#I was already running on damn near nothing because I have no appetites and eating sucks

[bleetusmcyeetus]

Tw vomiting

love it when my stomach goes “hey I think I’m gonna. empty myself. while you’re in bed. in the middle of the night. yea on ur favorite stuffie too.”

[bighungrywolf]

Mason, Jackson and Taylor were sitting on the dock near a beach as they enjoyed the sun and the pleasurable, rhythmic movement of the water over their glistening bodies. All three were staring at the horizon, or more precisely at the shore of the beach.

"Guys, look at that group of beachgoers in front of us. I don't know if it's because I haven't had a decent meal for at least a week, but they look pretty appetizing, with those bodies baking in the sun, while the water gives them a salty touch. Just looking at them I can't help but salivate, especially looking at the one in the blue swimming trunks, which is just my type," Mason said without taking his eyes off those delicious treats, as he wiped the saliva that was dripping from the corner of his lip.

"Pfff, I thought I was the only one thinking about digging into one of those treats. Just before I grabbed one clueless guy that was wandering around the booth area, but now I'm hungry again, and just looking at that guy in the striped swimming trunks with that big ass, my stomach starts to growl" Jackson commented, and without taking his eyes off the guy in the striped swimming trunks, he started to slowly walk down the dock to get into the water.

"Damn, you guys are making it hard for me, my wrestling coach told me that I have to start watching my diet, because if I keep this up, I'm going to have to change weight classes, and he said I'd have to limit myself to eating one prey a week, and I've already devoured a nerd at my uni who wouldn't leave me his notes. Although, you could say that this would be my cheat meal, right? for skipping a day's diet nothing happens, and besides, the twink who wears a speedo wouldn't count as a whole meal with how skinny he is" argued Taylor looking at the swimmers like someone who looks at a chocolate cake knowing he shouldn't eat it. "Well, guys, here's how I see it, there's four bathers and three of us, so we can take one each and whoever finishes first can have the fourth for dessert. Besides, we can't leave witnesses, it's an unwritten law of the preds, we can't break it" said Mason with a wicked grin "I say we do a countdown and start running towards them, okay?"

"Ooooh, you're on. The hunt hasn't even started yet and I can already feel the adrenaline of the moment enveloping my whole body, those poor bathers don't know what's coming at them" said Jackson with a malicious smirk, as he began to get into position to run towards the bathers at any moment.

And the hunt began in 3…2…1…. Go! The prey might try to flee, but no one escapes the appetite of a hungry pack of preds.

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters 

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one! 

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub 

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too. 

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 12

[see all chapters]

Read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

---

The alarm was blaring.

Danny recognized the noise immediately. But his eyes were still slow to open, his arms were slow to turn off the offending sound, and his brain was slow to recognize that the white ceiling above him was just his bedroom ceiling.

His body was numb. Nothing felt real.

He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and unlocked it. The screen was too bright, but he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. What was a little eye strain to him, really?

There were text messages, but Danny ignored them. The government likely already read them first, so if they were important, Danny would probably have woken up back in his cell rather than his cozy bed.

Ghosts like Danny didn’t get to have comfort. He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

“You’re a feral beast.” Operative O’s deep voice rained down on him. “You need to be trained.”

Danny opened the Twitter app only to be faced with a crushing amount of notifications and his name on the top of the trending list.

He should have felt nervous. Anxiety should have gripped his stomach. But...it didn’t.

He felt nothing.

Numb.

He clicked on his name and scrolled through the tweets. As he suspected, that damn video of him at the PHP littered his screen.

Protests have begun to break out near the health clinic Phantom is attending. [image]

I don’t understand, why doesn’t he just fly into the building or something? Can he not fly?

Is phantom over?

It’s so gross how people feel the need to harass a teenager trying to recover from trauma.

imagine being a teen trying to get emergency mental help and then THAT walks into ur class 

What the fuck did the government do to him? 

He was numb.

Nobody knew what really happened in there, and Danny wanted so badly to keep it that way. And the worst part was, he thought that if he just forgot about it, tried to move past it, then it would all go away. And no one would ever know.

Except Vlad did find out. Somehow, Vlad had managed to get a hold of classified government files about Danny, and if what he had implied was true, then he had learned everything. 

And if Vlad knew, then…

No. He wasn’t going to think about it. 

Danny knew from the moment he’d stupidly revealed himself that his life was not his own anymore. He knew that he was going to be nothing but a government possession from that moment till the day he died.

He didn’t deserve to get upset over this.

He pulled up a blank tweet and started typing. His movements were robotic. Stilted. But one slip-up, just one reason for the public to get suspicious, and Danny knew that some seedy corner of the internet would pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper into Danny’s life than he was comfortable with.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Thank you everyone for the support. I’m back home with my family and am healing.

Before he could question what he was doing, his finger was already pressing send on the tweet. He watched as almost immediately, notifications popped up in his inbox. 

But he didn’t open his notifications, he didn’t look at the replies. Instead, he closed the app and shut his phone off.

He didn’t care anymore.

Maddie knocked on the door and asked him a question, and he responded with the right answer for her to leave. He got up and started his new morning routine of sitting in the shower for ten minutes, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast before leaving for six hours of mandatory therapy.

He stared out the window, watching the morning traffic pass by him. He couldn’t remember if he shampooed his hair or if he just sat under the scalding water. But it was fine. He was just a government-issued robot now. Whatever.

There were people lining the highway when Danny pulled into the PHP center. They were shouting different things, holding different signs, their cameras armed and ready as soon as the GAV came into view. The police were there, making sure no one escaped into the parking lot, and there were therapists waiting outside.

They didn’t know. They had no idea what Danny had gone through, why he was there.

And it didn’t matter. Not to them, not to Danny, not to the police or the news stations filming the scene or to the government or Vlad or anyone else. 

Danny wasn’t in charge of his life anymore. 

He was only here because the government had decided he could stay free. 

For now.

The therapists escorted him into the building. Danny felt hollow. Sick.

No, he was fine.

Maddie hugged him, told him to have a good day, that she’d be back to bring him to more therapy after, and Danny nodded. At least, he thought he remembered to nod. He might not have, though.

There was a window in the lobby. A white van was parked along the street.

The APC news van.

Jazz was right. Danny was just being paranoid about the white van outside of their house before. He was so stupid. 

Even if it wasn’t a news van, what would it matter? He didn’t control his life, what would he care if they finished him off in some back alley? What would it matter if they snuck him into their van and held him captive for the rest of his life in some damp containment cell?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Danny spaced out for the morning meeting. He couldn’t remember if he managed to read off his paper for the other teens. His voice wasn’t working today. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything was numb.

They had art therapy today, run by a tall, lanky man with sandy hair and a clean-shaven face. He told the group to paint what they were feeling today, to channel their emotions onto their blank sheets of paper.

But Danny felt nothing. He had nothing to give.

He must have stared at his paper for too long, because the therapist tried to talk to him, ask him if he was alright, if he was having trouble with the exercise.

Danny didn’t respond, instead choosing to pick up the green paint and squeeze some of it directly onto his paper, rules be damned. It was too dark, so he grabbed the white paint and smeared it into the green. The color still wasn’t right, but Danny didn’t know enough about art to make it right, so he just kept spreading green across his paper. A dash of yellow, then some white, more green.

Time was up. His paper was green. 

“Good job, Danny. What do you think?” the therapist asked.

Danny stared at the paper, studying the streaks of yellow within the brush strokes. “It’s not the right shade of ectoplasm.”

The day continued with more emotion-managing lessons and group activities but Danny didn’t care and nobody could understand that. He was done with this, he was tired, it didn’t matter.

It was lunchtime, and Danny had no appetite. It felt like he had just eaten breakfast. His stomach was still full, but he had a sandwich sitting in front of him that he needed to eat or else they would tell his parents.

Danny held the sandwich between his fingers. It looked like sandpaper.

He didn’t want to eat it.

The therapist was looking at him. She was probably talking to him too, asking him questions about his day. But Danny ignored her. After all, didn’t he need to eat this lunch? How could he possibly eat and talk at the same time?

The teens were talking around him, but Danny blocked them all out too.

They were noisy.

It was like they weren’t even there.

Danny wasn’t human. He didn’t care. 

But you do care. 

He didn’t.

He was numb. 

Eat up like a good little dog. 

I’m not a dog.

Something inside him snapped, and he yanked on his cold core, channeling all his energy to his fingertips. His fingers tingled out of the tangible field, and the sandwich fell to the table.

“Whoa!” The blonde girl jumped, her eyes trained on Danny’s transparent skin.

“Danny?” 

There was an audience. Danny had forgotten about them. His core faltered, and the power faded from his fingertips. 

He should have felt embarrassed by this emotional display. He should have felt horrified that he’d allowed himself to act so inhuman and disgusting in front of these innocent bystanders.

But he was still numb.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was bored.”

“That was sick!” the brunette boy chimed in. “You can do that on command?”

“Usually.” Danny’s gaze flickered over to the therapist, who was giving him a strange look. He turned his attention back to the fallen sandwich. 

Maybe he would get kicked out of the program for this. For being too dangerous. That would probably be for the better. Then he could go free into the world. No more schedule, no more therapy, no more dissecting his emotions or talking about his trauma. 

Who cared about his trauma, anyway? Certainly not him.

“So you still have your ghost powers, then?” the blonde girl asked. “People were saying online that you lost them. The government took them or whatever.”

Danny brought his hand up to his face, willing his fingers to fade to invisibility. “They’re locked. But...I...they’re there. I’ll get them back.”

He would get them back. He needed them. 

Especially now.

Which was how he found himself sitting quietly outside his mother’s door. Waiting. He should have knocked probably, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He didn’t know why, he knew he should just go back to his room, go to sleep, stop bothering his parents about this, but he needed his core back.

His mom would understand. She was a ghost biology expert, right? She would get why he needed his core back now.

He raised his fist to knock, but he must have already knocked before because the door opened, revealing his mother dressed in teal pajamas on the other side. 

“Danny?” She frowned, her brows pulling cautiously above her eyes. “What are you doing up, sweetie? Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” His voice was scratchy. He broke eye contact, staring down at his lap. “My—my core.”

“Something wrong?”

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I need it back.”

“Sweetheart,” she said in a patient tone. “We talked about this.”

“No. you talked.”

She sighed. “Danny, it’s nearly eleven. Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No. No. I need it.”

“I told you, hun, your core and body need time to heal properly first before we make any drastic changes to your physiology. Just give it a few more weeks, alright?”

“Weeks?” Danny’s voice rose in alarm. 

“I promise it’ll be all worth it.”

Static rang in his ears, and a steel claw clutched at his stomach.

His mom didn’t understand. Why would she? She was human. Humans would never get it. She didn’t understand. 

“No, I can’t…”

“Danny, you need to trust me. Your body needs to rest.”

“You don’t understand.”

She regarded him for a moment before opening her door fully. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, then. You can tell me why this is so important to you.”

Danny peered inside the door, at the surprisingly average-looking bedroom before him. He could go in, tell his mother just how wrong he felt cut off from his core, how he was being blackmailed by Vlad, how there was a distinct record of every detail of what the Guys in White had done to him, how he had never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable in his life.

But he wouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could put it all into words. He was a ghost, she was a human. He couldn’t explain this to her.

Skulker and Vlad may have forced his revelation, but they gave him more secrets than he could ever have dreamt of handling.

Danny turned away. “It’s fine. Good night.”

“Hun…”

“Night, Mom.”

There was a tense silence before Maddie finally relented. “I love you, Danny.”

“You too,” he said reflexively. The words tasted sour on his tongue.

She didn’t understand. If she truly loved him, she would give him his core back right now, but she didn’t.

No, he was just being paranoid. This was just his Obsession talking. He didn’t need his core, he was just as much human as he was ghost. So what if he had to be a little more human for the next few weeks? Isn’t that what he’d always wanted?

To just be a regular human?

Maybe that was what his mother wanted. Maybe that was why she was postponing removing the chip. Maybe she was too afraid to see her son as a monster. A ghost. 

But that was crazy. She loved him.

She was telling the truth. 

His parents accepted him.

---

“You seem quiet today.”

Danny leaned back against the sofa, his arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde figure sitting before him. The stress ball sat untouched on the table next to him.

He didn’t feel like doing therapy today. He didn’t want to talk. 

His mom was human, his therapist was human. No one was going to get it.

“What’s on your mind, Danny?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He was fine. There was nothing to talk about. Even if there were things to talk about—and there weren’t, this was all just his Obsession going haywire—it wouldn’t matter anyway because he was defenseless and the government was going to kidnap him again. It was only a matter of time.

“You finished your first week with the PHP group today, right? How has that been going?”

“Fine.”

“Can you tell me about some of the activities you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat there for a moment, as if giving him time to elaborate. But Danny wasn’t going to elaborate. He didn’t feel like talking today. 

He looked out the window. The leaves had changed color, the ripe greens fading to yellows, oranges, and reds. In another few weeks, the ground would be littered with fallen leaves.

Summer had barely just begun when he was dragged from his house, drugged, and locked away. And yet, even though his entire world had come to a halt, time still moved on.

The clatter of the therapist’s clipboard falling on a side table jolted Danny out of his musing. He flinched, his eyes snapping over to see the therapist rising from her chair. 

She stretched her arms behind her back and walked over to the closet. “You know what? It’s been a long day. Wanna play a game?”

“Um...are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” She grabbed a box out of the closet and placed it down in the center of the room.

Danny peered at it in confusion. “Jenga? Of—of all the games out there, you’re really gonna make me...make me get on the floor for Jenga?” 

“Oh, come on, it’s fun.”

“You must throw some wild parties,” he remarked, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he slid off the couch and slowly scooched himself towards the middle of the room. As long as he didn’t have to explain why he was two seconds away from ripping his own core out of his chest, he would go along with whatever game she threw at him.

The therapist carefully tipped the box upside down, sliding the lid up to reveal a tower of multi-colored wooden tiles jigsawed together.

“So here’s our marvelous tower,” she said. “You can reach that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“So normal Jenga rules. We switch off trying to remove a piece without causing the tower to collapse. Except, for this game, after you remove a piece, you’re going to pick a card from this stack—” She pointed to a deck of large cards set up next to the Jenga tower. “—and then answer the question on the card that’s the same color. So if I take a purple tile out, I’ll answer the purple question on the card. Got it?”

Danny glanced between the cards and his therapist’s eager face. He was fairly certain Jenga never involved a set of cards before.

Maybe he’d forgotten the rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time his brain had betrayed him. “Am I being quizzed?”

“Don’t worry.” She pushed up the sleeves of her blue cardigan. “They’re just basic therapy questions. Nothing too bad.”

No. This was a trick, wasn’t it? To get him to talk?

He wasn’t going to fall for it. “I thought we weren’t—weren’t doing that...today.” 

“The questions aren’t too deep. Honestly, I mostly just use this game as an icebreaker for new clients. But Jenga’s pretty fun all the same.”

He must have still looked too suspicious, because she threw him an easy smile and went, “Here, I’ll go first.” She carefully nudged a green tile out of the stack and drew a card. “Okay, so the green question on here says, ‘Describe yourself in three words.’ Well, I’d say I’m kind, I think I’m rather nerdy, and I’m a bit of a cat lady.”

That...wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would be an easy game. 

He doubted any of the questions asked him about his core. Maybe he could loosen up a bit, go along with this icebreaker game, if only for an hour before sinking back into his internal panic. 

“Cat lady?” he tried.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised that’s never come up! I have two at home.”

Right, his therapist had a life outside of therapy. Outside of his problems.

But it wasn’t like he knew her name. At this point, it was just too embarrassing to ask. Maybe she had told him that she had cats, and he just couldn’t remember. Maybe he would forget it again tomorrow.

Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t care about things he didn’t remember. “Uh…” Danny pushed a purple tile out of the tower. “So I just pick up a—um, a card?”

“Yup, and read the purple question.”

Danny looked down at his card and rolled his eyes. “Oh, figures. ‘If you had superpowers, what would they be?’ Well, I’m dead. Does being dead count?”

She laughed, her voice light and airy. “Of all the questions, huh? Okay, let’s modify this a bit. If you could only keep one of your powers, which would you take?”

“Probably intangibility,” Danny said, his lack of hesitation surprising him.

“Oh? Why?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Where the chip was. “It’s the most useful, isn’t it? I can just...you know...I have no physical stuff in my way. I can just phase through any—anything I need. Or—no. Almost anything.”

Not shields. Those could still trap him.

Thankfully, she didn’t try to pry further, just offering him a kind nod and a “that makes sense” before pushing out another Jenga tile. “Blue! Alright, my question is, ‘What is your favorite feature about yourself?’ Hmm...that’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. When I was a teen, I used to straighten my hair, but then when I got to college, I stopped doing that and just let it be. Now I quite like my curly hair. Okay, your turn!”

“Okay.” Danny leaned over and pushed a red tile out of the tower. “Okay...my quest—question is…‘What is your biggest hope for your future?’ Oh...”

He did want to be an astronaut. But that was before, when he was still human. And then he was caught between thousands of volts of ecto-electricity and that future vanished right before his eyes.

What did he want to do with his life? What did he hope would happen?

He wanted his core back. He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable for much longer. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, he needed to—

Breathe. And answer the question.

What did he hope for his future?

“I don’t know. My future’s kinda...ruined, isn’t it?”

“Try to think on a smaller scale.”

“I…” Danny ran a hand through his hair. He wanted his core back, he wanted to be Phantom, he wanted to protect Amity Park. But he couldn’t say that. It made him sound too ghostly. Too inhuman.

Humans didn’t have these kinds of otherworldly desires. She would think he was a freak if he told her. She wouldn’t know how to react.

“I want to finish PT.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Your turn.”

Humming, she nudged a tile out of the Jenga tower and flipped over a card. “Okay, my question is, ‘What is something you were worried about when you were younger?’ Let me think…oh, here’s one. When I was young, my older sister moved out to live with her boyfriend. It was really scary because I had never lived without her, but we kept in touch and everything turned out okay.”

“I haven’t either. Lived away from Jazz I mean. Like—like for real. But she’s going to college next—next semester. I think she, uh...deferred a semester.”

“And you know, it’s common to feel worried about a sibling moving out. Periods of transition in life can be the most stressful for us, but it’s important to recognize that things will be okay.”

Danny looked down at the carpet. “I guess.”

Some days it felt like Jazz was the only one truly on his side. He was a lab rat, too well known and too hated to ever have a future, forever condemned to a vicious cycle of evading people like the Guys in White and Vlad for the rest of his life. Jazz was leaving him in a few months, his friends would follow in a few years, and in the end, Danny would be alone.

But he was fine with that. He’d accepted it. It was just his life now, there was nothing to say about it.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Go right ahead.”

Danny removed another tile. “‘How do you think others view you and why?’” He paused, throwing the therapist a bitter look. “This is rigged.”

“Not rigged, that’s just a very lucky pick.”

“Lucky to who?” Danny groaned. 

What was with the universe finding new ways to torment him?

“Humor me,” the therapist said patiently.

Danny glared at his card, tapping his fingers against the edge. It wasn’t like the public opinion of him was exactly a secret, but it still hurt. Constantly. Like some scab he kept telling himself to ignore, but ignoring it was impossible because the public would never leave him alone.

“Not good,” Danny muttered. “People hate me.”

“Being in the public eye is very stressful for anyone, but to be unique in your way adds on an entirely different layer. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand, and that makes them forget that at the end of the day, you’re still a person.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s eyes were trained on the colorful tower before him, which was starting to blur as the prickling behind his eyes increased. He ducked his head and blinked, hoping to save face before it was too late. 

“That doesn’t mean everyone feels this way, though. But sometimes it can feel that way to you because the ones who are the most afraid, the most hateful, are the loudest voices in the crowd. But remember, Danny, you won that court case for a reason. You have more people on your side than you think.”

“I won it for now, you mean. I don’t...I don’t think…” His voice failed, and he pressed his fingernails into his palms. He took a few shaky breaths. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Why don’t we talk about the case for a minute?”

Tucker’s words echoed in his head, how it was televised. How millions of people all around the globe probably tuned in for it, or watched streams online, each person with their own opinion of him.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now. 

“No,” he said. “Can we—can we just continue the game?”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” She pushed a block out of the tower. “So...alright, my question is, ‘What memory do you treasure the most?’ To that, I think fishing with my dad as a child. He was a big support for me when I was growing up, and I really valued our times fishing together as important bonding moments for us.”

Danny nodded politely, trying his best to not appear like he was counting down the seconds until therapy was over.

He could feel his emotions building inside him, threatening to topple the carefully constructed dam guarding his secrets. This was such a simple game, these were such simple questions, so why did he feel like he was failing?

He pushed out a Jenga tile—a red tile—from the tower and grabbed a card, scanning the questions until he found the red one.

What are you afraid of?

The words echoed back to him, and he pushed the card away. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to read those words or hear her voice because saying the question would mean he would have to talk and he only agreed to this stupid game to get out of talking.

There was so much he was afraid of that he had no right to be afraid of. Because he deserved this. Getting revealed was his fault, he was being reckless. He deserved all of it.

The experiments with the Guys in White. The pain, the way his skin was torn apart. How they threw him in a vat of ectoplasm the next day to heal, and how the ectoplasm entering his lungs made him feel like he was drowning because even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe, he still used those organs reflexively as Phantom. But he was in too much pain and his brain was too hazy to fight back. He could only sink into the darkness.

The red bag. The way it tasted, smelled, how it haunted him every day and how he revisited those moments every night in his dreams. How he would wake up each day and the drawer on his nightstand would be shimmering in the morning sun, as if tempting him to open it up, grab the bottle inside, let it help just for one day. It can take the edge off, he can be functional. Who cares if he’s cheating? It’s just for a day...

The public. The people. Their judgments, their words. How he was, on a molecular level, so vastly different from them. How he could never be the same. He would never have a normal life, he could never have a normal job, a normal family, normal friendships, ever again. There would always be something there, something alien between them.

Even between him and his best friends. There was just something... different ever since the portal accident. It had brought them closer together, sure, but in other ways it had also driven an invisible wedge between them. Because Danny would always have his powers, he would always be a half ghost, and there would always be things now that Sam and Tucker would never understand. 

How much would change now? Now that he was in the public eye, now that he’d gone through government torture? Now that his brain didn’t work the same?

And his core. His humanity. Why were his parents so apprehensive about it?

What are you afraid of?

Why wouldn’t his parents let him down into the lab? What were they hiding? They said his core was damaged, but it had been months since he was ripped open. His surgical damage had healed, his broken bones were back to normal, and even though his nerve endings in his chest and spine were still fried, they had been slowly mending themselves too.

Ectoplasm healed faster than human physiology. His core should have been fine by now.

What was the truth?

“They accept me,” Danny said automatically.

“Who does?”

Who accepted him?

Sam and Tucker did. 

His family…

Did they?

“I don’t know.”

“You have people in your corner, Danny. Your parents, your sister, your close friends. They all care about you. We’re all here for you, even if those loud voices in the public tell you otherwise.”

But if they cared...

“Then why won’t they let me have my core back?”

“Your core?”

“My powers. My ghostliness. Ectoplasm.” Danny let his eyes flair to emphasize his point.

If his therapist was scared of his otherworldly display, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued to look at him with her neutral expression, free of the judgment he’d come to expect from people since the accident.

And for some reason he couldn’t explain, that irritated him. 

“You mean the inhibitor chip?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me it was because my core...it was damaged but—but it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t...”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Of course he had. They kept repeating that his core was damaged. And they were probably right—for a time, at the very least. But that was months ago. 

Why hadn’t they scanned his core recently? Shouldn’t they be happy to learn it was healed? Shouldn’t that make them relieved?

What were they afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

“Do you think it would be helpful if I talked to your mother about this?” asked the therapist. “As a way to introduce the topic? She likely doesn’t know how much it’s bothering you.”

But that didn’t make sense either because Danny brought his core up every day. His parents knew how much it was bothering him. They had to have known, right?

So why were they doing this to him?

What were they hiding?

What are you afraid of?

---

Danny tried to remember a time where walking from his living room to his kitchen didn’t require a list of steps to be taken beforehand—a time where he could just get up and walk. But those memories were far too distant now.

And besides, this was his reality now. A reality where something as simple as walking made his head spin.

He shouldn’t dwell on the memories of how easy it used to be for him, he shouldn’t have snapped at Jazz for getting a cup of water for him because he knew the glasses were too high to reach from his wheelchair, he shouldn’t allow this irrational anger to overtake him every time the creeping anxiety of his future as Amity Park’s ghost hero came into question.

He just needed to focus on where he was now. Curled up on his couch avoiding his parents.

Everything felt wrong this morning when he woke up. For a moment, he had managed to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. That it was just his damaged nerve endings freaking out as normal. That once he took his medication, his problems would go away. 

But they didn’t. He still felt wrong. His chest still felt wrong.

It was manifesting in other ways too. He couldn’t walk as long today at PT. His physical therapist told him it was just a bad day and that his body was probably just tired from his busy week. But Danny knew that wasn’t right.

It had nothing to do with him being tired. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t anxious.

His core was the problem. His parents were the problem.

He tried asking about his core again on the way home from PT, using conversation techniques he went over with his therapist at the end of their last appointment, but Maddie just brushed him off. Said they would talk about it later.

But then later came and...she didn’t.

Danny tried asking his father, but he brushed Danny off too. Said Danny needed to focus on healing first.

But how was he supposed to heal when he was missing half of himself?

He felt wrong. So wrong. His body was too bound by gravity, it was too empty, it wasn’t listening to him.

He pressed his palms into his forehead. His hands were clammy. Shaking. Speckles of cold touched them—or was that his tears? Was he crying? 

No.

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way?

The government had him in a cage. They tormented him in ways he would rather die than live through again. But then it ended, and he was freed. He was allowed to go home, he could live his life as a legal person again. 

Except, he wasn’t free. Not at all. He was still trapped here in Amity, in his house, in his body. He had no control. Not over what he ate, when he slept, where he went, what he could say, what he could think. 

Half of him was still locked up tight with no hope of escape.

His water glass was empty. It would have been too embarrassing to ask someone to help him, but he was so thirsty and dehydrated and he just really needed this to work. He needed his body to respond to him. For one moment, please, just let his body respond.

Gripping the water cup in one hand and his walker in the other, he tried to stand, to walk over to the kitchen sink. But balancing everything was so difficult, his body was still fatigued from PT, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it but he just needed to try.

But he couldn’t do it in the end. The cup slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the carpet, thankfully saved from shattering on impact by some last shred of luck the universe decided to pity him with.

And now Danny too was on the floor because he couldn’t bend down to pick the cup back up like a normal person, and he didn’t want to call for help, and he couldn’t use any of his powers, and he felt so trapped. So helpless. So vulnerable.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was too stubborn and he was too useless.

A tear splattered against his hand, and he gripped the floor, his body trembling.

“Stop crying. Stop it.” he hissed. 

He was weak. 

Plasmius, once nearly his equal, had so severely overpowered him the other night. It was embarrassing. On the hierarchy of ghosts, where was he now? At the bottom with the blob ghosts?

But those ghosts could still fly. They could still turn intangible. Things that Danny couldn’t even do.

Hell, he was so weak that even the Box Ghost could defeat him now.

“Stop crying.”

He crawled back to the couch, the thought of getting water abandoned on the floor along with the last semblance of his dignity. Another tear fell from his cheek, and he desperately tried to ignore it, ignore his dry throat, ignore the pain in his chest, ignore his core and the Y-scar on his body and his new place in the ghost hierarchy as lower than dirt, ignore everything. Just focus on getting back to the couch. Shut down, go numb.

He was fine, he was okay.

He just needed to push through this. Just toughen up, quit whining. Life wasn’t fair. So what if he was now just a regular human? Hadn’t he been human for the first fourteen years of his life? He needed to suck it up.

Dragging himself back onto the safety of the couch cushions, he pulled one of Jazz’s throw blankets around his body and pressed a pillow into his face.

Never in his life had he been so tempted to scream, to curse, to finally let the last brick fall and allow hell to break loose. But his parents were in the basement, Jazz was upstairs, and he was fine. 

He was fine.

---

Huge thank you to tumblr user and writer @imekitty for proofreading this chapter. She’s amazing and I owe her my life.

And as always, thanks for reading!

---

<previous chapter / next chapter>

[komaedaslove]

do it for her, a sasha braus x reader

jenna's fics ¡ in which you keep your pronise

warnings: aot s4 ep 8 spoilers, death, loss, grieving/mourning death, denial (i think), it's overall quite sad

genre: some fluff, mainly just angst. however you want to view it

pairing: sasha braus x reader (platonic, but view it how you wish)

extra notes: there aren't any pronouns i use for the reader, however the reader does share a room with mikasa and sasha, but that's it mmm yes.

i listened to this (and some sad queen and freddie mercury songs) while writing this

it had taken a bit of begging from sasha, but she managed to get you out of bed at 1 in the morning. excitedly telling you about how she had stolen some meat and wanted you to go outside and eat it with her. you'd disagreed at first, your main concern being captain levi finding out, but the brunette was insistent. telling you she'll take all the blame if levi saw you two.

you knew that was absolute bullshit, but you were really hungry. so you agreed, sasha excitedly clapping and dragging the blanket off of you. she'd tried to get mikasa to go with too, but the girl remained stoic faced, shaking her head and going back to sleep.

that's how you ended up here, sitting on the grass with sasha, eating meat. at past one in the morning.

-

"sasha, do you ever think this will end?"

the brunette cocked her head to the side at your words, cheeks puffed up with meat and brows furrowed. “y/n! this isn’t the time to get all sad please, i really just wanna enjoy my meat,” she replied with a whine, mouth still full as she spoke. you sighed, rolling your eyes as you picked up another slice of meat. “can i be serious with you for once sash? and jesus close your mouth when you eat. you look like a fucking titan.” she narrowed her eyes at you , opening her mouth even wider as she chewed.  

“you’re really killing the mood y/n, pretty sure even mikasa wouldn’t have asked me stuff like this,” she said, and with that sasha swallowed down the remainder of food in her mouth and fell down onto her back with a groan. she turned her head to look up at you, a frown on her face as she clutched her stomach. “my stomach hurts y/n, you’ll have to carry me back inside!” 

“that’s what happens when you eat so damn fast and so much at once! you’ll have to crawl your way back. hopefully levi doesn’t wake up and see you crawling across the grass from the window or something.” you joked, giggling at the way her eyes widened at your statement. “he’ll skin me y/n! y/n please!” you ignored her pleas and stood up, dusting off your pants. before you could even start making your way back inside though, you felt sasha’s two arms wrap around your legs, pulling her body upwards and holding tightly onto you. “please y/n! do you want captain levi to skin me alive? do you? he’ll probably find some way to make me titan fodder! is that what you want?” she shook your legs and gripped onto you even tighter as she pleaded.

you weren’t actually gonna leave here there to crawl by herself, you knew this was gonna end up with you piggybacking her back inside, but it was a little funny to see her beg you to not let ‘levi skin her’.

“fine fine, just grab the plate and hop on my back,” in almost an instant, she unwrapped her arms from your legs and scrambled to grab the plate, waiting for you to get into position before she hopped onto your back, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around you.

“thank you y/n!” she adjusted herself better onto your back laying her head down with a content sigh. you started walking, holding tightly onto the brunette, she wasn’t heavy at all. you’d carried and flown around with odm gear so much by now that this was really easy for you. 

most of the rest of the walk back was fairly silent, and halfway there you could hear sasha’s breathing slow. she was already beginning to doze off. you shook her slightly on your back to keep her awake. you didn’t want her to fall asleep and drop the plate, then you’d have a real huge problem and levi would quite literally skin you both alive.

after a bit of walking you had finally made it to your shared room, sasha slipped off your back quietly, and as you closed the door behind you you breathed out a sigh of relief that no one had seen or heard you two. captain levi would’ve made you run laps right then and there if he did.

you set the plate down next to your bed, making a mental note to take it with you in the morning and wash it out before levi could question you. ‘’sasha don’t forget we have to-” you started, but immediately stopped when you saw that the brunette was already sleeping, her legs hanging off of the bed and face planted into the pillow. you giggled, one thing about sasha was she was that just as much as she loved to eat, she loved to sleep. you were sure that if she had the option she would probably sleep the entire day, only waking up to eat something before trotting off to bed again.

with a quick stretch of your arms you walked over to sasha’s bed, taking off her shoes and moving the sleeping girl’s legs onto the bed. she shifted slightly, mumbling something in her sleep as you pulled the blanket at the edge of the bed over her.

you turned around, just about ready to get into bed and sleep away what little time you still had to do so, but a soft tug and your sleeve stopped you.

you turned back around, humming in response. sasha’s eyes were still closed but now there was a lazy grin on her face, she tugged you forward, beckoning you to come closer. amused by the sleepy girls actions you obliged, leaning forward till you were close enough for her to whisper into your ear.

“one day y/n, i wanna have a picnic with you. a real one. outside these walls. with all those nice things we had when we visited historia, remember? promise me we’ll do that. you have to promise,” she sleepily slurred her words, but you could still perfectly understand what she was saying, and with a small giggle and a nod of your head, you smiled. you weren’t sure when this hell was ever gonna end, or if it was at all, but sasha’s words gave you the tiniest bit of hope. a rather small glimmer of light at the end of this tunnel, but it was still there. and for the first time in what felt like a really long time, you felt happy. like there was nothing else that you had to worry about, you could be truly happy with no other worries for just this moment.

you couldn’t actually remember how you had ever lived before all of this. was there a time when you actually didn’t have to worry about titans, or about whether or whether not you and your friends and comrades would live another day? probably, when you were really young maybe, but again you couldn’t remember.

but right now you got that feeling, that carefree happiness, you weren’t entirely sure how just a few words from sasha did, but you were thankful for it. and you knew you just had to keep this promise, as trivial as it was you wanted that picnic outside of these walls with sasha someday. and you were gonna have it.

“i promise,"

-

“sasha i know its not what you wanted. but its the best i could do,”

two plates were layed out on the ground, each filled with as much food as you could get your hands on. it wasn’t all of the nice things you’d had when you visited historia, but it was the best you could do.

it felt like decades ago when you made that promise, and thinking back on it now you realize how childish it was. were you so filled with hope back then that you actually made promises like this and wholeheartedly believed it would come true? you don’t actually remember, but you did wish you could still have that hope now today. you envied your younger self for it, for being able to have that carefree happiness you were absolutely sure you would never have again in whatever little time you still had left in your life. your light was gone now, and how naive you were for ever for a second believing you could hold on to that light forever. just like everything in this world-no, in this hell, it came to an end. and maybe if you accepted that fact a long time ago you wouldn’t be where you were now, doing what you were doing.

finding some way to cling onto that light-to cling onto her.

you’d told everyone else about your promise, it was a little embarressing to say the least, speaking about something so childish with tears running down your cheeks. you’d also told them the full story, including how she had stolen meat and you had snuck outside in the early hours of the morning to eat it-much to levi’s dismay.

but no one questioned you, not even a little bit. infact, conny had done something similar, he had the habit of filling a plate of food for her at dinner or in the mornings, setting the plate next to him. everyone knew not to sit there, not to question it, because on the inside we were all hoping she would come and sit there. wolfing down her food and complaining after about how hungry she was. you didn’t realize you would ever miss that as much as you did right now.

“armin gave me this seashell from outside the walls, i can’t really go outside the walls right now, there’s not really a way to take you with me, so hopefully this makes up for it. we can pretend like we’re sitting on the beach,” you held up the seashell, showing it off before you set it down on the ground near your plates. you were talking really loudly, but you didn’t actually notice, it was like a part of you wanted to make absolutely sure she could hear you.

“let’s eat!” 

you ate in silence, you weren’t hungry, not at all. your appetite was completely gone. she would probably be asking for your food right now, saying she was done with hers and that she was still really hungry. then you would look at her for a long time, staring into her pleading eyes with a stoic expression before you brought the food to your mouth and ate it, trying to maintain your serious expression as she groaned about how mean you were for that.

how you wished she was here.

once you were done eating you pushed your plate to the side, moving her untouched one as well. you sat up onto your knees, crawling over to the headstone and turning around to put your back to it.

“now its like i’m giving you a piggyback ride, right sash?”

silently, tears rolled down your cheeks again, the salty liquid dropping onto the ground and dissapearing into the earth. you tugged your knees up to your chest, hugging them as you buried your head into your knees. you weren’t sure when, but you started sobbing, cries muffled by your legs as you gripped even tighter onto your legs. you just wanted to hold her, you just wanted her here,

your light was gone, whatever hope you still had in you left the second she did.

after a while you lifted your head up, tear stained face facing up towards the sky. you laughed. with whatever energy you had left in you to do so, you laughed and smiled as you looked up at the sky. up into the clouds. up into where sasha was. she would want you to smile, to laugh, you remembered that night again, where she told you not to say such sad things when she was trying to enjoy her meat. she would’ve said the same thing now. so you forced out that laugh, forced out that smile. for sasha.

“i kept my promise sasha,”

hopefully, she heard you.

[marmolady]

The Wreckage of What Was

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: Rourke Ending. An explosive encounter with the woman who was once her wife has left Taylor shattered.

Word Count: 3528

Chronology: Directly following on from 'There Was This Girl'. Read that one first!

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic

Curled up under the covers, her head tucked in against her chest, Taylor closed her eyes tighter, ignoring the knocking on her apartment’s door. Or, at least… she tried to. She wasn’t sure of the time. There hadn’t been much point in checking; she wasn’t going anywhere. It mattered little if she fell behind in her classes. Straight A’s wouldn’t free Varyyn and his people from Rourke’s enslavement. Nor would they allow Jake and Mike to stop running, to come home. Nor cure Quinn’s Rotterdam’s. And they sure as hell wouldn’t make Estela know her again. Love her again. Tears prickled Taylor’s eyes. The skin around her eyes and nose was red raw from crying, from being wiped and dabbed by what felt like enough tissues that she could call herself personally responsible for the felling of a small forest. Still, the tears came, because the all-encompassing sadness, the helplessness, just didn’t stop.

“Taylor! You can’t just hide in there forever!”

She didn’t want to see Diego. It made no sense to her that he didn’t loathe her. She’d been the one with the deciding vote, and it was she alone who could’ve fixed everything… if only she’d had the guts. Taylor saw herself as a coward; the one responsible for every wrong Rourke inflicted on this world. Diego had trusted her, and Taylor had chosen the path that tore him from Varyyn’s arms, and torn everything else from Varyyn in the process.

“TAYLOR!”

Then Zahra’s voice cut across him. “For fuck’s sake….” There was a creak as the door swung open, then approaching footsteps.

“Tay?” Diego called, right at her door this time.

Taylor’s groan of frustration turned into a roar, and she sat up in bed.

“You’re not great at taking hints are you?” She knew she was being unnecessarily mean, and she hated herself for it. But the fact was, she’d done enough to make him miserable without him being sucked into the black hole of despair she seemed to have become.

Diego pushed the door open. If he was hurt, it didn’t show on his face. His eyes were just sympathetic… kind. It was kindness she didn’t deserve.

“I think you know you can’t shake me that easily,” he said airily. “Have you eaten today? It’s after three.”

Avoiding eye contact, knowing how much of a mess she looked, Taylor sighed. “I haven’t been hungry,” she said, her tone flat. It was true. She’d barely touched a thing since everything with Estela had blown up spectacularly in her face. To get up and eat something, she’d have to find the energy to move, and for the most part, that had been eluding her.

Diego disappeared back out the door, and some rummaging-sounds later, returned with a plate of crackers and dip. He approached the bed and sat down on the edge… close enough to make it known he was there for Taylor, but not close enough to be pushy.

“Look, I know you don’t have any appetite right now,” he said, “but something small is better than nothing. Think you could do that… for me?”

Taylor huffed a little, and tidied up her hair as well as she could manage without going so far as rummaging for a brush. She looked her friend in the face, properly, for the first time since he showed up. He looked worried. Really worried.

It had been four days. Four days since Taylor had taken a great leap of faith, and fallen. For a little while there, it had actually been easy; having Estela near had felt natural, even if few words were ever exchanged. But Taylor had misjudged things, badly. There had been some… charged looks between the two of them…. moments where time slowed, and suddenly it was her old Estela seeing her, maybe even wanting her. It had been wonderful. If only it weren’t for that creeping knowledge that she was taking advantage; Taylor knew Estela, Estela didn’t know Taylor. The dishonesty of it all had troubled Taylor to the point of spurring her to action… and spilling all.

Obviously, Taylor had sounded deranged. She’d known that before she so much as opened her mouth to start, but her crazy story was the only truth she had to offer. Going on about Rourke changing history-- what the hell kind of reasonable person wouldn’t think Taylor had lost her mind? And Estela… well, Taylor already knew that Estela had no patience for anyone trying to screw with her. She hadn’t been ready, though, for the anger. She’d seen that anger in Estela’s eyes before, but never dreamed it could ever be directed her way. And, oh, it had hurt.

“You’re too good to me,” Taylor mumbled. Reluctantly, she reached out and took a cracker. For Diego.

“What best friends are for, right?”

Taylor put on a valiant, if ultimately sad, attempt at a smile. However much she might have felt it for the best, she simply didn’t have the heart-- nor the energy-- to push Diego away. “Well, what’s your plan?” she asked. “Sit me in front of Shrek until I believe in true love again?”

And so, they huddled under a duvet and watched Shrek. The dragon set Taylor off crying again, but it was generally a good distraction while they ate. Once the crackers were polished off, Diego nipped out to grab some ice cream-- the fancy kind usually reserved for Very Bad Days. It was a rare and potent breed of sadness that couldn’t at least be tempered by ice cream, but it seemed that Taylor was afflicted with just that. Even if the pain in her heart couldn’t be lessened, though, she was grateful for Diego… far more than she could say.

Her bowl empty and the movie done with, there was little for Taylor to do but to wallow in her own thoughts. The very same that had been so intent on dragging her under. At least now, though… at least she wasn’t alone with them.

“I’m… so lost,” she croaked after a long while, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“Yeah?” Diego rubbed her arm comfortingly. “I… I get that.”

Taylor looked down into her empty bowl, contemplating everything. No matter how many times she turned things over in her head, she always came out confused. The path forward-- if there even was one from this hell she’d unleashed-- was tangled with thorns and riddled with dead-ends and traps. She’d been stumbling through, fearful of causing even more damage while knowing that everything she cared for rested on her success.

“I feel like… maybe I was wrong? Maybe it wasn’t right to just blurt everything out? I mean, you remembered, didn’t you? Maybe if I’d just left it… she might have just… worked it out herself. It’s not like there’s a fucking hope of her remembering me if I’ve scared her off….”

“Hey. Our Estela doesn’t scare easily. And you know what? Maybe the fact that you sounded absolutely batshit crazy will help in the long run. You’ll stick in her mind.”

“And what if… what if what I’m trying to is actually… is actually just going to make me the person who hurts her most?”

Diego’s brow furrowed. “You’re losing me.”

“What if she’s better off? I know she felt so betrayed when I took this path but….” Taylor roughly ran her hands through her hair. This had been damn near driving her crazy. “She’s got her mom back, Diego…. It’s like her mom was never murdered. If I wasn’t so selfish, if I just let her be… she’d never have to feel that pain.”

For a few moments, Diego pondered; a couple of times he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if not quite sure of what to say. At last, though, he just came out with it. “I think… I think you’re just grasping onto another excuse to beat up on yourself. I’m sorry, Taylor.”

“Wha--”

“You heard,” Diego said firmly, obviously finding his resolve to really help as he looked Taylor right in the face. Even if it was hard for her to hear. “And honestly? I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking about. When we were up on that rooftop, did Rourke even try and win Estela over using her mom as a bribe? No-- because he knew that would only make her fight him harder.”

Taylor exhaled through her hand, now pressed against her face as she wrestled with her thoughts. Diego… had a point. “She’d have broken his freaking nose, then and there.”

“Exactly!”

“So, what does that mean? That I’ve failed and there’s no consolation?”

“I think,” Diego said, calm and steady, “that we’re in for a long haul. But I also think that there’s a part of Estela that really, really misses you, even if she doesn’t know what it is. Like… even before I remembered, I could feel something was missing. And I was drawn to you. Even if Estela thinks you’re crazy, you’re still that person she fell in love with a couple-thousand times over.”

“You’re betting an awful lot on Estela falling for the person who, by all appearances, is nothing but a delusional stalker.”

Shadows of sorrow crossed Diego’s eyes. “Well, I’ve got to. There’s… not really much else.”

Taylor snuggled close, squeezing her friend… the only one she had left, and one she could not be convinced she deserved. But she was all he had, too.

“I know… I know this is all making you crazy. And I know a big part of you hates yourself for making the call you did. But hiding in here and beating yourself up isn’t gonna do anything but make you feel worse. However much you think you deserve to feel that bad, I can’t let you give up. I can’t.”

Her friend’s words made Taylor wince. There really was no option; she simply had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep putting on a smile to should-have-been friends while her heart was quietly breaking.

Diego took a long exhale. “So. You can have today, and you can have tomorrow. But then, you pull yourself together. There are too many people counting on you for you to go to pieces now.”

Taylor nodded, and tears dripped down onto her lap as Diego held her. Being there for him meant letting go of her own self-loathing, however hard it was. If he still believed she had it in her to fix this fucking mess, she’d fight to her dying breath. The floodgates had opened, and she cried and cried, feeling everything she knew would soon have to be quashed back down. His own eyes spilling, Diego kept on rubbing her arm, supporting her always.

Messily wiping her face on her sleeve-- it was already crusty with tears and snot anyway-- Taylor gathered herself. Deep breaths. In… and out.

“I really miss her,” she said after a long while, soft as a whisper. To say it loud just made it bigger, and it was already tearing her apart. But if she was moving forward, that pain had to be expelled… else it swallow her. “And it just… aches. When things got scary-- and to be honest, when were things not scary?-- she’d just… slip her hand into mine, and hold me. It’s been months-- I know it’s been months-- but I can’t keep myself from half-expecting her fingers to wrap around mine, and just like that… make everything better.”

Without a word, Diego took Taylor’s trembling hand in his own, his thumb stroking tenderly.

When he closed his eyes, Taylor knew he was imagining Varyyn holding his hand. And as she closed her own, Taylor let herself, for just a moment, be held by Estela.

On return to reality, Diego’s face was wet with tears. He offered Taylor a watery smile. They were in this together.

“Hey,” Taylor said shakily. “Will you… will you stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

________________________

True to her word, Taylor forced herself out of the apartment come the day after next. Hard as it was, if she didn’t keep up with her studies, she’d risk losing her place at Hartfeld, and any hope she might have of reconnecting with her loved ones. Winter had set in, and for most students, life consisted of hurrying between one heated lecture theatre and the next, or sheltering in the library, cafe, or student union building. It seemed every heater on campus was mobbed by a tight circle of students, and the queue at every coffee outlet busy. Taylor joined the masses, huddled up in the library with a long-awaited coffee and a heavy text book. It would be all too easy to let the gloomy weather negatively impact her already fragile emotional state, so the best thing she could think to do was surround herself with activity.

Her mind strayed to its usual fretting-- about Estela, about Diego and Varyyn, about--

Taylor yelped as hot coffee burned her mouth. She knew the library’s drinks always came out piping, and cursed herself for being so goddamn distracted. Cheeks flushing, she set down her cup.

“Are you okay?” asked a familiar, kind voice, hoarser than it should have been. Quinn had turned around from a bookshelf, concern upon her pale face. “They do go a bit over the top temperature-wise here. I’m guessing you’re used to the coffee shop?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Taylor replied ruefully. “But no, I should know to be careful by now. Sadly, I just felt something warm between my hands and all rational thought deserted me.”

Quinn laughed, which, to Taylor’s horror, brought on a fit of hacking coughs.

Oh, Quinn.

Around the campus, Quinn was easily the most elusive of the group; quite an achievement when Estela insisted on keeping herself as inconspicuous as possible. It was a constant worry for Taylor and Diego, knowing what they did about their friend’s illness. Logic told them that if circumstances around her had changed little with Rourke’s interference, Quinn might be expected to survive at least until the end of junior year, but all appearances made it clear she was in a very bad way. Weeks could go by without either of them catching a glimpse of Quinn around the place, and it was downright frightening.

“Hey-- sit down,” Taylor urged gently. “Don’t want us both to hurt ourselves over my lack of judgement.”

Quinn sank into the chair beside Taylor and struggled to catch her breath. A fearful Taylor hopped up and started rubbing her back.

“Do you want to grab you a glass of water?”

“I’m okay-- kff-- I just need a-- kff-- a moment….”

Frustration was clear upon Quinn’s face. Not wanting to be over-bearing, Taylor eased back… but those coughs sounded so painful….

Slowly, Quinn got control over her coughing. “Better…,” she said, eyes closed. She opened them slowly, and offered her companion a shaky smile. “It’s Taylor, isn’t?”

“Yup, that’s me. Quinn, yeah? I haven’t seen you around in a while?”

Quinn’s smile became stronger, as though she was genuinely delighted to be remembered by what was a passing friendly face. “The colder weather hasn’t been doing my health much good. The school’s understanding; what can be done from home I don’t have to come in for. But sometimes I just want to brave it and actually be a part of everything.”

“Yeah?” Taylor said, “that’s understandable. All this dreary weather… it has its way of making loneliness hit even harder.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Look, if you ever want a study buddy…? You could even stop by my place-- not to be presumptuous or anything, but it might be more comfortable than having to fight for a spot by the heater here.”

A shadow passed over Quinn’s face, her smile growing sad. “That’s really kind of you to offer, and-- honestly?-- I’d love to take you up on it. I just… well, things are quite difficult for me right now.”

“It’s okay-- no pressure. I just want you to know that you’ve got a friend on campus if you need one.” Sitting back down beside Quinn, Taylor picked up her mug and gingerly took a sip. Much better. “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Oh, just the one,” Quinn said more brightly, clearly relieved at the change of subject. “I’m taking Visual Arts. I do a bit of painting-- not really seriously, more just for me. I was a little worried that study would take some of the fun out of it, but it’s turned out to be the bright spot in my schedule. If I can make it in person for anything, I always aim for Visual Arts.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” said Taylor, and she took another, braver, sip of coffee. It was all useful information-- apparently this would be the most likely time of week to have a surprise Quinn encounter. More importantly, it was reassuring to know that it was not, in fact, all doom and gloom. “I’ve got to head off for my Introductory Chemistry practical in about ten minutes. Painting sounds a lot more fun-- wanna trade?”

Quinn just laughed.

Yeah…. Thought not.

_____________________________

As a general rule, Taylor didn’t actually mind Chemistry that much. It wasn’t exactly her bag; the equations had a habit of drifting in one ear and out the other, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. What made it painful now, was Estela.

A few weeks ago, Taylor had been overjoyed to have been placed in a group with the woman who had once been her wife, but a lot had changed since then. Estela had furiously warned Taylor to stay away, and Taylor had done just that, both out of respect for the wishes of someone she loved, and out of plain fear that she might fuck it all up further. There was no crossing the quad to avoid this one, though.

It was as uncomfortable as Taylor had anticipated. Estela looked right past Taylor, directing all communication to their third group member, who seemed oblivious to the tension. Taylor wasn’t sure how-- the air was so fucking thick with it she could barely breathe. Her hands shook as she measured out materials, and it was by virtue of a lucky save that she didn’t drop a test tube of chemicals onto the floor.

Everything in Estela’s body language, in her expression, screamed that she’d rather be anywhere else-- anywhere at all-- than there working alongside Taylor. The feeling was mutual. Taylor watched the minutes pass by agonisingly slowly as they slogged through the experiment. If she had to speak, it was only the bare minimum to get the work done. Never, never had she felt more alone in Estela’s company. She’d experienced indifference before, indifference that had fueled her longing until it hurt like a physical wound. But now Estela regarded Taylor not as a person of little consequence, but as a threat, and that was far, far worse. Trying not to wither under that fierce gaze, Taylor soldiered on, until finally, the experiment was concluded, and she was free to pack up… and head home for a stiff drink.

As she turned the tap to rinse the last of her test tubes and beakers, the water gushed with a sudden force, spraying Taylor down her front.

“Crap!” she cried. It was near freezing outside, and to have a clothes sopping wet would make for a very uncomfortable walk back to the apartment. Well… it was just her luck.

Taylor pulled off her jacket, and bit back a sigh. As her problems went, a bit of cold and wet was pretty much nothing. Hell, if home, and Diego, and a pile of blankets was at the other end, she’d put up with far worse. Grumbling a little as she packed up her things, Taylor braced herself for a great rush to get between this warm shelter and the next. But as she stepped through the doorway--

“Wait!”

That voice made her turn. It always would.

“You’re going to catch your death. Tonta.” Estela rolled her eyes and shrugged off her hoodie. “Your shirt’s still wet. Here.” She thrust the hoodie into Taylor’s hands.

“You don’t have to--” Taylor stammered, utterly taken aback. Remember to breathe, you idiot!

“Taylor. Just put it on, will you? Unless you want to freeze.”

Getting over her surprise, Taylor took the hoodie. Discomfort was plain on Estela’s face, so she didn’t linger to make the exchange any more awkward. Just a smile of thanks… and they parted.

Taylor looked on, stunned and watched as Estela slung her bag over her shoulder and jogged into the shadows. A chill wind hit her, and she hastily pulled the hoodie over her head. It was warm, and the scent of Estela, heart-achingly familiar, lingered. A tear, just another in a long, long line, prickled Taylor’s eye as she breathed it in.

She brought the front of the hoodie to her face and closed her eyes against the scent and feel of home.

It wasn’t over yet.

[stevesnailbat]

routine | steve harrington

summary: Steve is stuck in the same, boring routine for months until someone finally helps him understand that change can be good.

warnings: some angst

word count: 2.2K

a/n: gif credit to the WONDERFUL @harringtown !!!! and i bounced a lot of the ideas for this fic around with @comedy-witch @jxnehxpper and @lovesong-remastered so credit to them for this inspo!!

Life was just one big routine for Steve. He’d wake up, do his hair after he brushes his teeth, put on his Family Video Uniform, make himself the mundane breakfast of eggs and bacon and buttered toast, then head to work. At work, there were the same routines of cleaning, taking people at the register, putting movies away. After getting off work, he’d run on the treadmill for forty-five minutes exactly, take a shower, make one of the three over-simplified dinners he always ate, then go to sleep.

Everything was the same all the time, and he needed it that way. Any bump in the road sent his heart rate spiraling, sent his mind into a frenzy of everything that could go wrong. The things that could go wrong were never anyone else’s fault—it was always his fault in his mind.

It was different now that he wasn’t in school. He couldn’t stay distracted with school and sports and homework anymore. It was a matter of battling with his own emotions and he’d found out quickly that routine was the only thing that he needed in his life.

He hated when Robin would ask him last minute to go out, to when she’d invite him to go somewhere after their shift. Those things weren’t part of his routine, so he couldn’t bare the thought of them.

Y/N coming into his life wasn’t any different than any of the other irregularities in his strict schedule. The feelings he caught so quickly terrified him so much that he felt the need to shove them back down his throat every time she was around. Steve’s walls were built high and she could barely reach to get through to him, but she still did somehow.

She became a regular at the video store, mainly out of curiosity of the familiar yet distant boy she saw at the counter the first time she came in. Of course, she knew of Steve; who in the town hadn’t? But, she didn’t know how much he’d changed since high school until she saw it with her own eyes. He was quiet, kept to himself, and was even friends with someone he never would’ve associated with a year before. His change piqued her interest and she wanted to know more.

“Do you always sit in the break room and do nothing for your whole lunch break?” Y/N questioned one day after Robin invited her back room, she had picked up on one of Steve’s many habits already.

“Dingus never eats, I’m not even kidding.” Robin said while stacking some returned movies onto a cart to put out. “I’ve never seen him bring a single morsel of food back into this room.”

“I eat after my shift every day, thank you.” Steve quips, shooting a glare in Robin’s direction. “I’m just never hungry enough to eat during this time, I guess.”

“For a full eight hour shift? You don’t feel hungry at all?” Y/N implored, Steve nodded in an unbelievably confident manner. “You’re lying, Harrington.”

“I’m not—“

“I’m packing you lunch from now on, Steve.” she said, the tone of her voice leaving no room for him to protest. “I promise you that it’ll help you!”

Steve doesn’t say no to the food, but damn, does he want to. Not because he’s not grateful for her, but because it messes everything up. He did the same thing every day in the break room—he listened to his walkman and looked through the return movies pile in the back room. But now, he had Y/N—along with Robin sometimes—pestering him about eating the food from the brown paper bag. It was completely out of his routine and he hated it.

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just a lunch, and that he could fit it into his routine. Truthfully, it warmed his heart that Y/N cared about him enough to visit him every day, let alone pack him a lunch with every visit. The first few times she brought him food, it was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a bag of chips and an apple. Nothing too exciting, but enough to satisfy his hunger and make the feeling of adoration he felt towards her blossom.

Steve became accustomed to her sitting in the break room with him, cracking jokes with him while he ate his sandwich. He slowly slips back to his habitual tendencies, and Y/N and the PB & Js become apart of them too. It seems to be something to look forward too and Steve enjoys the company. Sometimes there’s a pang of hurt in his chest when he catches her staring at him, but he pushes it away. Steve wanted something constant and this was it, he didn’t want to push it any further and he doesn’t expect her to push it any further.

Of course, Steve knew that Y/N didn’t just want to be his sack-lunch bearer forever, but he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted damn near everything in his life to be on autopilot, nothing left for his mind to overthink about. As much as he might’ve liked her, he forced himself to think of her as nothing but a friend. Getting into a relationship was out of the cards.

When the sandwich she brings changes, something in Steve switches.

“What’s on this?” he questions, lifting the top piece of bread with wide eyes.

“It’s just a turkey sandwich, Steve. There’s some cheese and mayo on it too, but that’s it.” she says casually, watching as he closely examines the sandwich.

That’s when Steve shuts down, for some reason. If the sandwich he gets every day isn’t even a constancy, then what is? She could almost literally see the walls come up around Steve again, the same ones that she’d worked so hard to tear down. Steve had lost his appetite, he felt so dramatic for it, but he couldn’t help it. He forced the first bite down his throat, holding back any bitter words that he might have had about the change.

“Do you not like it?” she asked after a minute of deafening silence, filled with watching him pick at the sandwich. “You don’t have to eat it.”

“I was just—just expecting the usual, you know.” he sighed, feeling defeated by himself.

“I thought you’d wanna change it up? I didn’t think it’d be fun eating the same thing every day.” she suggested, chewing on her lip as she watched him battle with himself.

Steve only nodded and gave her a weak smile, a feeling of uncertainty and dread filling his stomach. Neither of them spoke after that, tension and silence filling the room instead of the typical giggles and teasing. She didn’t really understand why he was so upset, but she knew she could never fully comprehend it. It was obvious that Steve had seen some shit, and that she might not ever get through to him to figure out what bothered him so deeply about the stupid turkey sandwich.

The next day, she brings him the usual lunch, in the typical, boring brown paper bag. Steve’s eyes light up when he sees the peanut butter and jelly, and something in Y/N’s chest aches at the thought of something so simple and so routine bringing him so much joy. He was talkative again, making jokes about some of the new movies they got, making her laugh like the day before hadn’t happened. It didn’t sit right with her.

She couldn’t even bring herself to drive home after Steve’s lunch break. Curiosity was keeping her from putting her car into drive, she wanted to find out why he was such a creature of habit. And more importantly, why he kept pushing her away. She waited three hours for Steve to come out of the Family Video, eyes trained to the door the whole time. He looked bored when he walked out of the store, like he was dreading going home for the night.

“Harrington!” she called after rolling down her window, motioning for him to come to her car.

“Hey, have you been here this whole time?” Steve asked, brows nearly knitted together as a confused frown grew on his lips.

“That’s not important, will you get in the car? I wanna talk to you.” she said, throwing her chin in the direction of the passenger seat.

“I’m—I can’t, I have somewhere to be—“

“Do those plans include going home for the night? Because you looked like you were not looking forward to it five seconds ago.” she said matter-of-factly, giving him an incredulous glare as he looked at her in silence. “That's what I thought. Get in, Steve. It won’t take long.”

Hesitantly, Steve rounded the car to get in on the passenger side.

“I can’t stop thinking about yesterday.” she blurted out as he closed the door, making his eyes go wide.

“What about it?” he asked cautiously.

“About how you went radio silent for the hour over a stupid turkey sandwich. Just because I switched something up on you.” she said bluntly.

“I—I don’t know.” he stammered, refusing to look at her as he felt her eyes fixed on him.

“But you do know! You just aren’t saying it! You can’t just have everything in your life be the same all the time.” she huffed.

“What if I want to? I don’t like change! I don’t want things to change!” Steve exclaimed.

“Things always change, Steve! You can’t just live the same, boring life every day and be okay with it. Live a little!” she retorted, watching as he rolled his eyes and let out a small, bitter laugh.

“I don’t want change, Y/N! I’m happy with where I am right now, nothing at all needs to change. I’m okay with living this same, boring life every day!” he mocked, a hand running through his hair nervously. “I do the same thing every day, and you bring me the same lunch every day. I don't care about variety, I care about not giving things the opportunity to fuck up again! I—I like the way everything is right now and I don’t want to get my hopes up for anything more, because sometimes something more never comes.”

In that moment, she could tell he wasn’t talking about the turkey sandwich anymore. Steve was talking about her, and what they had going for them. His biggest fear was pushing forward and getting nothing in return, or feeling like he wasn’t loved again.

“You know why I take the longest shifts I can here?” he asked, breaking the saddening silence. “So I can avoid being in my big, lonely house. I don’t like being alone, but I know I am. It’s become my routine for me to take long ass shifts so I can feel okay, so I can feel again, just for a little bit every day. And—And as much as I hated letting you in at first, I like the little routine that we’ve created, too. I like talking with you and making stupid jokes about the new releases. I—I don’t want what we have to change. I don’t want to lose it because of one small change or because I’m being selfish.”

“You’re being selfish right now, Steve.” she said softly, and he finally looked over at her with his wide, pain-filled eyes. “You aren’t letting yourself understand what other people might want. And I know for a fact that you don’t want me to just be the girl who brings you lunch every day, is that right?”

Steve nodded slowly, taking the moment to let his thoughts catch up in his whizzing mind.

“I can see it in your eyes when we sit in the break room. When you catch me staring sometimes, you freeze up. You get a little blush on your cheeks or you frown to yourself for a moment, because you don’t want to fuck it up.” she continued, reaching for his hand across the console. “But you’re digging both of us into a deeper hole by not letting me in and not changing your routine. I just want to help you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes trained on where their hands met. Her touch was gentle and soothing, her thumb rubbed circles along the back of his hand to calm him down as she spoke. It was a bit overwhelming for him at first, but he was growing to accept it quickly. Before he could fully grasp what was going on, her other hand reached to cup his cheek. Their eyes met once more and she could almost see the shift from sadness to adoration in his doe-eyes. Steve couldn’t help but lean into her hand, catching her lips in a soft, quick kiss. It was a bittersweet moment for Steve, but he told himself that change was good, and that love was good, too.

“Will you finally let me help you?” she asked after pulling away from the short kiss, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“Yeah, I’ll let you.” Steve said with a weak smile, a feeling of warmth filling his chest as he spoke.

tags: @sourapplebaby @harringtown @jxnehxpper @charmed-asylum @heart-eye-harrington @daddystevee @queenofthehairharrington @a-magey @lemonypink @igotmadskills @ilovebucketbarnes @simplesammyx @willowrose99

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Our Nightly Confidant 6

Live up to your own Legend

The pink has largely faded from his hair and Legend is ready to put that humiliation behind him.

He is.

But the problem with sharing your secrets with others is they constantly remind you that they know. Oh, they are subtle about it. For all that Sky and Twilight are earnest and open, they can both clam up with the least social of them.

A smirk stretches his lips as, despite himself, Legend recalls the 'incident' if it could be called that.

The whole group was there, sitting by the campfire, digging into one of Wild's stew. The blend of herbs, potatoes and meat had been one of those hearty dishes for calm evenings after a weary day of traveling. It was quite tasty, and Legend was content to fill his stomach with hot food. It was more than he had been able to do on many, many evenings during his adventuring days.

It had just so happened that some of the others agreed, and were much less silent in their enjoyment.

“Man, Tetra wishes we could eat that well on the sea,” Wind said, waving his spoon around without a care for the splashes of sauce. To be fair, neither Hyrule or Wild seemed to be bothered either.

“Yeah, it's great, Wild,” Hyrule agreed. “What is it?”

“Rabbit.”

Sky's mouthful sprayed out of his mouth in a dramatic cloud of sauce and half-chewed meat. And because someone upstairs had decided that Legend had suffered enough, the person sitting directly in front of Sky at the time had been Warriors.

The ensuing chaos had given Legend time for his stomach to settle, and he suddenly had the answer to a question he had never meant to ask, but he would, indeed, have made a delicious meal if the monsters of the corrupted Sacred Realm had ever caught him. It truly was just like Wild to provide that kind of answer to Life's hidden (and for good reasons) secrets.

The Goddesses love a good joke at their heroes' expenses, didn't they?

Yet, the worst part might just have been what he had realized afterward. Twilight, chillingly, hadn't reacted much beyond a chuckle at Sky's reaction and a pat on the back to a confused Wild. He'd also finished his bowl despite the incident happening before he had.

Legend wishes he knew how to feel about that. Even today, he has mixed feelings on Twilight's non-reaction. Above all things, he is not a rabbit and the rancher is not a wolf. That's the reflection of their inner light when shrouded in shadows of dark magic. It's a curse. Twilight can make use of a curse all he wants (he can't judge, what's with Ravio's bracelet), so long as he doesn't let that shadow crystal near him again.

Unfortunately, he can't exactly put it out of his mind when Sky took him aside during the morning and apologized, both for the scene and, well, you know. Sky, sweetheart that he is, mentioned that he told Wild some tall tale about it being sacred in Skyloft or something. Wild would try and avoid rabbit meat from now on.

Legend's words of gratitude come out through a curtain of heavy rain to his own ears, it feels like. The consideration is more than he knows what to do with. And... and part of him wasn't even asking for it. Heroes must stand on their own two feet.

So, yes, perhaps he is a bit more cautious than usual when traveling near Twilight or Sky today. Maybe he does slide over to the corners of their battle formations away from those two. He needs time to think, and he's no moron. He's not gonna let that affect his performance in battle in the slightest.

In fact, he was the one to land the killing blow on the hinox. Ice rods to freeze its feet, followed by a jumping great spin. Warriors lets out a low whistle upon witnessing it.

Legend's bow is only mildly sarcastic. That was damn fine fighting, if he says so himself.

They made progress today, and are nearing their objective, one of Wild's shrines. One covered in the darkness of a moonless, starless night at all times. But they do need to clean their scraps and maybe heal that concussion. Nasty hit, but Hyrule's is firm: Wild will be good as new after a few rounds of healing magic and a fairy. Which, for once, they have to spare.

Food, on the other hand...

“I've got some salted jerky,” Twilight offers.

“Ooooh,” Warriors feigns enthusiasm. “And with my goron bread and Hyrule's salted cheese, that'll be sure to finish the job.”

Hyrule's hands, which had been illuminated with the Life spell signature, twitch. “Hey! What's wrong with my salted cheese?”

There is hesitation, most of all from Legend, and then Four takes the dive. “It could give a family of plague-spreading rats a run for its rupees.”

Sad, but fair. Hyrule's cheese is a testament to his cooking as a whole. It might be edible, but Nayru herself wondered how.

Hyrule's back hunches a bit before he straightens and turns away from the other with a huff.

Legend's hands hover uselessly at his sides. He ought to say something. He wants to say something. Except he's not gonna lie and say the cheese is okay, because even Ravio wouldn't try to sell it. And then his chance is lost.

Time steps in. Strides right in the middle of the group, massaging his sore shoulder and running a hand through Hyrule's hair as he passes him by. “Alright, you've had your fun, but we do need to decide on a course of action for our next few meals. There's still plenty of mushrooms and fruits in Wild's slate.”

Sky offers himself. “I can whip up something. It won't be great, but it'll be filling.”

“Okay, but we can hunt too, can't we?” Wind jumps in. “Like, we're not in a malice-infested area or anything. I know I saw a couple of goats and deers earlier on the road.”

His stomach takes that moment to growl. And his mind wanders back to Wild's previous meal last night. His mouth even waters, before he remembers everything else about the stew and there goes his appetite.

“We've got plenty already,” Twilight says.

“Yeah...” Four gives him the side eye. “No offense Sky, but it'll be bland enough without some meat.”

It's one of those truly bizarre quirks. And Legend gets it. He hasn't survived this long without being able to understand different people. There's a... well, not certainty, but an assurance when it comes to food security and times of peace. He gets that farmers have dry years, chu-chu infestations and the likes, but Legend's known all his life to never pass up an opportunity for food, and he sees it even more pronounced in Hyrule.

It's their damned timeline. The whole thing is doomed to die.

“Let's skip another radish failure, shall we?” Legend snarks. It's only a fraction of the resentment in him, but it helps settle his heartbeat.

“I think you're outvoted, pup.”

A look of annoyance crosses Twilight's face, but he holds his tongue. Another way we are nothing alike, Legend thinks.

“We need people to forage, hunt and make camp. And look over the wild cub.” And so Time begins to pair them off, balancing them between skills and health. It's all fine and dandy, until the Old Man looks at him and Twilight, deadpan, and shrugs. “I've got a good feeling about the two of you working together.”

Sometimes, Legend just really wants to deck Time. He's certain others share this feeling. Even Twilight, for all he plays the dutiful son's part.

“Alright,” Twilight says, patting him on the back as he leads the way outside the camp. “Let's do this. Can't let Pretty Boy show us up, can we?”

Legend snorts. So, maybe they share one or two traits. But he's willing to chalk that up more to Warriors being ungodly annoying at times.

“Not gonna throw off my aim, are you?” Legend jeers. It's meant as a tease, but it comes off harsher than he meant.

Typical.

What isn't is the way Twilight just shrugs, his wolf pelts like a wave of black fur. Legend's not blind. He knows his sharp tongue used to burn Twilight's fuse. At some point though, when he wasn't looking, the whole thing had been replaced, longer and shinier than ever before.

And the way Twilight grins at him has the sort of familiarity he thought was only deserved by the likes of Time or Wild.

“You didn't forget where I grew up, didya? What do you think we do with goats exactly?”

The hook's too good not to bite. And, Ravio does say he has sharp teeth. “You'd wash my mouth with soap if I told you the truth.”

And there it is, the tick and twitch of Twilight's ears. Warriors is the only one that constantly manages to bring it out. But, well, Legend aims for greatness, doesn't he?

“Tch, ain't ever seen a Gordonian Oat up close, have you?”

In two strides, Twilight has broken the gap between them.

“For starters, they're tall.” Another step closer. “Grow up about the size of Epona. But less even tempered.”

Legend stares, resisting the urge to back down as he realizes that Twilight towers over him, and at this angle, the setting sun cast his face in shadows.

“Hu-uh.”

“More importantly, they've got horns,” he says, putting his hands up in some poor imitation of the real thing. “Can knock down a man charging. And they will. Males have a foul temper.”

Then, as if nothing happened, Twilight pulls back and knocks his bow over his shoulder.

“Besides, it's needless hunting that gets my goat.” – Legend snorts despite himself and subsequently hides away from Twilight's grin. – “I could never resist one of the Cub's meat skewers.”

Is it him, or are Twilight's teeth a bit sharper than a Hylian's should be?

“I don't think you can resist any of his cooking,” Legend snarks, smacking Twilight's stomach. “Guess you gotta fuel those muscles of yours with something, huh?”

Said big and strong hero proceeds to pout. “Like you're any better.”

Legend shrugs. “Never refuse a meal you don't think is poisoned, is my motto.”

There's the beginning of a frown, but Legend is not up for that.

“Come on, I'm not letting Pretty Boy outdo us.”

Twilight hesitates, then shakes his head and starts forward. “Do aim for the throats, if you can. I'd rather not deal with the screams.”

The screams.

Legend falters then accelerates to catch up. Screams.

Animals don't... they'll thrash, struggle, make noise, but it wasn't...

The thought lingers well into their travel, when they've passed the turn of the road and shadows burst out of Twilight's necklace.

Wolfie bounds into the undergrowth, his dark tail vanishing behind some leaves.

                                                     ***

The first prey they come across must be a rabbit.

A shy thing gnawing on leaves in the grass. Crouched low and near invisible in the dale with its brown coat. But Wolfie's senses detected it with ease. With that help, Legend sees it too.

The arrow is held tight in his hand, notched but not quite ready to fly.

Twilight glances back.

Sky would take the hard decision out of his hands and chase off the rabbit.

Twilight waits for him to choose. No matter which, Twilight'll go all the way.

They're both considerate in their own ways.

It makes Legend want to curl up in shame. To be able to at least pick how he wants to treat that secret. But he doesn't know. He spent years not thinking about it, and surprise, that did not prepare him anymore for when it blew up in the open.

Zelda would scream the mother of all 'I told you so' if she ever caught wind of this. Which is why he'll spend a lot of time ensuring he never does.

Which is another way of saying he'll run away from his problem.

Shy, nervous thing.

One cracked twig has the rabbit tense up, then scamper back into its den.

Legend lifts his foot from the twig and glares.

“You good?” Twilight asks as he emerges from shadows.

“Yeah, yeah,” Legend snips. “We had rabbit yesterday. And it's hard to hit the throat of the little buggers.”

Twilight nods sagely like that wasn't pure bullshit. “Fair enough.”

By the Goddesses, Legend must be ill because he suddenly hates the idea of getting away with it. “You know you can call me out, don't you?”

“Don't really see the need to force you to talk. Either you do or you don't. It's not like I know what you should be saying anyway.”

Well, there goes one of his hopes. Twilight looks and acts so comfortable in his skin (both of them) that Legend is a bit jealous.

“Well... what's it like, being a wolf?”

Twilight turns his head to the sun disappearing between the hills. To the darkness seeping into the sky. His gaze looks miles away from him.

“Dangerous.”

Funny, Legend would have said the same of being a rabbit, but, he suspects, for different reasons.

“Wolves aren't loved. And there's a good reason for that. They're powerful beasts with powerful senses. Sometimes, I find myself sniffing for scents I couldn't possibly catch as a Hylian. Thinking of sinking my teeth into something. You wouldn't believe the meat cravings I get sometimes. Farore, the faces my ma made the first few meals we had together after I got back.” A faint chuckle. “It's a good thing Ordon's not just harvesting wheat, 'cause I would be a miserable man in there.”

What do you think we do with goats exactly? Raise them, protect them.

Eat them.  

“Still better than turning into prey.”

Twilight's smile is smaller, but it feels more real. “Yeah, maybe, but if you ever reflect what you are on the inside, then you'll be soft, cuddly... loved.”

Legend hears everything his brother doesn't say. What would happen to Twilight if he ever let loose completely? If he gave in to his inner self?

He has a feeling his brother knows. That he felt it already.

For a second, he thinks to place a hand on Twilight's shoulder, but... he can't quite bring himself to do it.

“... Want to get back to it?” Twilight hints at the trails he was following as a wolf. “We still haven't caught anything, and I can hear Wind's accusation from here.”

Yeah, he can too. The sailor would ask him if Twilight was being a sore loser, and the others might believe it. Legend might have done that in Twilight's shoes. He's spiteful like that. Nothing like a bunny.

Twilight clutches his necklace and goes down on four legs again. No hesitation to it.

One of them embraces the shadows, the other flinches at them, and now he wonders if they aren't both stupid.

The animals they come across next are the slow grazers, the desperately hungry or the uncautious. Those that thrive in dusk, right before the nocturnal critters make the fields and woods their own.

They hunt in a silence filled with cacophonous thoughts. It doesn't affect Legend's aim. He could strike an enemy sleepwalking at this point.

And true to his word, Legend did shoot the deer dead in one hit. No struggling. No... screams.

He's about finished butchering most of it and filling his inventory with carefully wrapped pieces when Twilight comes back from his circling watch (monsters are always a concern). Judging by the bit of dark blood on Wolfie's collar, it was a successful scouting trip.

The excuse was often bullshit, but it never meant Twilight was leaving them to dry. It's a comforting thought. He's always taken a big brother role to them the way the Old Man slips between commander and father to a bunch of bokoblins.

“Hyrule talks, you know?” Legend says, softly.

Twilight plops down next to Legend's bags and makes a curious 'bork'.

“He showed me his new collection.” Legend recalls the mile-a-minute explanation, and how warm his successor's happiness had made him feel. “It was like you hung the stars in the sky. Thank you.”

There's a big dog-like grin on Wolfie's face. It's too similar to the one on his Hylian face for anyone with a brain not to link the two together. Twilight's always wearing it when he pulls Wild up, when he gives Wind a piggyback ride (and the sailor calls him a trusty steed with the thickest pirate accent Legend has ever heard). It's his grin for little siblings he's so proud of.

“How do you do it?”

Twilight tilts his head to the side, like he doesn't instantly get the question. (Maybe he doesn't, whispers a small part of Legend, maybe it's natural and it's only him that struggles with connecting to his fellow heroes.)

The words don't want to come, but he's a Chosen of Courage. He never could back down from anything.

“The big brother act,” he says. “Hyrule. I don't know what to do with him. How to be around him. I like him, he's more tolerable than most of you meddling bastards.” – A look of offense crosses the wolf's face, and it's properly ridiculous. – “He's sweet, earnest, resourceful, heck, he even has manners despite growing up in a cave! What does he see in me?”

Twilight moves a paw over the middle of Legend's chest.

But he doesn't think that's right. It can't be that.

“I... I don't get why he chose me to admire. Sure, I'm the sucker that went on the most quests, but he's gone on two himself. It can't be my charming personality. I'm a stubborn jackass who doesn't know when to quit and that cuts just as much with my wit as with my arsenal. Is it just... being his predecessor?”

A crossed look passes over Twilight's face. His ears go flat on the sides of his head, his eyes narrowing. It's a little silly, knowing Twilight, but there's also that familiar pang of fear that helps Legend survive so many quests.

His instincts prove their worth when Twilight lunges and knocks him to the ground quick enough that Legend only realizes what happened a second later.

“What the-? Get off, Farmer.”

He could. And Twilight knows he could. Twilight's just relying on the knowledge that Legend won't.

Legend resigns himself to a moment of lying on his back with a fifty tons wolf crushing him to tiny pieces. That's it, that's the only reason he doesn't whip up his high-level strength bracelets to throw off the overly affectionate wolf on top of him.

Even if he has to fake the annoyance.

“Urgh, you stubborn a-” he doesn't complete the thought.

It's like an electrified chu-chu ramming into him.

By now, every one of them has seen Wolfie wrangle Wild around the camp at least once. Has been witness to their unorthodox brother sighing and huffing about his mentor forcing him into rest. Grumbling something about hard-headed mother cuccos and joykillers.

And the next day, the two of them grinning at each other over the battlefield. Wild seeking approval like he hadn't pulled his tongue at the rancher earlier.

“... That's not the same thing.”

Wolves don't have the right to look this fucking smug.

That manipulative goat-minder!

“It's not!” Legend protests, even knowing that, yes, it is indeed the same thing.

Words unspoken drift between them from the force of Twilight's gaze. Self-deprecating things, faults and flaws and fights, the sort of things Legend cringes at the thought of, but has to acknowledge. Wild admires Twilight, and it's not a matter of perfection.

Being smushed under a wolf has a way of making you accept that, no, that brother of yours isn't that great a person.

“Even so... ”

The rumble is a question.

“That doesn't tell me how to do it.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you mean to tell me I should sit on Hyrule until he feels the love.”

A laughing bark.

Legend smirks to himself. “Yeah, didn't think so.”

And a distant, experienced and – maybe too – cynical part of him starts to understand what Twilight is doing. Why he is not shifting back to Hylian form. Even knowing the truth, knowing that the sacred beast is his dull, dutiful brother does not get through to his subconscious. Knowledge does not weigh as much as the wolf splayed over him, does not warm him the way the mantle of soft fur does. He can't build up his walls fast enough. No, not quite. He can't bring himself to build his walls fast enough.

He missed this. Someone to watch over his shoulder, someone safe, that'd step in so that Legend wouldn't be needed.

He believes in no goddess, be they the Three, whom he knows are the object of his Princess' devotion, or even that Hylia that Sky mentions sometimes. He's long since gotten into the habits of cursing the Heavens, whoever resides there. It was only fair, after they cursed him with the world.

With the Windfish.

But just this once, being protected and smothered in ways that remind him of stormy nights when his uncle was still alive. The sort of stubborn strength that held in the face of the night, of monsters. Everything.

Twilight, Legend realizes, has a mind like a bear trap. Unassuming until it springs. Then, it never lets go.

Stubborn. He hates the part of him that likes it.

“We're not the same,” he hisses.

Because Twilight's friendly, personable, easy to talk to. Because Twilight is one of those bastards that's hard to hate no matter what he does. That wins you back with a couple of words and a steady hand during a difficult time.

Legend would sooner stab you once and be done with those messes.

And Wolfie's blue eyes are this shade of cloudless sky, clear, so frank. It's impossible not to see how Twilight doesn't believe him.

Legend's heart comes ablaze.

“None of your decisions have doomed a world!”

The wolf in Twilight whines. A low, pitiful noise.

“That's how I lost her. By destroying her world and everyone that lived in it.”

Twilight nuzzles him, something a bit desperate to the force of it.

Near misses, he thinks. It worked out. But some part of Twilight probably thinks it shouldn't have. Legend knows that madness. That jump of faith through the insane traps of ancient temples and half-baked schemes in the middle of a boss fight.

Near misses, they don't count, but they're the last steps before the cliff opens up below you.

And Legend has been falling for a long time.

Telling Zelda was a second's respite clinging to an unexpected root pooking out of the earth and rock.

Now he's found another.

He's strangely not bitter that he was the only one to go through this. To triumph in the destruction of a whole island. The closest to experiencing failure on that scale would have to be Wild, who was neither subtle nor all that quiet about his conviction in his perceived flaws.

And this must be what he receives when the feelings overwhelm him, when he needs the wolf instead of any of them. Quiet, unwavering support.

The lack of words coming from Twilight is half the healing balm.

Legend's not looking for words at all. Not some magic words that'll make the turmoil die out at any rates.

He couldn't bear to hear a platitude. To hear any variation of 'it's okay' or 'it was not your fault'. It was. It had been his decision in the end. The choice sucked, but he picked one anyway. Because he is the Hero.

There had been no one else. Just him.

“What's my next decision going to bring?”

The warmth and fur shifts over his body, but still Twilight doesn't talk. With the tighter, smaller posture against his chest, Legend would guess he feels some guilt over forcing that confession out of him. It's worth a grimace, maybe, but he is too tired to give a fuck.

Legend takes a moment just staring upward. He's forgotten which Hyrule this is, how far from home he is. But the stars haven't changed. He'll bet good rupees that the constellations are nothing alike between one kingdom and the next.

He points to a cluster of lights. “That's the 'Fairy Spring'. And right next to it, 'The Raging Lynel'.”

Twilight makes a noise like a noble being shown a peasant. Oh, he must never say that outloud for fear of being punched with those moblin arms of his. Though, he had thought Twilight didn't have lynels in his era, the lucky bastard.

More names come to him. None of which trigger recognition in Twilight, but his brother listens all the same, attentive, patient. This is nice. Better.

His eyelids start threatening to droop.

A gentle, concerned whine ring to his ears, and a paw scratches his tunic.

Right. Right, they are too far from camp for him to nap. It's already a long walk, for a Hylian.

Legend suppresses the pang of envy in his chest at Twilight's cursed form. He shouldn't! But what does it say about him, the boy grown in a world always threatened by dark forces, when his inner self is a harmless bunny? What does it say about Twilight, grown through an era of peace, when his inner self is a dangerous predator?  

The successors of the Hero of Time, ladies and gentlemen!

The real shame, though, is probably that he misses that softness.

I used to love saving people... he thinks, and only notices the tear when Wolfie nuzzles him.

He knows there and then that their earlier conversation was wrong. Even if Twilight lost himself in the shadows, there'd still be something to love about him. Because Wolfie is a beast, but the others aren't wrong when they call him a gift of the Goddesses.

“Urgh, don't try and be physically affectionate with me,” he says, pushing off the cold nose.

What about me? Is there anything loveable about me, besides saving a couple of countries?

Would Uncle still be proud? Would she be able to love me as I am now?

“Why am I like this?” he asks, and is grateful for the silence.

The answer, he's known for some time.

It's when I realized no one would save me. When it comes to saving the world, I'm it. No second chances. No one to pick up the torch. If I fail, that's it. There's only me.

Wolfie's soft barks bring him out of his head, and pull a smirk out of him. He deliberately ruffles his brother's head, rough, because it wouldn't do to have him think he's gone soft that easily.

But his fear just isn't true anymore.

Twilight would save him. Hyrule would. Sky would. Any of the others would. And he'd jump in front of a sword for them just as easily.

He hasn't let down the walls long enough to

… Maybe he could try.

Leaves suddenly rustle and bushes part to let another Hylian through.

“Legend?” Hyrule's eyes flicker to the tear tracks on his face. “... This isn't the direction we saw that river, is it?”

Legend sighs and pushes Twilight off. “You're off by thirty degrees.”

Red blooms across Hyrule's cheeks, his gaze lowering to the ground.

Damn it! He isn't prepared for this! If he had just a minute to gather his wits beforehand...

“Why didn't you tell me he was coming?!” Legend hisses, resisting the urge to smack Twilight on the nose.

He prefers his fingers unnipped, thank you very much.

“Are you okay?” Hyrule asks, fidgeting. “Weren't you with Twilight?”

“Oh, huh, he went scouting ahead.” Farore! Now the rancher's stupid excuses were infecting him. Why was he the one to share that secret?

Hyrule nods. “Ah, makes sense.”

Some crows above caw.

It's the only noise in the woods.

Legend stumbles when Twilight headbutts his rear end. “Oi!” he says, turning a threatening glare at his idiot brother.

“Oh, hey Wolfie,” Hyrule says with a timid wave.

Right. Hyrule's most frequent experiences with Twilight's beast forms revolve around him being herded back to camp after another ill-fated self-appointed scouting mission. Worse when the Champion got involved and the two got into their heads to have an adventure whilst on a supply run.

Got to have fun...

He glances between Hyrule, trying to look steady in front of him, and Twilight, who is staring back at him intently.

“You don't need to be so nervous, you know?” he hears himself say.

Hyrule blinks in surprise, as does Twilight. But, well, Legend committed. He might as well go all in.

He lands a hand in the scruff of Twilight's neck, scratching through the fur. “He's a big softie.”

That would normally get him a warning growl or a painless bite. Except Twilight can't very well protest and undo all his hard work over petty jealousy, can he?

“Come on,” he tells Hyrule. “If he gets snippy, I'll bonk him on the head whilst you make your daring escape.”

“I wouldn't run!” Hyrule says, hotly. “I mean, I don't know if Life works on wolves, but I'd have to try, knowing your strength bracelets.”

It startles a laugh out of him. There's their wanderer. Ready to get in the thick of it with a sword or a spell. That's the man that'll succeed him. That's the man he has the luck to meet. And teach.

“Interesting question. It sounds like something we should test in a safe environment.”

And he jumps to the side, avoiding the fangs aiming for his buttocks. So predictable!

“Oh dear, he's gone feral!” he croons, clicking his heels to activate the pegasus boots. “No two ways about it, time to book it.”

“Wait, what?” Hyrule, the poor man, has no time to register the turn of events that Legend grabs him by the sleeves and starts to drag him away from a barking wolf.

“By the way, have I told you about that time I escaped from a pair of lynels on top of Death Mountain?”

“No!” Hyrule shouts, wide-eyed with both awe and a little fear. “Is that really the time?”

He skids to a halt just in time to avoid a blitzing Twilight bursting out of a bush. The barking rings to his ears. His heartbeat has picked up from the thrill, and he knows he will win this.

“Feels nostalgic for some reason!”

“Talk away then! Oh, and jump!”

Hyrule's hand pulls him upward, makes him weightless as if he'd done his magic cape. They launch into the air, and scramble up on the higher branches of a large oak tree. He's chuckling, a little awed by Hyrule's arsenal of spells.

And then Twilight lands on the branch next to them, hackles raised and honestly a little scary. The wood winces ominously, shakes, but holds.

“Wolves can't do that!” he yells.

“I don't think he cares, Legend!” Hyrule hops to the next tree.

And Legend stops thinking about his next move. He follows, he lets his instinct and experience guide him into this impromptu chase game. Marvels at Hyrule's tricks sometimes, preens when his gets Twilight to crash into a boar that only mildly appreciated the tackle and gets to tell the entire story on the way back to camp.

He's got a skip to his steps. He won. They both know he won this time and nothing will change that.

But, just in case, Legend will sleep with one eye open. He's seen Time's and Wild's pranks so far. And in that chain of Heroes, Twilight is both the apprentice and the master. There's no way Twilight isn't capable of their very worst.

[stayingsticky]

Peter Parker After Dark

o

Peter Parker x Reader

First Writing Ever for Peter!

Notice: The Aurora Borealis doesn’t necessarily mean magic, I just happen to use it as reference for where magic comes from. (Like Charmed, where the sister’s magic went down due to Wyatt being born) I just thought it’d be a really cool idea. 

Plot: The Aurora Borealis shows up Halloween night and it sparks a shift in Peter’s hormones and his appetite for you becomes insatiable. However, due to his recent attitude you have a different change of plans.

Warning: Orgasm denial, fingering, mirror sex, vibrator play, spanking, cursing, sub y/n. Dom!Peter!

~~~

Peter felt his resilience slowly slipping away from him as the night continued to pass. The drive home was excruciating to say the least, his head pounded at a million miles per hour, his heart beat racing unsteadily and he had a massive hard-on ever since the clock struck twelve. Peter’s spidey senses were off the rails, he was hearing voices from fifteen miles out, he was feeling more paranoid as the day went by, his strength had even grown in numbers. Ned and Happy were baffled themselves to see how easily Peter broke Gwen’s countertop accidentally. He made the best of the night as much as he could without letting these random symptoms affect his mood, however, the longer he remained from you, the more he began to yearn for you. His appetite becoming more insatiable by the second, all he could picture was your body sprawled across the bar as he licked the honey bourbon liquor from your thighs. The way you clutched onto his forearms, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you licked his neck when you teased him. It took all of his might to stifle the moan that peered up the back of his throat.

You and Peter have been together for roughly about three years, and he couldn’t be more in love. You as well, however, you had not accompanied Peter this time, not because you didn’t want to, but because he didn’t tell you. You had caught Peter in the middle of getting dressed just as you arrived home from work. After fighting with him to admit where it was he was going, he finally spoke, though it wouldn’t be the words you wanted to hear. His ex, Gwen was throwing a Halloween party, though they left on good terms and you had no reason to hate her, you couldn’t deny you were jealous. She was still in love with him, that much had been clear, but Peter knew better than to cross lines he couldn’t come back from, however, you still weren’t happy about his made up decision to go. You crossed your arms over your chest in defeat as he kissed your head, goodbye. You were more so upset because you had planned an evening for him, a sweet dinner and then some fun activities to burn off the calories you both had just put on, but he had other plans obviously. 

“Fuck!” Peter curses evidently as his hand strokes over his aching member. 

He couldn’t understand what was happening, his shaft hardening within seconds. The last time he could recall his dick being this hard, is when he saw you for the first time, it was overwhelming for Peter. He hadn’t smelled or seen such a beautiful sight since, during the evening he finally brought up the courage to speak to you his dick wouldn’t stay down. He was so horny to the point where he couldn’t even look at you, seeing nothing but your lips spew his name in bliss. He wanted to rip open the corset top you wore that evening and devour you nonstop, to see you orgasm over his shaft for the rest of the night; to Peter, this was Deja Vu all over again.

Peter honks his horn, causing his own hearing to go deaf momentarily. He clutches his head in vain, his eyes shutting tightly as his ears ring indefinitely for minutes straight. He was impatient when he wanted something, when he desired something and he was so set on getting it. His foot steps on the gas the second the light flickers green and the cars behind him eat nothing but rubber. Peter argued in his mind what he would say to you when he arrived home, he wanted, scratch that, he needed help with his voracious lust but he didn’t know how he would address it. He cursed himself out mentally for fighting with you to begin with, but he didn’t even know what it was himself, it just felt like an itch only you could scratch.

You twirl in the mirror, gandering at your newly delivered outfit. It fit perfectly, the white mini wrap skirt hugging your hips as you smooth it over your thighs. You bit your lip just thinking about how much Peter would love this skirt, it was just right, especially for him. But you shake the thought of Peter, still keeping in the front of your mind that you were undeniably upset with him. You reach for the shirt to match and it falls over your body loosely but hugs it tightly once you zip it up in the front, you push your hair back as it falls over your shoulders and sigh happily. As you turn to gather your other various packages, you fail to hear Peter’s arrival. His tense figure ruffling through his messy curls as he makes his way up the stairs. He huffs heavily in displeasure as he takes a look at his menacing bulge. His figure stops dead in it’s tracks as he watches the beautiful sight his eyes had laid upon. 

His tongue traces over his lips with need as he watches the way your bottom sways in the air, he hums silently in delight, tilting his head to peek underneath your skirt just enough. He smirks to himself as he ganders upon the tag, watching you closely he knows at this point he has the upper hand against your unmindfulness of how close he was to you. Your hands reach toward the back of the skirt to undo the button just below your lower back but before you can, you feel a warm embrace against your back.

“Peter! You scared me.” You breathe deeply as you then soon relax into his figure. 

“Sorry darlin’-” He sighs heavily as he inhales your scent, his nose resting into your neck. “You smell heavenly.” 

His hips push his member into the smooth plush cotton of your ass, you can smell alcohol on his breath but you know better than assume he was drunk, knowing he was no where near. His lips place gentle kisses along your collarbone and you bite your lip in response, Peter knows that you’re still upset, however this undying urge he feels for you suddenly surpasses that. You roll your eyes, making it known to Peter you weren’t in the mood, when that was far from it, his expression changing drastically when you drop his arms from around you. Picking up the packages, you waltz them into your walk-in closet leaving Peter standing there with a confused yet angry look on his face.

“You’re still upset with me aren’t you?” Peter follows behind you, however, you grant him with silence.

He takes a second to watch you, to watch the way the skirt hugs your curves, to watch the way the top makes your breast sit up all perky. Small sweat beads form at his forehead and soon enough, he’s damn near melting, lust choking the life from him as you seduced him without even knowing. 

“Darlin’ please, talk to me, i’m sorry.” He pleads, looking you in the eyes as you come down from the stepping stool and face him. 

“I don’t want to talk to you Peter, you completely ignored everything I told you about at the expense of your ex.” 

You march back to your bedroom, organizing the rest of the packages that were on the floor. Peter follows you back and forth as you assign your new clothes their own privileged spot in your closet. 

“It wasn’t like that baby, I swear.” His arms find themselves pulling you to him as you both rest in front of the mirror unknowingly.

You shake your head unwilling to fight with him this time, you avoid his eyes at all costs knowing what his honey filled irises would do to you. Your lip becomes entangled in your teeth as his shaft throbs against your heat, you can feel how it somewhat connects his to yours and there’s no holding back now. 

“Baby please, I need you tonight-” He sounds almost, in pain. His grip strengths on your hips as he licks your neck softly, his other hand sliding around the back of your neck.

You could feel the indifference in Peter, how something felt so off, it charmed you to know what. The heat that radiated off of him felt ten times hotter and his eyes were darker than usual, something was different about him, but what, you wondered.

“No, Peter. I’m not in the mood.” You ignore his pleas, however, you were lying. 

The heat between your legs had began a pool of it’s own deceit, staining your red lace with your nectar since Peter had hugged you from behind. Sage ringing off of him like an incense left you in paradise, not including the small teasing neck kisses he had begun to leave, by then you were already dripping.

Peter’s patience had been wearing thin since you walked away from him the first time, the imperishable hunger lingering in his eyes since the day began had immersed you in it’s grasp, you were no longer going to escape.

A faint gasp, that sounds loud and clear to Peter escapes your lips as he spins you around quickly, bracing your back against his chest. A devilish smirk materializes on his face as he watches you in the mirror.

“That’s funny being that I can smell your arousal y/n.” His voice sends chills down your spine as he says your name with grace. It rolls off his tongue like cream and you can’t help but melt into him unwillingly. 

His finger graze over your breast and he cups them roughly. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, Peter’s patience run’s thinner and thinner you soon begin to realize. In a swift moment, Peter slides his foot between your’s as if to trip you, but instead it becomes a sitting position within split second. Your legs have closed together as you cradle your knees to your chest Peter has other ideas. He pushes your hair to one side, leaving rough kisses along your neck. 

“I haven’t been aroused at all today Peter. Maybe something’s wrong your spidey senses today.” You suggest with shaky words, a smirk given by Peter lets you know that he doesn’t buy any of your lies.

“Then you wouldn’t mind showing me, would you?” His hands have your knees spread in the blink of eye. 

In this exact moment, you curse yourself out mentally for wearing red lace and your face flushes with embarrassment. He hums sexily into your ear upon noticing your wet patch, his tongue licks a long streak up your neck and onto your earlobe as he rips off your panty swiftly, you hardly even move.

“Those were my favorite, Peter.” You gasp deeply, his fingers wasting no time finding their way to your core.

“Stop, calling me Peter.” He growls harshly, his fingers teasing your center, just barely touching it. You could sense how you were pushing his buttons, the right one’s.

“That’s your name, is it not?” You smirk slightly with a fearful voice. 

Peter looks at you in the eyes through the mirror as you nibble at your lip, his eyebrows are furred and you can tell he isn’t really happy about your latest remark. Gripping your hips, he shifts you forward bringing his legs to close, he pulls you to him laying your bottom over his knees. You squeal in anticipation, his demeanor raining down heavy over you as he undoes the button he stopped you from doing. The cold gust of wind breezes over your bottom as the skirt falls over his lap, you nearly moan at the feeling of the cold air against your heat. 

Peter says nothing as the weight of his hand clashes with your bottom, you squeal out in pain and bliss as he does this again. You shield your bottom with your hands in order to prevent further collision but Peter doesn’t stand for it.

“What’s my name darlin?” He growls slightly as he pushes your hair from your face gently. 

“Peter,” You gasp with regret, but you also know it’s worth it. Peter hadn’t punished you often, only when you refused to listen or disrespected him, however today, he was just not in the mood for your shit.

SMACK!

Another hand clashes with your nearly red ass, the sound echoing throughout the room as you followed through with a yelp of your own. You were desperately enjoying this, your core becoming wetter and wetter with every second, your nipples hardening with every slap. He holds your hands behind your back and matched with his strength, you weren’t going to win. Although, you wanted more.

“My name!” He’s strict this time, his voice enduring more bass, you know you’re pissing him off right about now.

SMACK!

You cry out in a simple moan as he does this again, this time harder, the echo trails for a few seconds after and it leaves him harder than ever. Peter’s patience filing thin, but he wants you know that he’s not up for this shit, not today, not now.

“Daddy!” You whimper blissfully, his pet name rolling off your tongue like a firecracker had him weak at the knees. 

He sighs in relief, dipping a finger into your aching mound before pulling you back to the original position. He holds your left leg open with his hand as he traces your clit in small circles, your head falls back with ease, but he’s still barely touching you. You push your hips into his fingers but he pulls them back more, keeping the same pressure, you whine in agony and it releases a chuckle from his lips. 

“I bet you want more, don’t you darlin?” His voice is low and ravishing as he teased you.

Your eyes fluttering as his fingers traced over your desperate heat, his other hand unzips the top, leaving it to fall at your sides. Your nipple becomes his playground as he fiddles around your teat, his index flicking it in small circles as you stifle your moans. 

“Oh, yes-” You moan abruptly, pushing back into him.

“Too bad you were too busy being such a bad girl for daddy.” He then disappears behind you as you watch him stand, a unfulfilled expression plastered on your face.

Soon after he returns, he has something suede in his hands. You watch him intently as he sits behind you once again, spreading your legs to where they once were. He unties the knot on the suede covering and something silver and shiny falls from the sack. You suddenly remember this, Valentines day, one year, you pissed him off purposely and paid for it, with this. He had you shaking and quivering for hours, begging to orgasm already.

“Pete, no, please-” You breath heavily as he sets the vibration, his hand clasping around your neck as you call him, Pete.

“You’re going to watch yourself in the mirror as I tease and torture you with this, if you so much as think you’re going come, I best know. Understood babygirl?” He has a husky tone, aggressive too. His dick throbbing against your ass as he watches your core leak his beautiful juices, his mouth watering like ribs falling off the bone.

“Yes.” It’s the only thing you can say because in no time, he has the vibrator against your nipple as his middle finger swirls your clit. 

Your eyes roll back and you can feel your legs closing, you pry them open as you moan in bliss. Your sorrows of pleasure filling the room as he watches you. Peter moves the vibrator, bringing it to your lips, you grant him access and he uses your saliva as a lube for your teats, reapplying the same pressure once again. Your back rolls against him as he finally dips a finger into your begging heat. He moans himself, feeling how wet and tight you are. Your nails dig into the skin around his wrist as he pulls the finger in and out slowly. 

“If you weren’t being such a brat, my dick would already be inside you darlin.” He moans as he drags his finger from your heat back to your sensitive nub. 

You say nothing, your moans have gone silent and he can tell you’re so close. Your thighs are trembling gently and he continues to rub your clit slowly. Your moans are now gasps and he can hear how fast your heart is beating. 

“Ri..there.” You gasp out frantically as he speeds up his movements, however they stop once you inhale deeply. Your orgasm firing back down as he pulls the vibrator and his fingers from where you want him the most.

“Peter no-” You whine out as his fingers fall from your heat, emptiness and need filling your core.

“Still calling me Peter I see.” He has the vibrator against your heat this time, and it’s on max.

He has your wrist between his hands as you writher against him, your eyes roll back as the vibrator circles around your clit, you can’t help but smile in pleasure, and it makes Peter more needy.

“You’re so sexy, smiling in bliss. Such a beautiful slut for me.” He pinches your nipple, the feel creating an electric charge that fired up your backside.

“So, close...” You cry out as you ride your hips on the length of the vibrator.

Your orgasm feels like heaven as it surges up further but the release is no longer there, Peter pulls the vibrator from you, leaving you needy and dripping. Orgasm denial, you hated it. It’s soon replaced by his fingers, which are drilling into you, curling up and stroking the parts you need him to the most. His other hands fumbles your clit, giving you unsteady movements purposely as he kissed your neck, sucking softly. He was giving you what you wanted, bringing you right to cloud nine and then letting it float away, you were envious of it, but it all felt so good at the same time.

“Please, daddy, let me..” You beg with a whisper, his eyes watching you closely as you ride his fingers. 

His thumb finds a steady rhythm finally and it feels nearly overwhelming, his speed increasing as he curls his fingers again. You reach for your own teat, twisting and twirling it to your own liking as you reach closer and closer to bliss. You reach behind you, playing and pulling on the small curls at the nape of his neck, he growls deeply, his dick straining beneath the fabric of his jeans. 

“Come for daddy, come on daddy’s fingers. Right now.” He commands and you obey, his voice, mixed with the feeling and the image was enough to keep you satisfied for life. 

Your head lays on his shoulder as he sucks along your exposed neck, your orgasm surges through you, it creates a fuzzy cloud in your mind, Peter riding you down from your high. “That’s it, such a good girl.” He pulls his fingers from your core, his mouth taking them in with no hesitation, your clit throbs watching him, it nearly makes you wanna orgasm again as he moans in delight. 

“Knees. Now.” He demands, his eyes turning a shade of black as he rises to his feet. 

Your mouth waters as you watch him anxiously, his pants drop to the floor and you hungrily greet his red throbbing member with happiness. Your lips kiss the tip and it’s enough for Peter to curse throughly. Peter throws his head back in bliss once your mouth wraps around his shaft, his fingers interlock themselves in your hair quickly. Aggression was calling Peter’s name furiously, his knees trembling as you licked around his tip. 

“Fuck, babygirl.” He growled deeply as he looked down at you, your head bobbing slowly on his member.

Peter without remorse and thought began to thrust his hips forward, his aggression pulling through as he hit the back of your throat. You didn’t gag, but rather took on the challenge, your hands falling to your sides as he began to fuck your face. You felt yourself liking this more than you thought, your hand sliding between your thighs, you moan as you rub your clit in bliss, the vibrations giving Peter chills as you indulged him deeper. You pull a moan from his lips again as you press his tip to the back of your throat. 

“Fuck this!” He roared, pulling his hard member from your mouth. 

Peter marched over to the chaise, bringing it back over with him and threw you on top of it. His hand bent you over the backboard, your heartbeat increasing dramatically. Peter was frustrated, sexually and you could feel his tension, which was gonna be let out all over you. 

His tip lines up with your entrance, he hums seductively as he pushes himself inside you, his thrusts ragged and quick. He holds onto your hips as he licks at your neck, Peter feels primal, this feels primal. Like he needs this or else. 

“Pete, holy-” You gasp as your head falls forward, Peter however disagrees with your actions. 

His fingers tangle themselves in your hair and he pulls at the roots, your eyes roll back as his speed increases. 

“Watch yourself as I fuck you, princess-” He moans into your ear as he pushes deeper. “So tight, so wet, so pretty, and all mine.”

The chaise beneath you begins to creak, his strength increasing with every thrust, with every moan you slip. Peter’s spider side becoming more alluring as it begins to show. Then suddenly, he stops, turning you onto your back as he holds your knees above his elbows. His length filling you up as he pounds into you effortlessly, he smirks as he watches your eyes close and flutter with pleasure. Your nails dig into his flesh, Peter hisses, his hips following up with rougher thrusts than the last. You could feel him rearranging your guts and had little place to think, you knew the chaise wasn’t gonna last and neither would you. Your fingers flip around his curls as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his harsh punishment on your sex leaving you weak and wanting. Peter could taste his blood in the air as you drew it from his back.

“Who’s your daddy princess?” He releases your nipple flying over to the next, his hips creating a wave rhythm that would allow himself to curl up into your spot. Your toes curl and Peter braces his hands against the chaise as he nibbles at your teat. “Answer me!” He howls.

“Coming, daddy.” Were the only words you could put together as his eyebrows fur together. He was angry now, your orgasm rippling through you as you arched into him.

Peter’s thrust seemed endless, they were hard, rough, the chaise cracking underneath his slightest pressure but he didn’t care. He was close all he needed was your touch and that you gave him. Your fingers lock in his hair as you pull, still trying to ride our your current high, Peter’s hips smash against yours as his release finally arrives. His loud groan filling the air with fulfillment as he empties inside you. 

“Fuck y/n.” He curses into your ear, your breaths being the only silence created. 

“What came over you?” You huff heavily.

“Who said it’s gone?” Peter smirked, you could tell he meant it but were you ready? 

CRACK!

The chaise collapses beneath you, as silent as it once was it is no longer. You and Peter’s laughs fill the room as you chuckle over what happened. Peter kisses you roughly, his hands sliding over your body.

“Round two?” His eyebrow raises.

“Maybe we should hit the bed this time...” You giggle and you and Peter rush to the mattress.

~~~~

THANK YOU FOR READING! Reblog, Like, Comment. 

[sheabuttahwrites]

[I Know]

. three : talkative

two

I had been blessed with a very rare situation. Cam hadn’t left for work, yet I was home alone. He always requested that I cook the day before his flight, but, today, we didn't have all of the necessary ingredients for whatever he was asking for. I didn't care enough to remember what he wanted and, since my jaw was still a little puffy and a few marks remained around my neck, he was also forced to make the grocery store run on his own. After he had been gone for a solid ten minutes, I saw my opportunity. I hadn't actually spoken to O in ages, so I decided to call him up while I had the chance.

“Awww, man,” he answered, in a groggy tone. The deep, sexy ‘morning’ voice was in full effect. “Look at the Lord working on this fine Sunday--what time is it?--afternoon.”

“You know what?”

The comforting melody of his laughter fell into my ear. I had been craving it for the longest. “What’s up, pooh?” 

“Hey, my boo boo boo boo bear,” I half mumbled, employing a voice usually reserved only for babies. He laughed again, this time I joined him. 

“Yo, I miss you.”

“I’m saying. I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I almost forgot what you sound like.”

“Anyway,” I giggled. “You actually sound like you were sleeping. Did I wake you?”

“You most definitely did.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It’s all good, I ain't trippin’. What you up to?”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can let you go back to sleep and just talk to you later.”

“You about to hang up on me or something?”

“No, I'm not hanging up on you,” I barely replied, laughing way too hard. It even hurt my jaw a little. “I'm just trying to make sure you good.”

“Why wouldn't I be good?”

The silliest smile found its way onto my face. I was so glad he couldn't see me. “Ok, I’m done.”

When I saw her name pop up on my screen, I knew she was alone. This would’ve been a text conversation for sure. The only time we really got to talk was when she was here. Which was spaced out, but still pretty often. Her first visit was my suggestion. She sounded like she needed to get away, so I offered up my place. Understandably, she was reluctant, but decided to come a week or so after the initial invitation. We had been knowing each other for about six months then, and I felt cool enough to share my space with her. When she got here, all she wanted to do was stay inside. I didn't press her, because I was sure there was some fear involved, but I did eventually convince her to hit the streets with me. Ever since, her getaways became customary. She would hit me the day before her dude was leaving, and I’d plan to pick her up as soon as I could. She’d stay with me for two weeks, then she’d go back home for a week before she returned. She said it was because she didn't want to wear out her welcome. I told her that wasn't even possible, but I let her do it however she felt most comfortable. Either way, I enjoyed her company. The arrangement wasn't the most ideal of situations, but I just couldn't shake the fact that shit was just better when she was around. 

“Um hmm. You by yourself?”

“Yeah. He just went to the store.”

“Ok. So, what you up to?” I asked, referencing my earlier question. 

“Sitting in this house looking ugly,” she said, giggling at her own lie. “I been missin’ you, too.”

“When I’ma see you then?”

“He leaves in the morning.”

I can't lie, I always looked forward to this news. My grin was so wide I wouldn't be surprised if shorty could hear it through the phone. “Yeah? Well, I can come through tomorrow. Or you wanna wait a little bit?”

“Wait for what?”

“I mean, I was just checking. It's whatever you wanna do.”

After a slight pause, she smacked her lips and laughed, catching that this was just my way of getting her back for trying to hang up on me a second ago. “You are not funny.”

“So, you want me to come tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, O. Definitely tomorrow.”

I chuckled, hearing her try to speak through her giggles. “I'm messing with you. You know I'ma be there.”

“Um hmm. What time?”

“What time you gon' be ready?”

“Around eight-thirty or nine.”

“I’ll come at nine.”

“Yeah, that’ll be perfect. I can't wait to see you.”

“Me either. It's been a while.”

“It has. I miss your face.”

“Yeah?”

“Um hmm.”

“What you miss about it?”

For some reason, I started to blush instantly. I sat back, twirling a piece of my hair, snickering into the phone. “Anyway.”

I heard him laugh a little. “You are a trip. It’s good to hear your voice, though.”

“Yeah.” I just wished that he and Cam were more alike. Or that they could switch places, or something. O was just everything, the same way I knew that Cameron could be. But, somewhere along the way, I guess he had forgotten how to show it. “…Oh, yeah, I dreamed about you last night. We were dead ass flying.”

“What was this one about?”

I almost always shared my dreams of him with him. Only because they had all been mostly innocent. Up until last night. If I would've been thinking, I wouldn't have even mentioned it. Now I had to tell him. But no way was I about to tell him everything. “You came here, left with me, and we didn't come back,” I half lied.

“Hmmm.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know what I told you.”

“Yes,” I smiled. “I know.”

“Um hmm. Ain’t nothing changed. Whenever you’re ready.”

I bit my bottom lip, so taken by his words that I couldn't even say anything. Omari had always been honest with me. From the beginning I knew that our friendship was important to him, but I also knew that his interest in me went much deeper. I really didn't know what to do with that.  

“So, what we doing tomorrow?” He continued.

“I'm just happy to be getting away for a while.”

“You say that every time I ask you what you wanna do.”

I smacked my lips at him. He was already fully aware that I was the most indecisive person on the planet. “But it's the truth. I would come over there right now if I could,” I confessed.

“I can be there in like twenty minutes.”

“Omari, no,” I laughed. He was a mess and then some. Knowing he lived more than twenty minutes away. 

“You always giggling. Goofy self.”

We talked for about forty-five more minutes until Cam got back home. I was already downstairs in the kitchen, so I could easily hear when he pulled into the garage. Though I was nowhere near ready, I told Omari I had to go and hurried to erase all evidence of our interaction. First his number from my phone, then the smile from my face. Right before Cam walked in with takeout from King Spring, my favorite Chinese spot.

“I got Chinese. I thought maybe you would like that better than cooking.”

Barely even looking his way, I responded with a weak grin. Only because I really didn't feel like cooking. Especially not for him. “Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled, unimpressed. He sat the bag up on the counter and passed me the carryout box from the top, along with a handful of duck sauce. 

“You're welcome.”

We washed our hands and he took a seat beside me up at the island as I began to squeeze packet after packet of duck sauce onto my combination fried rice. I wasn't stuntin' his ass, but I was past ready for the food he was failing to bait me with. 

“Um... can we talk?” he had the nerve to ask.

“Cameron, seriously?”

“What?”

“You know what.” I stopped, focused on stirring my rice. “...I really don't have anything to say to you.” I started to eat, quickly forgetting that I had been punched in the jaw just a little over a day and a half ago. “Aaah,” I winced, grabbing my face. For some reason, he reached up and placed his hand to mine.

“I'm sorry.”

I dropped my arm down into my lap, mainly because I wanted him off of me. Why he felt the need to touch me at the moment, I had no idea. “Yeah, I know. You told me,” I replied, wondering if he could sense my mild sarcasm. I replaced the food that had fallen from my fork, this time being a lot more careful not to aggravate my injury as I ate.

“You still mad at me?”

Once again, my attempt to satisfy my hunger was cut short. I slowly turned to look at him and slumped my head in disbelief. He couldn't be serious. “Look at me, Cameron. Look at me. Do you see this?” I asked, holding my hair back to make sure he could get a clear view of my face and neck. “This is you. I didn't do this.”

“But, baby, I apologized for that. I'm sorry.”

He was serious indeed. So much so that I lost my damn appetite. I turned away with a frustrated sigh, allowing my fork to fall from my hand. “Cam... can we please just let it go?” 

I did not have the energy for this shit. No matter how hard I tried, I could never make him understand that his ‘sorrys’ didn't reverse my pain. They didn't take away my scars. They didn't erase all of the bad memories or make me feel more comfortable in my own home. But, still, they were all I ever got from him. And, quite honestly, I was sick of being lied to. Because, if he were ever really sorry, he wouldn't have to repeat it over and over. Because he wouldn't keep doing this shit to me.

“So, that's it? You don't wanna talk to me?”

“I don't. I don't wanna talk to you about anything right now.”

“...Aight ...ok.” I decided to just leave her alone and let her eat. I went back to my plate as well, but then I realized she wasn't eating with me. “You don't want the food either?”

“I'm not hungry.”

I sighed and looked away for a second, more upset with myself than anything. I had overreacted. She said she didn't call me someone else's name, maybe she didn't. I don't know. It’s like, when it came to her, I could turn into something so ruthless. I just loved her so much. And I’d never had to doubt her love for me. After twenty-seven years of life, I hadn't come across anyone like her. She had stuck with me through everything, given me her love, sacrificed herself and her own happiness for me. Somebody who didn't even deserve it. But I could sense her starting to get tired early on. That's when I knew I had to make moves. We needed to get far away from Atlanta. I had to become all she had. It was the only way she would stay. And God knows I didn't wanna lose her. But I wasn't treating her the way a man should. At some point, she had become like a possession to me. Maybe it was because she was untouched before me, but I just felt like she was mine. And the thought alone of another taking my place was enough to push me over the edge. I had no idea what I would, or wouldn't, do if the shit actually happened and that scared me. I don't even know if it was in me to restrain myself anymore. 

One thing I knew for sure, I was a different guy when we first started. It was never my plan to turn into this horrible person. In fact, my goal was the opposite. I wanted to be good to her; the way she was to me. I didn't want to use my hands to cause her body harm. It wasn't my intent to employ my voice in a way that would make her feel unsafe or less than the amazing woman she was. But the ability to control those impulses was something I had long lost. All the shit she was working with could drive the soundest mind mad. She was damn near perfect. Which was why I didn't understand myself in the least. Most people would kill for what I had, and I couldn't even handle it.

“Baby, I can't leave here tomorrow with us like this.” She looked over at me, her face void of any expression. “What I gotta do?”

Not a single solution came to mind and I had grown tired of him trying to force me to talk to him, so I got up and put my food into the microwave. I quietly left the kitchen and made my way upstairs to lie down in the bed I had been banished from and then reinvited to on many occasions. I fought so hard not to cry, but I did not win. Tears ran from my eyes like faucets as I hugged my pillow, wondering if he knew the depth of the pain he was causing me; if he even cared.

After a few short minutes, I felt his side of the bed sink behind me. I knew he would end up there. He always followed me around like a puppy when he'd done wrong. Which was the opposite of what I wanted him to do. But it always got him the result I guess he was looking for...

Once he was done fucking my brains out, I had to coax myself into not throwing up. I felt disgusting. Still, I had to make it seem as if everything was ok. Because, to him, it was.

There were many things that had changed about Cam over the years, but one that had remained the same was his ability to appease me sexually. I didn't like to admit it, but the way he used his body made me absolutely stupid. And, in knowing this, he often took advantage.

“I love you. So much,” he claimed, out of breath.

I smiled up at him, playing along with this sick game. “I love you.”

 Hours Later

We were still laid up; facing one another, legs tangled, and wrapped in each other's arms. His eyes hadn't left me once, and neither had his hand left my face. His caresses were endless and so were his kisses. When his lips weren't pressed against me, they were in my ear reciting countless I love you's. The guilt had him laying it on extra thick.

This was usually the time where I'd begin to exact my sort of revenge. For about the next week or so, I could get anything I wanted out of him. I had attained my phone, laptop, and use of one of the cars from time to time this very way. But, with this particular instance, I wasn't even interested in gaining anything. His leaving was enough for me.

“I don't wanna let you go,” he whispered, before kissing my lips for about the hundredth time.

“You better go pack.”

“Shit, I don't even have to leave tomorrow.”

I almost frowned, but, luckily, I caught myself. He did not need to start with that shit. No way was I about to agree with him. “...I think you should,” I somehow mustered up the courage to say. He didn't reply, but the slight confusion all over his expression was enough. “Baby, it's your job. You need to go.”

“I wasn't serious. I just wish I didn't have to leave right now, you know?”

“Yeah.” I reached and put my arm up around his neck, giving him yet another kiss. A grin spread across my face after, but he didn't seem so thrilled anymore. “It’s gonna be ok, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

About another hour later, he finally left the bed and started to get his things ready. Needless to say, I was elated and it definitely showed. I didn't even bother trying to hide it. I was nothing but smiles and giggles, and this nigga had the nerve to believe it was because of him. Seriously? How could he possibly think that he had anything to do with my newfound joy? Anything!

“It's good to see you smile again,” he told me, smiling himself. I didn't say a word. I just smiled wider, and way goofier, which only made us both laugh. “Silly girl.”

It was almost funny how clueless he was. He would probably lose whatever morals, religion, and sanity he had left if he knew I had found so much comfort in another man. Especially one who was without a doubt more attractive than him. But that was a risk I was willing to take. O was worth it.

“You not gon' help me, though?” he asked, fake pouting, trying to persuade me. I usually did help, but tonight I was exhausted. Plus, I didn't wanna help.

“I'm tired, boo.” Just as I finished speaking, a perfectly timed yawn followed. “See?”

“Damn. I probably should've done this before, huh?”

“Maybe,” I giggled, “but it's too late now.”

He laughed to himself and continued to fill his luggage as I rolled over, not worried about him or his clothes. Only one person was on my mind, and my longing would be cured in just a few hours.

[modestlyabsurd]

Breaking Bread (Loki x Reader)

"Mm."

A ... grunt? Growl? A hum? A noise. A deep noise, and it came from Loki's bed. "Where are you going?" he asks, heavy sleep in his voice.

Damn. You really tried not to wake him up.

"I was just gonna go look for a vending machine or something."

"A what?"

You shift on your feet, "Y'know, a vending machine or a drink machine. You put in some money, you pick what you want to eat and it pops it out for you."

Loki stretches his arms, "Sounds very Midgardian." He slouches back against the headboard. "And you're going to go search for one of these machines by yourself?"

"Well, yeah."

"Really? On this foreign garbage planet, in the middle of the night, dressed in your sleep wear?"

"I'm hungry, okay?" you whine, now feeling stupid about the whole thing. "I didn't eat dinner earlier."

"You wasted the Grandmaster's kind, generous, complementary food service?" Loki chides.

"Oh, well excuse me for liking my food to not be wiggling around and staring at me while I eat it!"

He shakes his head. In the dark, your eyes have adjusted and you can see him more clearly; a smirk on his face and the most ridiculously perfect bed head you've ever seen. He's sitting upright, his lower half covered by the blue sheets and you avert your eyes upon seeing his upper half exposed.

"When's the last time you've eaten?" Loki asks, after putting together that every meal the two of you have been provided has been of a similar nature - very much alive, and that he hasn't actually seen you eat anything either.

All you wanted to do was go find a fucking vending machine. Not get the third degree.

A snarky reply is centimeters away from falling from your mouth, but then you consider how different Loki sounds. He's ... concerned. And not just because you woke him up; he's genuinely concerned.

You decide to answer honestly, even though it takes a moment to remember the last thing you consumed. "Do you remember those little bowls of fruit - at least I think it was fruit - but it was served as a side with those blue, tubular creatures that you said tasted like fermented meat?"

Loki's eyes widen, before he drops his face into his hand. That was yesterday morning.

Now he's alarmed. Humans can't go long periods of time without food or water before their bodies begin the grueling process of dehydration and starvation. He's seen what can happen to those unfortunate and impoverished enough to experience it - Asgardians, at least. Never a Midgardian. He can't let that happen. Not since ... well, not since he made that promise.

The silence from Loki makes you fidget. You try to break it, "It was good, anyway. Tasted like berries but was shaped like a garlic bulb. I was gonna try to find more of it if I can't find a vending machine."

He sighs. "You're not wandering these hallways and sectors alone." It wasn't a charming, lighthearted question. It was a statement.

And it was also a relief.

"You'll come with me?" you ask, picking at your fingernails in anticipation.

Loki bites his tongue, rolls his eyes. It's as if you're a child begging for sweets, with your big innocent eyes and hopeful little voice. He feels guilt tripped, even though he can tell that's not what you're doing; it's just you. The innocence, the hope. The excitement.

"Yes - " you inhale sharply before he can finish, "I'll assist on your hunt for food suitable enough for your needs."

You exhale, a huge smile coming with it, and have to control yourself from jumping for joy. "Thank you! ... Ah, are you decent under there?"

He smirks at you. "I'm wearing trousers, if that's what you mean."

~

The hallways of this Sakaarian palace are a flamboyant shade of drab. The architectural effort is visible in the abstract door frames and corridors, painted in bright contrasting colors. These halls in particular are an artificial sunny yellow with dark blue accents - a seemingly modern appealing design. And it would be, if not for the green and brown bloodstains obviously from the mutilated victims of the Grandmaster.

They're all around. On the golden ceilings, the blue diamond patterned floors, on the chandeliers and sconces. A faint stench lingers in the air of these hallways; the best way you've found to describe it is burnt. Pair that with the stains and it's almost enough to kill your appetite.

Not quite enough, though. And it's not like Loki would let you turn back now that you've interrupted his sleep.

In the distance you hear the thumping bass music and constant hustle of Sakaar, but in these hallways, it's dead quiet. Your footsteps achingly echo with every step the two of you make. They remind you of just how big and unfamiliar this place is. How alone you are, in that you're the only living human on this planet.

Of the few people - or, beings that you've walked past so far, none have been friendly. They all seem to detest your existence, as if you smell bad or look horrifying. For the most part you keep your eyes on your little slippers padding across the glittery floor.

You must admit, though, having Loki with you takes away some of the fear about walking around this place late at night.

Unbeknownst to you, you hadn't actually woken Loki up. He knows better than to sleep in a place like this; rest will do just fine. But that doesn't mean he was prepared to drop everything and go blindly walking the palace in search for a "vending machine".

As he walks now, after putting on some more appropriate attire - lightweight boots, proper leather trousers and a skin-tight blue tunic, all courtesy of and chosen by the Grandmaster himself - he glances down at you. He notices your inward demeanor. You're taking small steps, you're breathing shortly, and he can't even see your face with your head hanging so low.

Isn't this what you wanted? he wonders. He's doing as you asked for Norn's sake.

You near two civilians congregating near a corridor to another sector. Wearing typical skimpy Sakaarian wear, both were as tall if not taller than Loki. One was frighteningly thin and the other was frighteningly large. They appeared similarly built as you and Loki, save for their bleached white skin and black gums surrounding animalistic fangs.

With eyes an unsettling shade of gold, they widen and they immediately lock onto you - not you and Loki, but you - like cats watching a mouse. The tiny hairs on Loki's neck stand on end. He immediately narrows his own eyes at the creatures, daring them to do anything further. They don't even as much as glance away from you.

Loki claims ownership. His right hand brushes your right shoulder guiding you closer to him, once again daring the aliens to make a move. The two of you pass the corridor and Loki cranes his neck to watch the creatures, long after you've passed them. His arm stays around you, connecting you at the hips the entire time.

Monsters...

"They didn't look very nice, did they?" you laugh nervously from below him. Loki looks down at you and notices you ever so slightly, probably unconsciously, leaning into him.

His face feels hot. Quickly he retracts his arm.

"Ah, no. No, they didn't."

You on the other hand, were coming down from being fucking terrified. Those people looked at you like their next meal; at any minute you thought they may step closer and say something or do something or attack ... Relief, when Loki pulled you close and hid you away, is a huge understatement.

"Thank you. For protecting me and all." You lightly elbow Loki in the arm - for emphasis, of course - sending him shuffling a foot or so outward.

He dramatically collects himself and says, "Don't get used to it. I could sense your fear from a millennia away."

Straightening his tunic and looking forward, he doesn't look at you again. He was too annoyed with everything, including himself.

But you glanced at him as you walked. He had to be tired and was definitely a little on-edge, which wasn't completely unusual. He's taking the whole trapped-on-Sakaar thing much more gracefully than you, but that isn't saying much. Yet somehow he remains composed and in control. Reserved.

Except when you elbowed him. You really caught him off guard and you haven't stopped grinning since you did it.

Seeing his ever so serious eyes locked in front of him, his clenched jaw and tight mouth. Ridiculously long, dark eyelashes, fluttering in his stupid little frustrated way. That may have played a part in your grinning also.

His intense green eyes meet yours while you're watching him. "What?" he snaps.

"Oh, nothing," you chirp. I could get used to this, you think to yourself.

Loki's face twists up in offense. "If you think that I - "

"Look!" you grab his forearm and run to a sign on the wall. It had an arrow, with an image that vaguely resembled a plate of food. Vaguely. It also had some lines that could possibly mean something if you were to understand Sakaarian, or whatever. "Wonder what it says."

"It says 'Food, this way.'"

You scoff. "Not funny, Loki."

"I'm telling the truth! It says 'Food, this way.'"

"How can you read that?!"

Loki sighs. "Have I given you a reason not to trust me?"

You think of what happened moments ago. "No," you say timidly.

"Very well. The sign is a directory sign to the eatery. I think my duties here are finished. Good night." With that Loki starts to walk back down the hallway.

"Wait!" you call, a bit louder than you meant to. He's already a few feet ahead of you now, but groans and stops to give you an unnerving glare. "You can't just leave me here, you said it yourself!"

"What I said was you can't wander these hallways alone," he corrects. "I've brought you right to your destination. What more? Would you like me to hold your hand all the way through the eatery as well?"

... Yes?

"Now if you'll excuse - "

"Loki," you plead, trying to think of a convincing reason for him to stay - something to do with him, maybe - but you think of nothing, and now if looks could kill you'd be a bloodstain with all the others.

With no other choice, you desperately explain yourself. "Look, the truth is I don't stand a chance in this place alone. I mean, did you see how those things looked at me? By the looks of it I'm probably gonna be mauled in cold blood in the middle of this floor and they'll all gather to watch! No one would bat a eye. No one - " you shove his chest sending him backwards, "no one but you. Maybe. I don't know," you hiss.

Loki licks his teeth. Sorting through conflicting thoughts; mostly from the fact that someone just laid hands on him, and that that someone was you. All else aside he's rather impressed with the nerve you do possess. You unknowingly could survive here, perhaps, if not for your innate earthliness.

He sucks on his bottom lip while eyeing your ironic fluffy slippers. "Fine," he nods, looking up. "if that's what you want. I'll be your personal chaperone."

Finally, a bit of understanding! Your arms outstretch for a gracious hug - until the cold blade of his voice, as well as a silencing pointed finger stop you dead in your tracks.

"But if you give me one reason - one reason, to believe that you'd betray me, you will be all alone to fend for yourself in this wasteland. Do you understand?"

You nod. Dry mouthed.

"Good. I don't wish to repeat myself."

And, what a perfect time for your stomach to growl perhaps the most obnoxiously it ever has, in your life. A reminder as to why you're here in the first place.

You squirm and fidget with the hem of your sleep shirt, "Sorry."

For the millionth time and counting, Loki sighs and rolls his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

~

"Why does everything have to be alive?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down, for Heaven's sake. And don't be so disrespectful to the culture of these people."

You look blandly at your plate. It appears nearly full with it being so small, since apparently Sakaar cares greatly about portion control.

The food court, eatery, cafeteria - whateverthefuck, was displayed in a ring formation with patrons on the inside and servers on the outside. Surprisingly you weren't the only patrons at such an hour; a handful of people stood around eating and drinking cocktails - minding their own business, thankfully.

You find Loki contemplating the mixing bar to the left serving drinks, but he ended up staying with you. He translated the description of each food from the charming little labels standing near them. Charming, indeed, compared to the elaborate display of every item. At first glance to you, they appear to be expensive delicacies, until Loki read the labels.

And while the water-centipede noodle soup looked very appetizing at first, that ended when you approached and the bugs begun to stir.

Throughout the menu you're left with few alternatives that weren't moving. Your plate currently consisted of a tiny loaf of stale bread and a blue jam made of the same fruit from the other morning (which you couldn't begin to pronounce the name of). It won't sustain you for too long, but you've already gone this far on way less.

That's of no comfort to Loki, though.

Though he won't say it, he relates to your disgust and is still plotting on a way to escape this place. He hasn't forgotten about the obedience disk implanted in your skin - quite the opposite, as he continues to recast his Seidr on it every night, while you sleep. To keep you from complaining about it. But if it's not one thing, it's the next ...

Like now. You can't possibly survive long on a mere bit of bread and jam. He can't even do that. Oh, but it's the only thing that isn't alive. Death? You'll face death with a mighty fist! Unless death is alive, of course.

Loki does have a conscience, so he can't just abandon you here. But Gods, you're making him want to.

"Come on, there's a few more courses to choose from," he urges you forward.

The last two items looked promising. One was a pyramid display of small black eggs, which were in fact not eggs at all. "What are they?" you ask Loki.

"They're called 'eyes of the dead'. It consists of - "

"Nope."

Loki scoffs, "Would you let me finish?"

"No, I'm not eating something that has eyes."

"You are insufferably prejudiced."

When you say nothing in return, Loki feels a pang of regret. After all, the eyes are rather unsettling. He likely wouldn't eat them either. Especially now that they can't seem to look away from him, following his every move.

"I guess this is my last choice," you sigh. "Looks promising, at least."

He finally musters the courage to look away from the nasty creatures. You're standing somberly by the end of the court; he leans over your shoulder to read the label and is astonished.

You look up and find Loki's jaw dropped, his face close enough that you can see the green ocean swirling in his eyes. "You okay?"

Loki glances down at you, still in shock. "This is from Asgard."

"Really?" you blink. "What is it?"

He shudders. "They're calling it 'Tastes of Asgard', but it's just mutton chops, sheep's cheese and honey cake."

That sounds like heaven. Or Asgard, apparently.

But before your stomach takes over your mind, the answer to Loki's distress hits you. "How do they know what you eat in Asgard? Unless you've told them?"

Loki eyes you wordlessly, but says enough.

You hiss, "You don't think there's more Asgardians here, do you?"

"We'll talk about it privately. For now, do you want to try this or not?"

Your minds still running a mile a minute. How could anyone else from Asgard end up here? This place is for bottom feeders! You and Loki stick out like sore thumbs in this landfill with Loki practically being royalty and you - well. You being with him. You begin to shift on your feet anxiously when your eyes land on the mutton again.

Another opportunity to try food from Asgard may never arise again. Of course you want to!

"On one condition."

Loki huffs and rolls his eyes. "What?"

"Will you try some with me?"

~

Those emotional nights when cheese and crackers are more satisfying than the most elaborate Thanksgiving dinner; that's what you thought of. Somehow you were reminded of home. The Sakaarian bread was stale, but had a pleasant sourness that complimented the sweet, blue fruit jam and the sharp sheep's cheese. It was a means of comfort.

And when you and Loki played rock paper scissors to see who would try the "mutton" first, he indeed informed you that it wasn't authentic sheep from Asgard, but rather it was from Midgard. You tried it next and were pleased.

It didn't cross your mind how little manners you were using - wiping the grease and jam from your mouth ravenously - until you looked across the balcony and noticed that Loki had barely eaten any of his food. Instead, he gazed into the empty, colorful Sakaar sky. Something was bothering him.

"Why aren't you eating?" you slur, covering a mouthful of honey cake with your hand.

Your voice breaks Loki away from his thoughts briefly. He cringes. "You've killed what little appetite I'd acquired."

"I told you I was hungry," you defend yourself. A moment of silence passes as Loki looks back to the sky. It was easy to stare at, as it seemed to lure you in. As if it were trying to hypnotize you into believing there was some kind of beauty here. But the real beauty sat beside you.

"Do you think there's more of your people here?" you mutter.

Loki nearly bites back something about his true heritage, but chooses not to. He senses your honesty, your naivety. He absently cuts his honey cake with his fork. "I think there's one person in particular here."

"Who?"

He smirks despite himself. "Well, this meal is the true indicator. It isn't the same as I recall, but it's a cheap attempt to replicate it."

You stay quiet, confused as hell. You take another bite of the delicious honey cake that tastes anything but cheap.

"I knew this would happen eventually. It always does."

"What?" you ask urgently, not wanting him to veer away.

"This is Thor's favorite meal."

~

another tale from Sakaar! I love these. And to those who read the whole thing, I seriously applaud you. I don't know what happened. It started as one little sentence/idea and it just kept going and going and going and going and

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[pixcldust]

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 ;

pairing | iwaizumi hajime x gn! reader

wordcount | 1.5k

warnings | mild mention of death, slight angst i think, small letters on purpose

tags | ambiguous ending, friendship to something more, no beta bc im shy

a/n | i don't write gender neutral often (i barely write in 2nd pov tbh) so if i messed something up, pls let me know!! it’s 1am but i couldn’t sleep lmaoo i’ll try to sleep again after posting this.

the beginnings of a love story in three parts. 

i.

it starts in the summer, with you lounging on a deck chair, eating candy that turns your tongue blue. you’re wearing shorts and a tanktop, in one of your friends’ big backyard, watching them scream and laugh in the pool. the sun feels like hell on your bare skin but the laughter is infectious and you’re laughing with them. never mind that it’s your last year of senior high school and that after this, you may never see half of these kids again. there is only the here, the now, and it’s brighter than you’ve ever felt for most of your life.

he comes over, a wide smile on his tan face and pool water dripping off his hair. his fingers move deftly to flick water at you, laughing as he dries his hands and picks up his phone. despite flipping him off, you note his good mood - it’s a rare sight to see him play around so childishly like this. you find that you quite like it.

“done with swimming?” you ask. he nods, eyes on his phone. the first few beats of some hip hop song that you don’t recognise starts playing from its speakers.

“my fingers look like prunes,” he groans as he puts down his phone and splays out his fingers at you childishly. you scrunch your face up at him in return.  “plus they want to go eat pizza after this, and hanamaki is gonna take years to shower so i wanted to get a headstart.”

“we’re eating pizza after?” you roll your eyes. “damn these kids and their big appetites.”

“you’re not hungry, because you’ve been eating so much candy,” he wrinkles his nose at the packet of pop rocks in your hand. “that’s not good for you, y’know?”

there’s a pause, him staring at you and you staring at him - time in a frozen state - before you sigh and motion for his hand. “if you wanted some, you could’ve just asked.”

iwaizumi grins as you pour some on his hand. his smile gleams bright against his skin. “thank you.”

he throws them into his mouth as he runs off to take a shower, and you feel a smile curve your lips. it’s odd. your boyfriend isn’t here - he’s opted to train today, even though it’s probably the last time all of you will ever be close together like this - but you can feel your heart skipping the way it does when you’re with him.

ii. 

you and oikawa started dating at the beginning of your third year. 

it was bound to happen eventually; at least, that’s what most of your friends told you so. you have always been friends with tooru and iwa and, when you reached high school, makki and mattsun. tooru was always the popular one, iwa was the reliable one and you were the calm one. a package deal - girls, students in general, who were interested in oikawa and were too intimidated to approach iwa would come to you. frankly, you didn’t mind. everyone had had a crush on oikawa at least once, and it wasn’t like you were any different when you were younger.

what you didn’t expect was for him to confess to you in your second year. it’s burned in the back of your memory: under the shade of one of the staircases near the gym, in the middle of your lunch break, tooru’s face reddening in embarrassment. you said yes, because you’ve always found him funny and cute and attractive in all the ways more than physical and wasn’t that enough to make a good relationship? 

apparently not, since it’s been several months since you last had a proper conversation with him.

he’s in the gym again today, still training by himself, even though he’s already graduated. he’s going to go overseas, to continue his volleyball training in another team. you know this because that was what he told you the last time you two had a proper conversation. good luck, you said to him because you know that volleyball meant that much to him. never mind that he always, always, always put the sport before you, because even though he was your boyfriend, he was also one of your best friends and that meant supporting his dreams. you’re going to be amazing.

you can hear the squeak of volleyball shoes on hard floor, the thwack of ball against flesh, as you approach the gym doors. he’s there - alone, because school’s out for the end-of-term holidays - and he doesn’t immediately notice you standing there. his eyes are too focused on the ball as he sets to himself. he’s always too focused on the ball.

when he does see you there, he lets the ball drop and give you a smile. “hey y/n. what are you doing here?”

seeing his happy face chips at some of your initial confidence and your words falter at your lips, unwilling to come out. a deep breath because if not now, then when? would you really be okay with letting this relationship drag on and on? if there’s one thing you’re certain of, it’s this: you have fallen out of love with oikawa tooru. and he knows it.

“tooru, I think we should break up.”

it hurts a little, if you’re being honest, as you watch the smile slide off his face, giving way to a soft frown. you know he’s had to do this before, watch a person leave him because he was a little too selfish to give up volleyball for anything else, and you hated knowing that he was going through it again. your fault this time. but you know he’s seen this coming. even matsukawa has asked if you were doing okay in a rare bout of seriousness before. at the time, you didn’t know how to answer the question.

oikawa tooru is a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid. he should have seen this coming from miles away, a freight train hurtling at him with its headlights bright and glaring. it’s deliberate ignorance; oikawa saw the train. he just didn’t feel like stepping off the tracks.

“is this because of volleyball?” he asks, tilting his head. he doesn’t have an argument against you, and you know it’s because he’s felt the romantic love for you die off back to a platonic one. like you felt it. “if so, i’m sorry y/n, i didn’t mean to make you feel lonely-”

“it’s okay, tooru. i’m really proud of you, y’know? and... i hope we can stay friends.”

the last sentence sounds more like a question but he’ll understand. his frown disappears at your words, and while it’s not a smile, it’s something like acceptance and that’s good enough for you at the moment. picking up the ball, he nods. “me too.”

iii.

you’re in a tank top and shorts once again, under blistering heat, only this time they’re new clothes, and it’s just you and hajime. all your friends have grown up and out, dotted all across the country. you hum to yourself, stretching your fingers. hajime passes a packet of pop rocks to you.

“hey haji. have you ever thought about death?”

he eyes you suspiciously like you’re about to trick him with nothing but words, and it makes you want to laugh. “sometimes, yeah.”

makki and mattsun moved out of miyagi after high school opting to attend fancy universities in tokyo. tooru left japan completely - said he was going to train twice as hard overseas after the opportunity presented itself. that just left you and iwaizumi, attending the same college in miyagi. you didn’t mind and, despite iwa’s occasional huffs, he never seems to mind either.

and maybe it’s because the both of you are older now, because you’ve found someone who doesn’t mind the way you prefer to skip over small talk, but recently it feels like hajime has been becoming your source of energy more and more. after classes end, he’s quick to send you a text and you’re even quicker to respond - at this point, you’ve visited almost every cafe in miyagi. even the shitty ones, to hajime’s dismay and your amusement.

“we’re so old now, it feels like i’m on the brink of death,” you groan, pouring pop rocks straight into your mouth. they fizzle like miniature fireworks on your tongue. 

a magazine smacks you on the head but you can’t be bothered to turn and glare at him. you opt to glare straight ahead of you instead, to the pool and the few people in it. sunlight bounces off of the glittery water and your glare turns to a squint. “you’re 21, you’re not 71.”

“maybe it’s the heat getting to me.

“yeah, it’s seriously hot today,” iwaizumi knits his brows, sitting up in his seat. you steal a glance at his exposed biceps - bless his tank top - and feel a strange pound in your chest. opting to ignore it, your lips unfurl into a grin.

“sorry about that.”

the magazine thwacks you on the head again, but not before you see his lips curl into a amused smile to match yours. “shut up.”

all your friends have grown up and out, but your happiness is only beginning.

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.13

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” said Agatha acidly as Nairi held the door to the pizza place open for her.

“I’m sorry,” said Nairi, no longer feeling particularly apologetic after a week of saying nothing but. “We’ll only be here for what, an hour? And then we can go.”

She didn’t love that she was already on edge. It was hardly the first time in her life that she was deliberately sitting down to spend a couple of hours with an unpleasant man, but it was still frustrating. She liked spending time with Agatha and Linden who were only occasionally frustrating, but they tended to get tense and catty with each other, and Nairi’s teeth were aching at the thought of dealing with that on top of Simon.

Well. They were usually catty, but when not talking about relationships they could be relied on to be friendly-catty rather than terse-catty.

Linden was sitting alone at one of the tall tables near the centre of the restaurant, and she waved at them as they approached, her smile wide. “Hey guys!” she said as Nairi sat down across from her, and if her smile was fake then she at least sounded pleased—or, well, relieved, at any rate.

“No boyfriend yet?” asked Agatha archly, sitting next to Nairi with a disapproving curve to her lips as their eyes met.

“He’s running late,” said Linden, clasping her hands together in front of her and making her bracelets jingle. “Promised he’d treat me to a nice big pie and dessert to make it up to me, though!”

“Nice of him,” said Nairi, snagging a complimentary breadstick, more out of habit than hunger.

“Very,” said Agatha, inspecting a menu without looking up.

Linden’s expression faltered. “Yeah,” she said anyway.

Nairi knocked their ankles together under the table in an attempt to reassure, and Linden flashed her a grateful look, the tension across her shoulders loosening a little. “Things are going well then?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of water and pushing the jug towards Agatha, who ignored her.

“As well as they can be,” said Linden, nodding a little too much, her bracelets jingling again. “I mean, things get bumpy occasionally, but we really haven’t known each other for long in like, the grand scheme of things. We already know we like each other, so we’re just feeling everything else out as we go.”

“Oh goodie,” muttered Agatha, pushing her glasses up her nose again before setting the menu down and joining the conversation. “Nick likes this one, then?”

Linden snorted. “Simon’s not that exceptional,” she said dismissively. “Nick thinks he’s too flaky.”

Agatha glanced at her watch conspicuously. “I wonderwhy.”

Linden gave her a sharp curve of a smile, darkly amused. “Look, that might be a dealbreaker for Nick, but he’s not the one dating him. I can handle a little flakiness, and besides, he’s working on it.”

“Is he working on anything else?”

“Yes,” said Linden, looking Agatha right in the eye. “Nick told me—I promise he won’t call you that ever again, I even slapped him around a little to make it stick.”

“Right,” said Agatha, unimpressed in the face of Linden’s humour. “Because if he does then I’m just going to leave. Why does he even talk like that in the first place?”

Linden wrinkled her nose. “It’s his masters, I swear, he spends his entire time with his nose up the ass of these old school poets, and then he like, forgets that language has changed in the last eighty years? It’s really annoying, he literally called me the ‘whore of Babylon’ the other day and then got offended when I told him to fuck off because I ‘didn’t get the compliment’.”

Nairi snorted.

“Oh! Such a catch! I suddenly understand why you’re so determined to make this relationship work,” drawled Agatha.

“It’s a better basis for a relationship than some I could name,” said Linden snidely, narrowing her eyes across the table.

Damn, Agatha’s last boyfriend must have been a real piece of work. “There’s always going to be worse relationships out there,” said Nairi diplomatically. “And I mean, people are even meeting and dating on the internet these days, everything starts somewhere.”

“Exactly,” said Linden, relaxing a little with a grin. “That’s a bad basis, we all know the internet’s for porn and arguing with strangers.”

“And LOLcats, don’t forget those,” said Agatha, nodding at her.

“How could I?” said Linden, her grin widening.

Nairi was saved from having to ask what the fuck a ‘LOLcat’ was by Simon’s arrival. “Hello ladies,” he said breezily, draping his coat over the back of the free chair with a waft of eau-de-cigarette over the table. He leaned in and kissed Linden’s cheek from behind before sitting. “Hello babe, sorry I’m late, transport was a bit of an issue.”

“You’re fine,” said Linden, smiling indulgently at him as he sat. “Just gave us time to work up an appetite.”

Thankfully, the process of deciding on pizzas and drinks, and then the conveying all of that information to the waitress meant that Nairi didn’t have to speak directly to Simon. It also meant that he didn’t try to speak with Agatha, who was coolly ignoring him from across the table with a total lack of eye contact that veered dangerously close to the border between ‘civility’ and ‘rudeness’.

Once the food actually arrived however, she was out of luck.

Pretty much every pizza on the menu that wasn’t explicitly vegetarian had some kind of bacon or ham or pork-based sausage in its toppings, so there wasn’t any quibbling or half-and-halfing on the one Nairi was sharing with Agatha. Simon, however, had ordered without asking Linden, which she’d ignored, much the same way she’d ignored Agatha’s quiet snort at him doing so. Nairi was about ninety percent certain Linden didn’t even like green peppers.

“So,” said Simon brightly, gesturing across the table with his wine glass. “How have you two been this week? Anything exciting?”

Agatha took an enormous bite of pizza and chewed loudly, glancing at Nairi. Nairi sighed internally and lowered her own slice to answer him. “Not terribly exciting. Work, mostly.”

“That’s right,” he said, chewing obnoxiously and giving Nairi a chance to start eating. Next to him, Linden was carefully tugging peppers off the surface of her pizza. “Lindy said you did some kind of fighting thing, right? MMA? Kickboxing? Sweaty punch ups in sports bras?”

“…I teach judo,” said Nairi eventually. “Early days at my dojo, I don’t have a lot of students yet, I’m afraid. Uh, Agatha’s working on a paper at the moment though, that’s a bit more interesting.”

“Really? What’s it about?” asked Simon, turning both his attention and his chewing maw towards Agatha.

“Diatomic elements,” said Agatha shortly. “It’s just about nucleics, I’m not reinventing the wheel or anything.”

Simon stared at her blankly. “Oh, of course. Uh, I’m afraid I’m not familiar, is your field—?”

“Chemistry,” supplied Agatha, turning her attention back to her dinner. “My PhD was on inorganic, but I’m still in the process of post-doc applications so I’m mostly twiddling my thumbs and writing contributions in the meanwhile.”

“Right,” said Simon, his face showing a total lack of comprehension. “Academia’s a lot like that, terribly stiff in the paperwork and appropriateness departments. The right body of work and all that—I know exactly how it feels, I was going to do my thesis on the erotic underpinnings of Virginia Woolf’s work and the reflection of her relationship with her husband, but my advisor was really very pushy about playing it safe and sticking to Eliot’s body of work in the immediate post-war era.”

“Oh yes, much safer,” said Agatha with no inflection in her tone.

Simon laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and taking another long drink of his wine. “You know, Lindy said you had a sense of humour, and I must confess I didn’t quite believe her at first! Mistakes all around.”

He punctuated this with a conspiratorial wink across the table at her, though Nairi didn’t quite understand what was so funny about it. At a glance, neither did Agatha or Linden. Linden actually looked… embarrassed? It was only for a second, the expression gone almost as soon as Nairi noticed it, Linden covering the bottom half of her face with her glass as she took a sip.

“So how long have you two lovebirds been dating anyway?” Simon continued, not even glancing at Linden next to him with her small pile of peppers or his ignored slice of pizza on the plate in front of him.

“A few months,” said Nairi, her own dinner looking more unappetising by the second. “Since September, I think?”

“That’s about right,” said Agatha, the lines around the corners of her eyes easing as she glanced at Nairi. “Five or six months now.”

“Charming,” said Simon, polishing off his wine, smile bright and enthusiastic as he gestured. “You know I’ve always greatly enjoyed the figure of the lesbian, in real life as well as literature. Excising the men from the bed and the home—it’s always so representative of the purest form of womanhood, really illuminates the truth of femininity. And the politics of it! The ultimate commitment to the feminist ideal, the usurpation of the patriarchy from its most foundational stronghold in the home at the head of the family. Really brilliant stuff!”

Agatha’s eyebrows were somewhere around her hairline.

Linden laughed awkwardly, nudging Simon as she leaned in a little over her plate. “Well, I mean, it’s always gonna be a bit different from books, hun. People are people, real life is always more, uh—”

“Oh yes, yes, of course,” said Simon dismissively, nodding at her. “And writers have a tendency to exaggerate and eroticise that type of relationship as well.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that kind of relationship?” asked Agatha, tone sharp.

Nairi tensed as Simon opened his mouth and started bloviating again. Linden swallowed whatever she was going to say, giving up and quietly eating instead, leaning on one elbow.

Simon’s phone buzzed loudly, and he took a second to check it while Agatha sucked down on the straw in her water glass through her furious, pinched expression.

“Oh, I’m so sorry ladies,” he said, standing up as he punched a few buttons on his phone. “I have to run. I have thoroughlyenjoyed this discussion though, especially with you Miss Davids, we’ll have to do this again sometime—”

“Doctor,” corrected Agatha.

“Oh, that’s right, very good, attagirl!” said Simon breezily as he tugged his coat on, and a muscle in Agatha’s jaw visibly twitched.

“Oh, Si, really?” said Linden, frowning at him anxiously as he kissed her cheek. “But we were gonna go get ice cream af—”

“Really?” said Simon, with a piss-poor attempt at a surprised look. “I didn’t think so, babe, I had plans. There’s no need to end the night just because I’m leaving though! You should all have some fun, I’ll see you later, and I promise I’ll catch the next cheque!”

He was already walking away as he spoke, hand raised in farewell even as Linden opened her mouth in dismay. “Wait, Si, I can’t—and he’s out. Great.” She slumped in her seat as the door swung shut across the room and gave them a glum sort of smile. “Sorry guys, I kind of thought that would go better.”

“Really?” said Agatha under her breath, covering it with the movement of setting her glass down.

Nairi ignored it. “I mean, it’s not exactly your fault—” Agatha snorted “—do you want me to grab you a pizza you actually like?”

Linden gestured at Simon’s largely untouched pizza with an eyeroll. “No, I’ll live. Already gonna have to pay for this one.”

“I’ve got it,” said Nairi, tugging her wallet out. “May as well just pay for everything while I’m up. Do you want something a bit cheesier?”

Linden looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable, and then something in her relaxed and her mouth twitched into a wry smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Agatha turned her head as Nairi left the table, saying something she couldn’t quite hear. Her tone sounded dry rather than snappish, so Nairi didn’t think too hard about it. She got them another round of drinks while she was sorting out the extra pizza as well—it would probably go a ways to easing Agatha’s temper and cheering Linden up.

From the looks of things when she returned to the table though, they’d managed to have an argument in the few minutes she’d been gone.

“Better food and new drinks on the way,” she said, sliding into her seat and pretending she couldn’t see the angry twist in Linden’s lips, or the clenched tension in Agatha’s hands.

“Awesome,” said Linden, flashing her a sunny, fake smile as Agatha scoffed. “You know, I was just saying to Aggy that since this turned out to be such a bust that maybe we should try having a girl’s night instead, you know? Just us, maybe with Flo too.”

“Oh yeah,” said Nairi mildly, gently pressing the back of her hand against Agatha’s on the tabletop. “What did you have in mind?”

[iknowff]

. three : talkative

I had been blessed with a very rare situation. Cam hadn’t left for work, yet I was home alone. He always requested that I cook the day before his flight, but, today, we didn't have all of the necessary ingredients for whatever he was asking for. I didn't care enough to remember what he wanted and, since my jaw was still a little puffy and a few marks remained around my neck, he was also forced to make the grocery store run on his own. After he had been gone for a solid ten minutes, I saw my opportunity. I hadn't actually spoken to O in ages, so I decided to call him up while I had the chance.

“Awww, man,” he answered, in a groggy tone. The deep, sexy ‘morning’ voice was in full effect. “Look at the Lord working on this fine Sunday--what time is it?--afternoon.”

“You know what?”

The comforting melody of his laughter fell into my ear. I had been craving it for the longest. “What’s up, pooh?” 

“Hey, my boo boo boo boo bear,” I half mumbled, employing a voice usually reserved only for babies. He laughed again, this time I joined him. 

“Yo, I miss you.”

“I’m saying. I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I almost forgot what you sound like.”

“Anyway,” I giggled. “You actually sound like you were sleeping. Did I wake you?”

“You most definitely did.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It’s all good, I ain't trippin’. What you up to?”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can let you go back to sleep and just talk to you later.”

“You about to hang up on me or something?”

“No, I'm not hanging up on you,” I barely replied, laughing way too hard. It even hurt my jaw a little. “I'm just trying to make sure you good.”

“Why wouldn't I be good?” 

The silliest smile found its way onto my face. I was so glad he couldn't see me. “Ok, I’m done.”

 When I saw her name pop up on my screen, I knew she was alone. This would’ve been a text conversation for sure. The only time we really got to talk was when she was here. Which was spaced out, but still pretty often. Her first visit was my suggestion. She sounded like she needed to get away, so I offered up my place. Understandably, she was reluctant, but decided to come a week or so after the initial invitation. We had been knowing each other for about six months then, and I felt cool enough to share my space with her. When she got here, all she wanted to do was stay inside. I didn't press her, because I was sure there was some fear involved, but I did eventually convince her to hit the streets with me. Ever since, her getaways became customary. She would hit me the day before her dude was leaving, and I’d plan to pick her up as soon as I could. She’d stay with me for two weeks, then she’d go back home for a week before she returned. She said it was because she didn't want to wear out her welcome. I told her that wasn't even possible, but I let her do it however she felt most comfortable. Either way, I enjoyed her company. The arrangement wasn't the most ideal of situations, but I just couldn't shake the fact that shit was just better when she was around. 

“Um hmm. You by yourself?”

“Yeah. He just went to the store.”

“Ok. So, what you up to?” I asked, referencing my earlier question. 

“Sitting in this house looking ugly,” she said, giggling at her own lie. “I been missin’ you, too.” 

“When I’ma see you then?”

“He leaves in the morning.” 

I can't lie, I always looked forward to this news. My grin was so wide I wouldn't be surprised if shorty could hear it through the phone. “Yeah? Well, I can come through tomorrow. Or you wanna wait a little bit?”

“Wait for what?” 

“I mean, I was just checking. It's whatever you wanna do.”

After a slight pause, she smacked her lips and laughed, catching that this was just my way of getting her back for trying to hang up on me a second ago. “You are not funny.”

“So, you want me to come tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, O. Definitely tomorrow.” 

I chuckled, hearing her try to speak through her giggles. “I'm messing with you. You know I'ma be there.”

“Um hmm. What time?”

“What time you gon' be ready?”

“Around eight-thirty or nine.”

“I’ll come at nine.”

“Yeah, that’ll be perfect. I can't wait to see you.”

 “Me either. It's been a while.”

“It has. I miss your face.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Um hmm.”

“What you miss about it?”

 For some reason, I started to blush instantly. I sat back, twirling a piece of my hair, snickering into the phone. “Anyway.”

I heard him laugh a little. “You are a trip. It’s good to hear your voice, though.”

“Yeah.” I just wished that he and Cam were more alike. Or that they could switch places, or something. O was just everything, the same way I knew that Cameron could be. But, somewhere along the way, I guess he had forgotten how to show it. “…Oh, yeah, I dreamed about you last night. We were dead ass flying.” 

“What was this one about?”

I almost always shared my dreams of him with him. Only because they had all been mostly innocent. Up until last night. If I would've been thinking, I wouldn't have even mentioned it. Now I had to tell him. But no way was I about to tell him everything. “You came here, left with me, and we didn't come back,” I half lied.

“Hmmm.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know what I told you.”

“Yes,” I smiled. “I know.”

“Um hmm. Ain’t nothing changed. Whenever you’re ready.”

I bit my bottom lip, so taken by his words that I couldn't even say anything. Omari had always been honest with me. From the beginning I knew that our friendship was important to him, but I also knew that his interest in me went much deeper. I really didn't know what to do with that.

“So, what we doing tomorrow?” He continued.

“I'm just happy to be getting away for a while.”

“You say that every time I ask you what you wanna do.”

I smacked my lips at him. He was already fully aware that I was the most indecisive person on the planet. “But it's the truth. I would come over there right now if I could,” I confessed.

“I can be there in like twenty minutes.”

“Omari, no,” I laughed. He was a mess and then some. Knowing he lived more than twenty minutes away. 

“You always giggling. Goofy self.”

We talked for about forty-five more minutes until Cam got back home. I was already downstairs in the kitchen, so I could easily hear when he pulled into the garage. Though I was nowhere near ready, I told Omari I had to go and hurried to erase all evidence of our interaction. First his number from my phone, then the smile from my face. Right before Cam walked in with takeout from King Spring, my favorite Chinese spot.

“I got Chinese. I thought maybe you would like that better than cooking.”

Barely even looking his way, I responded with a weak grin. Only because I really didn't feel like cooking. Especially not for him. “Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled, unimpressed. He sat the bag up on the counter and passed me the carryout box from the top, along with a handful of duck sauce. 

“You're welcome.”

We washed our hands and he took a seat beside me up at the island as I began to squeeze packet after packet of duck sauce onto my combination fried rice. I wasn't stuntin' his ass, but I was past ready for the food he was failing to bait me with. 

“Um... can we talk?” he had the nerve to ask.

“Cameron, seriously?”

 “What?”

“You know what.” I stopped, focused on stirring my rice. “...I really don't have anything to say to you.” I started to eat, quickly forgetting that I had been punched in the jaw just a little over a day and a half ago. “Aaah,” I winced, grabbing my face. For some reason, he reached up and placed his hand to mine.

“I'm sorry.”

I dropped my arm down into my lap, mainly because I wanted him off of me. Why he felt the need to touch me at the moment, I had no idea. “Yeah, I know. You told me,” I replied, wondering if he could sense my mild sarcasm. I replaced the food that had fallen from my fork, this time being a lot more careful not to aggravate my injury as I ate.

“You still mad at me?”

Once again, my attempt to satisfy my hunger was cut short. I slowly turned to look at him and slumped my head in disbelief. He couldn't be serious. “Look at me, Cameron. Look at me. Do you see this?” I asked, holding my hair back to make sure he could get a clear view of my face and neck. “This is you. I didn't do this.”

“But, baby, I apologized for that. I'm sorry.”

He was serious indeed. So much so that I lost my damn appetite. I turned away with a frustrated sigh, allowing my fork to fall from my hand. “Cam... can we please just let it go?” 

I did not have the energy for this shit. No matter how hard I tried, I could never make him understand that his ‘sorrys’ didn't reverse my pain. They didn't take away my scars. They didn't erase all of the bad memories or make me feel more comfortable in my own home. But, still, they were all I ever got from him. And, quite honestly, I was sick of being lied to. Because, if he were ever really sorry, he wouldn't have to repeat it over and over. Because he wouldn't keep doing this shit to me. 

“So, that's it? You don't wanna talk to me?”

“I don't. I don't wanna talk to you about anything right now.”

 “...Aight ...ok.” I decided to just leave her alone and let her eat. I went back to my plate as well, but then I realized she wasn't eating with me. “You don't want the food either?”

“I'm not hungry.”

 I sighed and looked away for a second, more upset with myself than anything. I had overreacted. She said she didn't call me someone else's name, maybe she didn't. I don't know. It’s like, when it came to her, I could turn into something so ruthless. I just loved her so much. And I’d never had to doubt her love for me. After twenty-seven years of life, I hadn't come across anyone like her. She had stuck with me through everything, given me her love, sacrificed herself and her own happiness for me. Somebody who didn't even deserve it. But I could sense her starting to get tired early on. That's when I knew I had to make moves. We needed to get far away from Atlanta. I had to become all she had. It was the only way she would stay. And God knows I didn't wanna lose her. But I wasn't treating her the way a man should. At some point, she had become like a possession to me. Maybe it was because she was untouched before me, but I just felt like she was mine. And the thought alone of another taking my place was enough to push me over the edge. I had no idea what I would, or wouldn't, do if the shit actually happened and that scared me. I don't even know if it was in me to restrain myself anymore. 

One thing I knew for sure, I was a different guy when we first started. It was never my plan to turn into this horrible person. In fact, my goal was the opposite. I wanted to be good to her; the way she was to me. I didn't want to use my hands to cause her body harm. It wasn't my intent to employ my voice in a way that would make her feel unsafe or less than the amazing woman she was. But the ability to control those impulses was something I had long lost. All the shit she was working with could drive the soundest mind mad. She was damn near perfect. Which was why I didn't understand myself in the least. Most people would kill for what I had, and I couldn't even handle it.

“Baby, I can't leave here tomorrow with us like this.” She looked over at me, her face void of any expression. “What I gotta do?”

  Not a single solution came to mind and I had grown tired of him trying to force me to talk to him, so I got up and put my food into the microwave. I quietly left the kitchen and made my way upstairs to lie down in the bed I had been banished from and then reinvited to on many occasions. I fought so hard not to cry, but I did not win. Tears ran from my eyes like faucets as I hugged my pillow, wondering if he knew the depth of the pain he was causing me; if he even cared.

After a few short minutes, I felt his side of the bed sink behind me. I knew he would end up there. He always followed me around like a puppy when he'd done wrong. Which was the opposite of what I wanted him to do. But it always got him the result I guess he was looking for…

Once he was done fucking my brains out, I had to coax myself into not throwing up. I felt disgusting. Still, I had to make it seem as if everything was ok. Because, to him, it was.

There were many things that had changed about Cam over the years, but one that had remained the same was his ability to appease me sexually. I didn't like to admit it, but the way he used his body made me absolutely stupid. And, in knowing this, he often took advantage.

“I love you. So much,” he claimed, out of breath.

I smiled up at him, playing along with this sick game. “I love you.”

 Hours Later

We were still laid up; facing one another, legs tangled, and wrapped in each other's arms. His eyes hadn't left me once, and neither had his hand left my face. His caresses were endless and so were his kisses. When his lips weren't pressed against me, they were in my ear reciting countless I love you's. The guilt had him laying it on extra thick.

This was usually the time where I'd begin to exact my sort of revenge. For about the next week or so, I could get anything I wanted out of him. I had attained my phone, laptop, and use of one of the cars from time to time this very way. But, with this particular instance, I wasn't even interested in gaining anything. His leaving was enough for me.

“I don't wanna let you go,” he whispered, before kissing my lips for about the hundredth time. 

“You better go pack.”

“Shit, I don't even have to leave tomorrow.”

I almost frowned, but, luckily, I caught myself. He did not need to start with that shit. No way was I about to agree with him. “...I think you should,” I somehow mustered up the courage to say. He didn't reply, but the slight confusion all over his expression was enough. “Baby, it's your job. You need to go.”

“I wasn't serious. I just wish I didn't have to leave right now, you know?”

“Yeah.” I reached and put my arm up around his neck, giving him yet another kiss. A grin spread across my face after, but he didn't seem so thrilled anymore. “It’s gonna be ok, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

About another hour later, he finally left the bed and started to get his things ready. Needless to say, I was elated and it definitely showed. I didn't even bother trying to hide it. I was nothing but smiles and giggles, and this nigga had the nerve to believe it was because of him. Seriously? How could he possibly think that he had anything to do with my newfound joy? Anything!

 “It's good to see you smile again,” he told me, smiling himself. I didn't say a word. I just smiled wider, and way goofier, which only made us both laugh. “Silly girl.”

 It was almost funny how clueless he was. He would probably lose whatever morals, religion, and sanity he had left if he knew I had found so much comfort in another man. Especially one who was without a doubt more attractive than him. But that was a risk I was willing to take. O was worth it.

“You not gon' help me, though?” he asked, fake pouting, trying to persuade me. I usually did help, but tonight I was exhausted. Plus, I didn't wanna help.

 “I'm tired, boo.” Just as I finished speaking, a perfectly timed yawn followed. “See?”

 “Damn. I probably should've done this before, huh?”

 “Maybe,” I giggled, “but it's too late now.”

He laughed to himself and continued to fill his luggage as I rolled over, not worried about him or his clothes. Only one person was on my mind, and my longing would be cured in just a few hours

[headoverjojo]

Hello! If this has been asked already/makes you uncomfortable please ignore! But how would the Bucci gang react to their S/O telling them they’re pregnant?

Hello there dear! Makes me uncomfortable? I LIVE for parents stuff aaaaaa ❤️

Bruno’s gang’s reaction to their s/o’s pregnancy

(Under the cut for length!)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno and his s/o had talked about starting a family, living a quiet life -as much as they could- in a house near the sea… sometimes he indulged in such thoughts and dreams, picturing his s/o with a baby in her arms, seeing himself taking his child to the beach, teaching them how to fish, as his father did with him… sweet, innocent dreams that actually give him the strength to endure.

They, however, never seriously tried. It was always a sweet thought, a topic that sometimes came out, especially when they saw a mom or a dad with a little child. They didn’t know if they would ever be able to have a family, with their work… even if Bruno, especially, wanted a family so badly. That’s why the pregnancy was totally unexpected.

His s/o wasn’t feeling too well, in the last period. And, speaking of period, she missed it more than one time. The first month she didn’t pay attention, it was already happened, but the second time… well, suspicions started to rise. And her sickness was suspicious too. So, when the test confirmed it, she wasn’t so surprised, more… excited. A bit scared too. And not it was time to tell Bruno.

And finally the moment came. Bruno was just entered home and she was immediately here, smiling brightly and hugging him, tearing a surprised chuckle from him. He was so happy to receive a welcome like this! And then she grabbed his hand, leading him to the kitchen table: it was prepared for three. At Bruno’s question if they would have had a guest, she sweetly smiled, answering: “Well, more than a guest, it’ll be a new member of the family. They’ll be with us in nine months.” Bruno almost choked hearing such words. So she was…? They were going to be…? Her smile and the positive test she was holding were the answers he needed. He hugged her tightly, kissing her cheeks and face, with a bubbly, watery laugh, murmuring how much he was happy and what a beautiful family they were going to be. It couldn’t have done better than this.

Leone Abbacchio

When he was younger, he had dreamt about having a family, one day. Doing his dream job, finding love, having one, maybe two children… it all shattered that terrible night. His dreams and ambitions died with his partner. He didn’t want to stay near anyone, he didn’t want to bring in the darkness anyone else. It was at that point that Bruno found him.

In the gang, Abbacchio found one out three of his dreams: his s/o. He couldn’t believe it… still, they were together and she beared with him and vulnerability. She softened him. And she started to dream about having a family… but she didn’t dare to bring it up. Not yet. Abbacchio was healing… it wasn’t the right time.

She thought she had been careful. Still, even being so, there was a slight chance of failure and this is what happened to them. She got worried when she skipped her period and immediately bought a couple of tests, just to calm herself down. Just that… they were positive. Both of them. She couldn’t stop staring at the positive lines. Shit shit shit… she was screwed. She was so scared Abbacchio would be angry at her, for not being careful enough… for a little while she even thinks about hiding it. But then… it would have been unfair. They were a couple and he deserved to know the truth. So, the moment he came home, she bluntly announced her pregnancy. Saying that Abbacchio was baffled was an understatement. She was…? How?! They were careful, how…? Still, it happened. It can’t be helped… and, well… he never said it aloud, but a corner of his mind had started to graze the idea of fatherhood. Now it all seems so real… he grabs her shoulders, pressing his forehead on her, just asking her to be patient, with him, to teach him how to be a good man and a good father for their child. She can’t restrain herself from hugging him, tightly, murmuring that he was already a good person and that both would have learned together, relieved to see him reacting, well… way better than what she thought.

Guido Mista

Mista comes from a big family: even if he was a only child, he had tons of cousins who were always around, so it was like having a dozen of brothers and sisters of various ages. He loves big families! He’d really like to start a family with his s/o. He’s just waiting the right moment to bring it up! It’s a big step and he wants it to be perfect!

Not that he never talked about it with his s/o… especially because she too would like to start a family. Maybe one, two children… just not four. She doesn’t want him to die on spot! Sometimes she joked about him being already such a great dad with the Pistols, just to being said that she was practically their mom, seeing how the bullets always ran to her to be cuddled and loved!

Until the day the fantasies turned into reality. One day she found herself disgusted even by just the smell of the salame’s slices she used to give the Pistols, to her -and the bullet’s- utter dismay. What was wrong. She thought that maybe she was just sick. But seeing that this sickness wasn’t getting better -it was worsening- she booked an appointment. And her jaw almost dropped when the doctor told her she was pregnant. Really?? And now? Well- she’s happy, of course, she wanted to have a family, soon or later, but… now? Now that Mista is so busy as Giorno’s personal guard? She’s more scared from the bad timing than anything else. She knows that Mista would be ecstatic. And, to tell him, he asks the Pistols’ help -after they freaked out for the massive happiness-. They tell her things about his childhood, something that could give him some hints… in the end, she prepares his favourite dish when he was a child. When he comments with a “Ah! It was my favourite dish when I was a little brat, you know?” she replies, smiling, with a “Well, I hope it’ll be your child’s favourite dish too.” making Mista almost faint on spot. He’s immediately on her, shocked, asking if it’s true, oh shit, are they going to be a family?? Seeing the doctor’s report, he just beams in joy. He kisses her, more times, he kisses her belly too, nuzzling his face in it, promising that they’ll be so loved, cherished and protected, making his s/o almost crying on spot. It couldn’t have gone better than this…!

Narancia Ghirga

Even if now Narancia is more mature -both mentally and age wised- nor he or his s/o ever thought about starting a family. They’re young, they have time! And Narancia is climbing the ranks, neither of them have the right time to actively think about a family. Plus, Narancia wants to do things right, as Bruno always teached him, so he waits for the right moment.

But, alas, the right moment to seriously talk about their future -and possible family- never seems to come. Sometimes he is too busy with all the missions he’s assigned to, sometimes she is too tired or busy too… and they never can actually talk seriously about it. Sometimes they joke about - “Would you like a mini-me, amore?” Narancia is used to ask, making her laugh-, but again, nothing really serious.

So it was a big surprise when she started not to feel well. Narancia, even if still childish at heart, has learnt to be more observant of his surroundings and notices that his s/o is weird. They don’t eat a lot, some food she liked a lot now disgusts her -hell, she came to hate even the smell of pizza, what the damn-, she seems more tired… he’s so worried. Is she sick? But she hasn’t fever, so it’s not a flu or a cold… and she always says she’s fine and doesn’t need a doctor. Bullshit, Narancia thinks. But still, if she’s sick, Giorno could heal her. So Aerosmith’s user runs to call the friend, asking him to please check his s/o and see if Gold Experience can heal her. When Giorno arrives and uses Gold Experience on her, well… surprise! He’s baffled. He feels a little bundle of life in her! So that’s why she was sick… when he tells the couple, they’re shocked. She’s what?! For real?! Narancia doesn’t speak for a good while and his s/o, still shocked and wordless, almost fears he’s angry. But when he finally lifts his head, what that streams down his cheeks are tears of joy. He just lowers himself on her belly, kissing it, chuckling and crying, telling the baby that they really made mommy sick, eh? But that now that mom and dad know they are here, they are going to love them and properly care for them. He also ask them -and his s/o- to be patient, if he does mistakes, to teach him… his s/o can’t help but to start to cry too, hugging tightly Narancia, as Giorno slowly leaves the room, giving the two the right private time they need.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo isn’t one who loves surprises. He’s anxious and having things under control helps him to keep in control also his anxiety -and Purple Haze-, so talks about their future are common, between him and his s/o. What they’d like to do, where they’d like to live, projects, dreams… they talk about everything. Serious talks still in a relaxed atmosphere, while cuddling or when they’re home together.

Among all the topics, it came out also the children’s one. Fugo is really unsure about having kids, seeing his temper and dangerous stand, but his s/o is positive that he could be a good father, that he’s getting better and better with his anger issues too. She believes in him so much that, in the end, he decides to give it a try, with his s/o’s approval. He feels even a bit relieved, even if still agitated, now that they came to a decision.

And so they try. They want a kid and they’re going to try as much as it’s needed. Finally, after a while, his s/o starts to feel strange, like something’s off with her. Her back hurts, she has lost her appetite -or sometimes she craves for the weirdest food-… they both suspect that they finally made it. They go together to buy a pregnancy test -she needed his support right now- and they wait together, holding hands, as the test slowly turns positive. They’re both shocked -they hoped, but daring to think it would have turned out true? Not yet-, but soon a laugh bubbles on Fugo’s lips, as few tears escape his control. His beloved s/o is pregnant!! They did it!! He never thought he’d be so happy about it, seeing his visceral fear, but now he can just thinks about the so wanted and waited little bundle of life that is nestled in his s/o’s belly, safe… he kisses his s/o’s face, thanking her, thanking her so much, for being here, for wanting a child with him, before bending on her belly, pressing his forehead on it and caressing it, with another broken laugh. He tells them how much they waited for them, that they’re going to be loved, he promises he’ll do his best to be a good dad for them, the dad they deserve, not to make his parents’ mistakes… His s/o can just caress his hair while crying, softened and moved by his sincere words. Trying so much, in the end, had been really worth.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno never had a real family, but he’d really like to have one, in future. Now that his dream had been achieved and he’s the respected Don of Passione, he can think about the future. He was lucky enough to meet his wonderful s/o, the woman he loves with all his might, the gang’s doing well, so… he really starts to think about future. A future with his s/o.

Even if Giorno is a damn busy man, he always finds the time to stay with his s/o and, when they’re together, they talk about their projects. Giorno loves to hear about her plans, her dreams, while gently caressing her back. He almost chokes when she confess she’d like a child, one day… but, thinking seriously about it, Giorno finds himself desiring it too. He knows well he’ll not be a horrible parent like his mom or step dad, so… he’d like to try to have a child. He’s more than sure.

They both know that having a child is a great responsibility, so, while they try, they also make plans for after the birth. How to make them live a serene life, keeping them far from the darkness of mafia, how to equally divide the duties -and sharing the funny moments-, how to organize Giorno’s Don life… and, while they plan, it finally happens. His s/o skips her period once, two times. It’s suspicious. A test confirms it: she’s pregnant. She runs to Giorno’s office, not even knocking -she knows what she can and can’t do, and storming in his office for a so important news is a thing she can do- and, if no one is present, she immediately goes to hug him tightly, to his utter dismay. What happened? Not that he dislikes sudden cuddles- but why? Then he finally understands when she takes his hands to place them on her belly. She’s pregnant!! Giorno instinctively calls out Gold Experience to check and here it is, a small bundle of life. He’s…overwhelmed. He’s going to be a dad. They’re going to be a… a family. It all is so real, now. He just presses his face on her belly, silent, letting her gently caress his hair, while he silently cry. He’s so happy he doesn’t know how to express it if not with sincere tears of happiness. He promises once more he’s going to be a good dad, he’s going to be present and he’ll keep them safe. He can’t wait for when he’ll meet them for real… for now, he just enjoy the overwhelming feeling of knowing he’s going to be father.

[drkcnry67]

title: when you call my name

inspired by: When You call My Name by Paul Brandt

pairing: Jensen x reader

Kink 2020 sq: free space (voice kink)

Fluff 2020 sq: realized feelings

rating: pg

tags: fluffy romance, jensen singing, feelings coming out through song, lots and lots of flirtation…

summery: not telling!

word count (optional):

Kink 2020 Masterlist. Fluff 2020 masterlist

Love is a beautiful thing, very few ever truly embrace it. This is the story of how you went from being an assistant to one of the most eligible bachelor’s in the entire continental USA to being the love of his life.

——————————-

twas a beautiful summer morning, this be the morn that you and Jensen were to go for your normal summer routines…  taking in every single day one at a time.. arriving at his hotel room, you knock twice before using the key card…

you entered, upon doing so you hear Jensen strumming his guitar…

YN: “that sounds different from your usual cheerful strumming…”

Jensen: “its just something new im working on, ready to go on that run?“

YN: “i have a better idea.. lowkey parkor in the park… its better than running our usual half a mile and it still gets us our exercise… then breakfast and normal routine…”

Jensen finished putting his guitar down and smiled as he grabbed his vest and duffle.. following you out the door… going down to valet parking to your car… getting in you drive to the park…

Ah the sweet sights of the park… the fave place to hang out go for runs or just walk… in your case you loved to come out here and do low key parkour off the small skate ramps.

Jensen: “what else do we have planned today?”

YN: “we have to be at the studio to do some scenes obvs.. then after that well it is wednesday and we usually go to song night but if you…”

Jensen: “are you kidding me i look forward to it every single week… now where is our parkour course…”

You stop at the edge of the small skate park… Jensen stops and looks…

Jensen: “how exactly are we supposed to do parkour off of this?”

You back flip off of the edge and land in several flips off of the next few ledges… Jensen was right behind you… Following you was one of his greatest adventures.

Unbeknown to you, Jensen was falling in love with you… You were completely un aware of it… He planned to tell you at song night through his latest song… after the course you stopped at the fountain, leaning over you take a long swig of water…

Jensen stays back catching his breath but also catching a secret look at you… he was so sure of his feelings, he knew that he would be the luckiest man in the world if you felt the same way…

Jensen approached you from behind…

Jensen: “wear something pretty tonight I have a good feeling about tonight…”

YN: “i have my outfit picked out already… i know you are gonna rock the house tonight you always do… what are you singing tonight?”

Jensen: “something new… dont worry you are gonna love it… now lets go back to the car and get to the studio im sure they will be missing us…”

it was true they were missing you because you guys were now 10 minutes late… neither of you had realized it, because you both had been starring into eachothers eyes for the past almost half hour…

YN: “we should go… but your eyes are so handsome!!!”

Jensen: “your eyes melt my heart your the reason why i have a fantastic career…”

YN: “i dont want to leave your eyes!”

Jensen: “you’ve always had them on you…”

you turn away as both of you begin to walk towards the car, the silence was nice cause both of you knew what had been said, what was said and what soon to be would be if timing was right…

driving to the studio you and Jensen stop at the trailer to change and get ready to face the people… stepping out of the trailer, you both run onto set… 

Kripke: “you both are very very late.. explain one of you…”

Jensen: “we left kinda late for our morning run… we had to make up the time that we missed… but we are here now lets get the filming done…”

kripke: “alright everyone places now that everyone is here lets film what is planned for today and we will call it a day…”

jensen went and did his thing, he as always had you sit in his chair that way he could catch glimpses of your beautiful face when he could.. cause if the script said “look backwards” you were the one thing he was looking at… 

the filming time lasted several hours, it was 430pm by the time you and Jensen got out of the studio… wrapping up the time there by getting in the car and going back to the hotel, you both go inside and up to the rooms… 

Jensen: “what time does it start?”

YN: “at 7pm but that will only give us time to get ready…”

Jensen: “plus i believe its my turn to cook tonight…”

you nod…

YN: “ill be back with my stuff and my appetite…”

Jensen: “just let yourself in when you arrive… ill be waiting…”

with those words you both were in your respective rooms… you went to pick an outfit… you had no idea what the hell even to wear… then you saw it… the brand new in the bag off the shoulder striped romper you had been saving for a special occasion…

you stuck that in your bag, and decided that you would take a shower before you had to be across the hall… you stuck on your playlist and went into the shower you washed, shaved and clensed your body… head to toe you now were very clean… 

you got out of the shower and smiled, you now had a really good feeling about tonight… you now were the one with which the good feelings and butterflies were rollin’…

Jensen however was picking out his outfit as well as throwing some pork chops in the oven then went to take a shower so he could be fresh for your arrival and outing tonight…

before he got in the shower he sent you a sweet flirty text sounded like something out of a romance novel… you blushed upon reading it… you knew what was through your mind…

YN (to self): “nah nah thats crazy he is a amazing friend he cant be in love with me…”

Jensen (to self): “she is amazing!!! i hope she understands what im saying through this song tonight…”

you gathered what you needed from your place before heading across the way, you used your key just letting yourself in like usual… you dont see Jensen but you hear the shower and you hear him singing…

you think of how amazing it is to hear Jensen singing… enjoying the song so much you now were putting on your outfit… about halfway into putting it on you heard the shower turn off… you knew Jensen had to dry off get dressed and such still so you hoped to still be somewhat decent…

that of course is when your zipper got stuck… Jensen who was just coming out of the bedroom having just put on his khakis and muscle shirt saw you struggling…

Jensen: “you need some help…”

YN: “i decided to get ready but i wasnt expecting my zipper to get stuck… can you help me?”

Jensen: “of course… now hold still…”

Jensen came up behind you, his hands on your back trying to fight with the zipper, after 5 minutes the zipper went up.. 

Jensen: “there all done… you look amazing…”

YN: “you said something pretty… this was sitting in my closet this is the first time im wearing it anywhere…”

Jensen: “well it looks smashing on you… dinner will be ready soon… we will be having pork chops as well as some instant potatoes… i didnt think you would mind..”

You shake your head…

YN: “nope i dont mind… im so excited for tonight… i cant wait to hear that new song you have been working on…”

Jensen finishes preparing dinner, you finish doing your hair putting in your hair band and then going over to sit in the kitchen…

jensen: “your thinking again… arent you?” 

 you nod as you continue to stare at Jensen who turns to face you… he notices the sparkle in your eye and he smiles… he then puts on a slow song.. he comes up to you and reaches for your hand…

 jensen: “when was the last time we danced…” 

 you take his hand and walk out in the middle of the living room with Jensen who is happily gliding across the floor with you… both of you are disturbed a few moments later by the dinner timer going off… 

You were in a blushing fluster when you guys stopped dancing. It felt like nothing was changing between the both of you. This felt completely normal. Jensen and you sat down to eat dinner, the giggling and harmless shameful flirting came now from both of you. 

Neither if you realizing it, neither of you acknowledge it, cause this felt absolutely one hundred percent normal… 

Jensen: “I am ready to own the night… How bout you mi'lady?" 

Yn: "yep and your guitar is still in the car so let’s go my good sir!" 

Walking to the car you both smiling like mindless love struck idiots, you let Jensen who insisted on driving open your door for you and smiled when he had his arm around your shoulder while he drove… 

parking the car he came round to help you bring everything out of the car… the way things were looking for tonight you might be happy by the end of things...

Of all the nights to break out a new outfit you are certainly glad you chose this one... It was once said your love would come out in the open when you least expected it... 

This is what you had been waiting for... Entering the lounge you put Jensen's name on the sheet of performers, Jensen orders you both drinks... sitting at a quaint little table near the stage you and Jensen prepare for the night of your lives. 

YN: “this is amazing evening so far... we are doing what we love and we are doing everything exactly how it should be...”

Jensen: “i can’t wait to sing this new song. you are gonna love it... or at least i hope you do...”

You place a hand on Jensen’s slightly tightening your grip...

Yn: “i know i’ll love it... if its anything like your other songs i know ill love it...”

Jensen’s eyes brought a small swoon from your lips, the only person who caught that swoon was Jensen and he just smiled... his only thoughts were of how good it would feel to wake up next to you every single damn day...

your only thoughts were of how good it would be to just plant a kiss to Jensen’s lips and to sleep next to him every single night for the rest of your lives... Jensen placed his hands on your shoulders, you weren’t startled but you instead had lots of happy feelings in you... 

Jensen: “im so excited to play up there tonight... but most importantly im just happy to be here once more with you...”

YN: “im happy to be here with you too... i propose a toast to you, may tonights performance bring about many many more nights exactly like this one and may tonight be ever in our favor...”

Jensen: “wise words from a sexy and beautiful woman!”

you look at him and smile deeply...

YN: “sexy eh... hmm how bout you let me help you put on your guitar strap tonight handsome?”

just as you finished saying that last word, yours and Jensen’s ears caught wind of the announcer that evening...

Announcer: “good evening and welcome to another performance night... tonight our first performer usually doing a duet with his special lady friend tonight performs by himself something brand new tonight give it up for Jensen Ackles...”

the crowd went wild as you finished helping Jensen do up his guitar strap... he walked up on stage and sat on the stool.

Jensen: “tonight i dedicate this song to a woman who has helped me day in and day out with my entire life & daily schedule... this is for you YN i wouldnt be who i am wthout you...”

he started strumming his guitar the room went silent and all you could hear was the sound of his guitar and then his voice...

Jensen (singing): “give me a moment to try to explain it and how it has changed the man that i am, life has a way when you try to arrange it of making a fool of the best laid plans. guess what i’m tryin to say, is that you took me by surprise. one word is all that it takes, and forever’s on my mind it happens every time...”

thats when you stood up you were beginning to realize what he was saying... but you locked eyes with him as he continued singing...

Jensen (singing): “i hear the sweetest sound, my world stops turnin round, like i’m on holy ground when you call my name. it sets the sky on fire, burnin with my desire, stronger deeper higher when you call my name..”

you made your way to the stairs to go up on stage... you knew if anything he had been expecting this... but he continued singing and now you were standing beside him and he just continued through the last bit of the second verse...

Jensen(singing): “when you call my name, angels start singing most beautiful sound that i ever heard. and it starts all over again, this feeling deep inside, a blessed chain of events, a heaven set design it happens every i Love you YN...”

you stood there now in shock as Jensen stood up moving his guitar from in front of him and pulling you close he kisses you the crowd erupts in a roar of applause... 

Jensen: “sorry guys about the song interruption, i guess hey now is as good a time as any to make the announcement... YN i love you, i have loved you forever... this is how i want to spend every single week, of every single month of every single year with you... for the past 5 years now you and i have made a solid team of assistant and celebrity but now i feel like its time to skip one step and dive straight into another...”

Jensen places his guitar on the stand and pulls a small box out of his back pocket and gets down on one knee he opens the box as he continues speaking...

Jensen: “YN will you take this ring and make me the luckiest man on the earth and marry me?”

the ring was a 14k rose gold petite twist vine diamond ring... you nodded your head and smiled...

YN: “yes Jensen Yes Yes Yes!!!!”

Jensen slid that ring on your finger and spun you around, kissing you as both of you walked off the stage and spent the rest of the night in peaceful, happy bliss...