#I’m tired of this Ethan has no personality shit!!! people died in front of him his mentor BETRAYED HIM

[saltyfilmmajor]

Look at how they’re treating my boy!!!

[thefanficmonster]

Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

                                                               *  *  *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

If you could change ten things about Teen Wolf what would you change??

OMG BUCKLE DOWN BECAUSE IT’S GONNA BE A LONG ONE! Do asks have a word limit? Guess we gonna find out! (Sometimes I wish I could speak these replies, they sound much funnier when I am speaking out loud to myself and then they are just weird and flat typed up but I DIGRESS! I do that a lot, have you noticed? Doesn’t matter.)

(Also, I did put a “Keep Reading” but for some reason it’s not working. Or it’s not showing as working on my end. But it’s right under this paragraph I swear so if it’s not working, that isn’t on me....)

1) SO! Trauma. People be dealing with their traumas. That’d be a thing I’d like, thank you. Like, I’m sorry, but there is a fuckton of trauma in this show and everyone like, goes to bed at night and wakes up cured. Like MAGIC! I mean, yes, I get that magic is a thing in the show (is it? I mean kind of? Idk, I never saw past season 4, they alluded to magic and then SNATCHED THAT AWAY so, side-note, that’s coming up later!) But yes, I would’ve very much liked for people to, you know, deal with their traumas in a realistic fashion. Let’s get some therapy going, or like, idk, some actual negative reactions to thing! They kind of had that with Stiles every now and then, but he seemed to be up and down episode to episode so like, it’d be like they wrote an episode where he reacts to what happened to him and then four episodes have gone by where he’s fine and the writers were like “OH YEAH SHIT HE JUST MURDERED LIKE A WHOLE HOSPITAL, make him have a panic attack randomly over dropping milk, that balances out, excellent, we’re so smart.” So yes. DEAL. WITH. THE. TRAUMA! Thanks.

2) LESS CHARACTERS, MORE DEVELOPMENT! I mentioned this in another recent ask about relationships but like, they just kept shoving characters in there. Like one of those clown cars. So we got like, 30% character development on the core group and then the rest was like “wait, who are you again?” Like, legit, I have a bad memory, you put too many people in front of me, I ain’t gonna remember them unless they have a good personality or a reason to be there. And like, develop their relationships! Not even romantically, but like, Scott’s mom loves Scott, that is sweet and lovely, but like, we never really… see… that… developed? Idk man, like again, I have a bad memory, but when you really develop relationships WELL (ex: Brooklyn-nine-nine), that shit sticks with you and you CARE about people. The friendships are important, and the familial relationships are important and just developing all the dynamics is important! They spent more time showcasing how much everyone hated each other and lied to each other and stuff and that just got really tiring. Yes, you’re allowed to get mad at your friends, but if you’re a Werewolf, and your human friend is calling you when there is a fucking monster running around killing people, can you maybe stop making out with your girlfriend and answer your phone so your friend isn’t treading water with a 200+ pound Werewolf for 2 hours? Like, JUST SAYING! (Spoiler alert: Me and Scott would not be close friends. Like, I think we’d be friends, but not so much that I’d trust him with my life. If I wanted to grab pizza and a movie, maybe play some video games, he sounds like a treat, but if my life was in danger, thanks I be callin’ someone who answers their phone).

3) Actual consequences for their actions! Okay like, I am also guilty of this in fanfic, but at the same time, my writing is free, I don’t get paid for it, and I write what I want because that’s how it works, so I can do whatever I please (If I wanna make the Hales royalty for the millionth time, ain’t nobody gonna stop me!). But like, when you are a legit paid screenwriter who is writing a show? Consequences! Just because it’s a show about Werewolves doesn’t mean there can’t be any consequences! Like, the best scene, and I feel like we can agree, because fuck it like, hurt my soul and my heart and I was just so like ;~; was when the sheriff got fired (fired? suspended? TEMPORARILY UNEMPLOYED!) because Stiles stole a police van when they locked Jackson up in it. Like, that shit was REAL LIFE CONSEQUENCES for actions, and that shit was intense and it HURT and omg I loved it! Give me more of that! Like, I’m sorry, but you gonna tell me Nogistune!Stiles walked through the hospital murdering a bazillion people and not one camera was working the whole time? Not one? Nobody saw that? Nobody went “hey, isn’t that the sheriff’s kid?” Like, CAN. YOU. IMAGINE?! That would’ve been so amazing, a bunch of episodes of the pack scrambling to keep the Supernatural a secret while also trying to stop Stiles from GETTING ARRESTED because saying “Sorry ma’am, I was possessed by a demon fox who likes chaos and thought murdering a bunch of people would be fun” ain’t gonna fly in court and the FBI sure isn’t gonna believe that but like, UGH! Again, bad memory, but was the fact that Dark!Stiles wandered through the hospital killing people EVER brought up again???? CONSEQUENCES. Woulda really liked that.

4) STOP with unnecessary romances. Like, yeah, I get it, the allos like their romances, but shockingly, you can still have a good show without focussing on the romance. Like, it can be there, I’m not saying don’t put it in, I’m saying DON’T MAKE IT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! Like, the entirety of season one was Scott chasing Allison and Stiles chasing Lydia. This… this does not make an interesting show? Like, is that just me? And then as the season progressed, EVERYONE had to be in a relationship? WHY? Again, haven’t seen past season four, but I mean, I know Scott and Kira were a thing, and then Stiles and Malia, and Liam and some… person? Idk. And Ethan and Danny (congrats Jeff, you get to tick your “I had representation in my show!” box, well done, gold star, or whatever). And Isaac and Allison, and Melissa and Chris (apparently?). And then Stydia was alluded as being canon, and Scott ended up with Malia somehow?? And Derek slept with half the town and all of Mexico, idek. Like, stop it. Stop. Shows work without everything being about everyone banging each other. (See again: Brooklyn-nine-nine, or Avatar the Last Airbender, or The Good Place, or even fucking Supernatural!) You can have a good, interesting story without everyone banging each other. It ain’t necessary.

5) More actual storytelling (again, this woulda worked better without the unnecessary romances taking up 49 of the 50 minutes of air-time). Like, yes, I get it, pilot’s gotta have some pizzaz! Gotta be spicy and sparkly to make people interested (and like, fucking hell, all I can remember of the pilot is sobbing Allison soaking wet–LIKE, WAS THAT NECESSARY???–about the dog she hit and oh noes is it dead well thank God the lead character works for a vet! And somehow has keys and access to the whole clinic like nbd at all hours? Whatever. I wasn’t even allowed inside my blockbuster as a shift lead if it was off-hours but apparently a high school student doing paperwork at a vet clinic is different, I’m not a vet so what do I know? I HAD A BAD DAY OKAY, I GOT FEELINGS ABOUT THIS RN!) I went off-topic, what was I saying? Oh yes, storytelling. You know what woulda been nice? Werewolves! It happens, we find out about Laura, we find out about Werewolves, Scott gets bitten, all that jazz. And then like… ease in the Hunters? Like, why was there Laura/Derek, Peter, AND the Hunters all crammed into the pilot? Yes, I get it, you need the SUSPENSE and the DRAMA, but you can do that without the Hunters right off the bat. Just, how CONVENIENT~ that the same day Derek and Laura come back, Hunters move to town? That’s just lazy, and again, I can be guilty of laziness, I admit to it, but I literally get paid in—like, do hearts count? I get paid in hearts and pats on the back for my fics, I can write whatever I want. If you’re getting paid to write something, try a bit harder, yes? Yes???

What number am I on? Oh good Lord, I got things to say, okay.

6) MAGIC! Can you like—I feel like this one is self-explanatory. Stiles did the whole mountain ash thing in season one, and it was SO PROMISING, and then that just died. It died like Maes Hughes getting shot in a phonebooth (spoiler, but really, you haven’t seen that yet, that’s a you problem). Why even bother introducing magic if you weren’t gonna use it? Like, was it because people like Stiles more than Scott and the showrunner was like “nonono. If we make him magic, he’s TOO cool, and then Scott is unimportant.” I mean, you coulda worked that in your favour, but no. You just murdered the fuck out of it, like straight up took it out back and shot it. Like, yeah, Derek went kiddo again and Jennifer was apparently all magic beauty spell or whatever, but like?? That’s it??? You had a show about Werewolves and you didn’t even try to make it more interesting by making some of the characters magic? Lydia’s basically the closest and they didn’t even explain her powers that well. Magic would’ve been dope and they totally shoved that to the side. That was dumb. Shoulda done something with that.

7) Explain things more? Don’t mention them once and then do nothing? Like, we got some brief stuff about anchors, and emissaries (which are super duper secret according to Deaton but then like, EVERYONE KNOWS HE IS EMISSARY SO WHICH IS IT DEATON? YOU TELL ME!) Like, they had so much opportunity to talk about so many things and again, maybe that comes out more in the later seasons, idk, but they likely coulda done with more explanations and they didn’t and this angers me GREATLY. They mention something once and then it never comes up again. That’s some Lost bullshit right there. Don’t start something if you’re not gonna commit. You tell me the beginning of the story, I wanna fucking know the end, don’t forget halfway through and wander away, that ain’t right, I NEED ANSWERS JEFF! And like, as above, never really got Lydia’s powers. I know what a Banshee is, but her powers did NOT make sense to me. Idk, could just be that I’m dumb, but similarly, don’t write something so convoluted that it confuses people, that is also dumb. As dumb as I am so like, well done there. And also do we get more on Parrish? I know he’s a Hellhound, but how does one get born a Hellhound and not know until you are conveniently lit on fire by someone trying to kill you for money? (Also, you bean, you absolute treasure, “I’m worth five dollars?” You’re so cute. Silly child.) I feel like being a Hellhound is something that woulda come up before getting barbecued in his cruiser. Like, he works a stressful job, you gonna tell me not ONCE while getting shot at he didn’t have a massive heart attack over a close call and like, burst into flames? No? Is that just a me thing? I feel like the slightest annoyance and I’d be fully on fire, not gonna lie. (I’d be on fire a LOT… CLEARLY I AM AN ANGRY PERSON! No, that’s not true. No yes it is, I am angry, but more angry lately because I’m sleep-deprived and work is dumb ANYWAY back to this)

8) EMBRACE THE SIDE CHARACTERS! Okay, so MAYBE Scott is meant to be the golden child. The Dick Grayson of the show, if you will. The original Robin, the creme de la creme. That’s all fine and dandy if he is, no judgement (little judgement), but you know what you don’t do when your side characters are getting a lot of attention and love? What you DO NOT do is give them less screen time. Because then you’re being petty and, shockingly, you get more positive results when you give the fans what they want. I’m not talking about pairings, because everyone is different, and you can’t cater to everyone, but like, the more people moved away from liking Scott, the harder the showrunners pushed him into our faces. And like, that isn’t how this works. If I like side character 87 a lot, and the lead’s getting annoying, you know what’s gonna make me NOT watch the show? Cutting out side character 87 (hey, for shits and gigs, let’s call him DANNY, just, not coincidentally at all) and then just shoving the lead into my face. That is what makes someone go “Well, four seasons is enough, I can happily live knowing I didn’t waste my life watching two more of them.” Like??? I’m not saying cut out Scott, because the show is ABOUT Scott, but the more everyone tried to showcase how amazing and wonderful and pure and perfect he was, the more annoying it got? Like, Scott has flaws. THEY ALL HAVE FLAWS! If you don’t admit that they all have flaws, it gets boring, and you hate the characters. I know that Scott turned into a douche later (apparently, again, haven’t seen it), but even in the early seasons by trying to make him this pure True Alpha golden angel child who spreads love and hope and trusts everyone, it just got boring. He was vanilla, and also a bad friend, because he was too “perfect” to be around someone “imperfect” like Stiles, and even like, the rest of the pack overall. He was always put on a pedestal and it made the show really… irksome? Idk, I just feel like yes, SCOTT is the Teen Wolf, but you added all these damn side characters, maybe use them a bit more? At least Stiles was interesting, and Lydia was fucking badass, and fucking hell, if you’d done right by Boyd and Erica, the actors wouldn’t have left for better shows so like, come on man, you coulda done better. We coulda had such a dope show, why you gotta crush my dreams like that Jeff? What did I ever do to you?

I know this is only eight, but this is long enough, if I go two more, this is gonna be IN.SANE. And also it’s late and I haven’t finished my fic for the day (I mean, I’m almost done, but I’m not done yet!) So like, I’ma stop here. But yes, hopefully this answered your question. Sorry I got REALLY PASSIONATE about it but it’s been a day.

Also, I feel this needs to be said, but obviously these are my own personal opinions, and as opinions, you are not obligated to agree with them. But you are also not allowed to tell me my opinion is wrong. You can disagree with it, but this is an opinion, not a law, so there is no right and wrong. Don’t @ me, my day’s been bad enough kthx!

HAVE A GOOD NIGHT, BE BACK IN LIKE TWENTY(?) MINUTES!

[vinylhazza]

28 w/ e 💖💖💖

prompt list

28. they ask you to pretend to be their date at a bar to prevent an ex from talking to them. 

being dragged to a bar was the one thing you wanted to happen after a long day at work. granted, it was a friday and it was a day most people chose to ‘go out on the town’ or let loose - but all you desired at the moment was a nice glass of your favorite pear red wine,  your newest book you’d purchased at the local bookstore, and your sweet kitty egypt. she must have been so worried when you didn’t come home. that thought alone made you want to ditch the uncomfortable heels and fake smile you wore. 

you’d left work, drove directly to your good friends house, and begrudgingly gotten ready in front of her tiny bathroom mirror. you’d stuffed a black dress into your purse before leaving the house that morning, knowing something ridiculous like this would happen, but hoping it wouldn’t. thankfully she had makeup and a curling iron she let you use so you weren’t walking into a bar with a bun similar to a librarian (you know the one). it was all you had to work with - so you would be surprised if you didn’t look like the total train wreck you felt like.  

the bar well, it was packed. you’d stumbled in with linked arms, your friend trotting off somewhere into the sea of dancing bodies promises she’d “be right back.” fat chance. you’d shot up some conversation with a mutual friend, something about an ex who knew a guy that could possibly get her a new car, something that you weren’t interested in in the slightest. but of course, because the kind person you were, you watched your friend disappear into the crowd and off to discuss the details of their little financial exchange - leaving you to your own lonely devices.

with a pout you make your way over to the bar, making sure to not make any unwaranted eye contact with any of the other people that had the same idea as you - hoisting yourself up into a tall barstool that feels like a feat in itself to get into, but in no time you’re seated firmly on the stiff maroon cushion - browsing the rows and rows boose behind the counter. you weren’t much of a “whiskey on the rocks” type of girl - really a mixed drink type of gal. the simplest drink you’d get is a Manhattan - which sounded best right now. if you’re going to be alone for a while, the least you could do is make sure you’re relaxed - which you definitely weren’t at the moment.

“just a Manhattan please,” you tell the middle aged bartender, not quite sure if you’re using the right word for what you want, but he nods without hesitation, turning to the shelves of alcohol on the back wall - taking down a bottle and a clear drinking glass. a sigh ripples through your chest and oozes out of your mouth.

why did i think this was a good idea? you wine to yourself, all alone in a bar on the opposite side of town. somewhere you didn’t want to be, never would want to be, and only made your appearance because of your friend that is off somewhere with a friend probably much more outgoing than you. you envisioned her as a “fly by the seat of your pants” type of person - something you envied.

but instead of sulking to yourself, you decided you’d simply enjoy your drink. that’s all you had to do, look at the light at the end of the very shitty tunnel that was your day. yeah, you’d been yelled at by a customer for something that was not and would never be your fault. yes, you’d shed a tear or two in the back room because your grandma of 92 years of age buttdialed you on break thinking in was your grandma that died two years ago. yes, your feet were blistering from the heels you bought from a website that swore on everything they had the comfiest shoes around. yes, your day was shit. it was utter shit - but it had to get better right?

just as the bartender slides the glass across the slick wooden counter - a dashing boy with a head full of dark hair is leaning over you with a frazzled expression, nervousness seeping from his every nerve. he was...very attractive. it took your breath away for a moment, if you’re being honest. his hand rests on the counter right by your own that stopped the glass at the last minute - thanking the good Lord above you didn’t have to hassle with a mess of alcohol on the floor.

“please tell me you’re not here with a date or something,” the boy states, baritone voice melodic over the loud music. it was more of a plead than anything.

after your initial shock of being bothered after your attempt at being invisible, you’re shaking your head nervously, glancing around you to see who he’s watching out for all worried and anxious - just to be on the lookout so you don’t get yourself into a dangerous situation - you were scared you’re teetering that line right now anyhow.

“uh no no, no date but my friend is just over there-“ your finger points off in the general direction where she disappeared into the crowd earlier in the night, hoping she was at least in the same general area.

“then do me a favor and act like i said something funny,” he interjects quickly, scraping another barstool across the floor to sit right beside you, his arm leaning on the counter with a forced grin - visibly trying to prove something to someone.

but you give in. of course you do, who are you to mess up someone’s desperately thrown together plan of looking put together when they’re actually falling apart? you take a sip from your drink with a nod, setting it neatly on the counter before you’re laughing. and oh my gosh were you laughing - just really putting on a show.

it’s something that floods from you, like a river raging through you and you don’t even know where the water came from. he’s a stranger, you don’t owe him any favors - not a one. yet you find yourself complying to sudden request to laugh - that’s all. that’s all he’d asked of you.

the devilishly attractive boy is watching you close, with this playful glint in his eye that just keeps growing as the laughter bubbles from you - your hand raising to grab at his arm to seal the deal. you hope that whoever is watching, whatever relation he may have to them, that they believe your little facade. you have 0 clue why you are laughing with a handsome stranger in a bar after a fucked day while drinking a cocktail you don’t even care about anymore - but it felt good to laugh. even if it was fake and you looked crazy to the lingering eyes around you.

“what am i laughing at exactly?...” you stutter with a sigh and a tired smile, wiping a fake tear from your eye in an attempt to look the most joyful you’ve been in a while.

“ethan - uh ethan dolan,” he offers up his name. such a lovely name. very fitting for him as well, “and it’s just eh...you see that girl over there in the red?” he bends over to talk by your ear, not wanting whoever it is to see him being so polite with someone he’s meant to look close with.

glancing over your shoulder seemed like the worst idea in history, there were so many options for how it could go: lock eyes like the suspect, look around and find her to be a godess among men and women - totally out of your league, or simply mistake her for the wrong person. but when your head does turn, just the slightest bit, you see her. in a knee-length sundress fit for a bar - sort of on the skimpy side but still modest enough to not look too desperate. you approved. she looked like a lovely girl. that is, until her head of blonde hair whips to your direction, a glare shooting straight from her glasses framed eyes.

you snap your gaze away just as quickly, knowing it’s a fight you didn’t want any part of. you had no interest in being “the other woman.”

you’re nodding back at him with a frown, not sure why you feel this strange vibe eminating from that girl across the bar - but you don’t like it.

but - oh. oh. he’s looking at you still, observing you watch his evil ex try to seduce him back with her swaying hips across some mans bulge. but here he is, having all eyes for you. stop looking at me. wait don’t stop.

let’s just say it’s been...a while since a man has looked in your direction. you were of course not the shy type exactly - but right on the cusp. you observed the room. you made yourself noticeable that in case anyone would talk to you, you’d be the one they’d lean over to, to make their comment. but you could also make yourself as invisible as you pleased - and you’d thougt you’d done a good job tonight. but obviously with ethan sitting here looking at you, you didn’t succeed.

it’s spilling from your mouth before you could stop it, “she doesn’t really seem like your type.”

and you think for a moment , from the raising of his right eyebrow, that he’s angry. that you’d pressed a button somewhere under his dashing exterior. but then - he’s laughing. really laughing. it’s like a zap of lightening inside you, stirring up something that hasn’t been touched for years.

“and what do you think ‘my type’ is?” ethan firing back with a low tone, smiling so deviously. is he flirting?

“i’m not sure, but i know it isn’t her.” and it’s bold - to say such a thing about a person you don’t even know. maybe it’s the night you’ve had, or the fact that he’s already made you feel a sense of comfort, but you find yourself being the most honest in the moment.

he gives a nod, a simple bob of his head while still keeping those gorgeous eyes plastered on your face - waiting for something - you’re not sure what until he runs a hand through his hair and finally lets his thoughts spill out in a nervous jumble of words.

“she doesn’t give up easy that’s for sure. she’s been harassing me for a couple weeks and i can’t get her to stop and...” he’s thinking carefully, “...i uh...was hoping maybe you would be willing to maybe act like this is something like a date? just so she won’t try anything.”

“you don’t have your friends with you? you’re here alone?” you make it a point before you agree, just confused why he’s asking something so random and so elaborate. if you don’t look the part, she won’t believe a thing. girls are observant that way.

“my brother is here somewhere - i’m not sure i lost him but - are you in or not?”

and you think for a minute, lookin back over your shoulder to the door, wondering if you left right now - just grabbed your friend and went home like you had planned all day - how much you would regret it. it was simple really. in or out?

his leg bounces under the table, anxious with every minute that passes, feeling her eyes searing through his skin across the room - waiting for her moment to pounce. please say yes please just say yes.

it’s not that big of a deal right? pretend and you won’t see him again and you can go back to your normal, boring excuse of a life right? just this once?

“okay,” you smile brightly, tilting your head back and downing the last bit of your drink, setting the glass on the counter firmly with a smack, “i’m in.”

and you don’t know it - after what seemed like minutes but was actually close to an hour and half sitting there leaning into him, engaged in this little game of yours - that the same girl you’re putting on a show for had left that bar. got in her car, admitted defeat , and left. you’d been so caught up in talking to ethan about nonsense: laughing, talking, singing ridiculous songs that played over the speakers - that you hardly remembered it was fake.

it was only when you’re friend came up to tap your arm that you were pulled back down to reality. you’d been floating somewhere off in space with this high happiness that washed over you just talking to someone so freely. ethan was easy to talk to. even when you’re yelling over loud music.

and it shocked you to your core that as you got up from your seat, tripping just a bit to try and follow your friend, that ethan grabbed at your arm - a nervous expression crossing his face at the sight of you leaving. he was just having so much fun for once, never having felt so comfortable and safe with a girl he just met before.

“look uh, i know this is really random but uh...would it be okay for me to see you again?” he’s fumbling, hand still on your arm - so warm.

he’s standing now, and you realize just how tall he is. and your friend, still confused, but smirking behind you, nudges at your back with your silence. you wanted that. of course you did. but what would change if you said yes? what kind of trust would you have to put in him for just a chance at something wonderful?

before you can think too hard of the outcome of something that hasn’t even happened yet, your hand dives into the black abyss of your purse - pulling out a ripped piece of paper and a pen - jotting down seven digits that he would soon use to talk to you for hours upon hours - the same number he would call one lazy sunday afternoon, missing you, just to tell you how much he loves you. you write down those numbers and leave a little heart at the end. handing it to him felt like freedom. something inside you screamed that you shouldn’t be afraid - that you didn’t have to be afraid of ethan. even if it was terrifying to start again, start over, try to let yourself be vulnerable - you had a feeling this was a good idea.

“don’t wait to long,” you leaned in to tell him, placing the sweetest of kisses right to the apple of his blushing cheek, all while tucking the frayed piece of paper into his hand securely. his heart was racing - oh God was it racing and - what was he worried about his ex for? he watched you saunter away from him, smile lighting up your face, hips swaying just the right way, your arm linked with your friend. he doesn’t even jump when a plastered grayson slaps his hand onto his shoulder - where he stares at the door you disappeared in and out to the night - off and ready to steal his heart. he didn’t flinch when graysons sour attitude tried to interrupt the weird high he felt after your lips landed on his skin. he didn’t let it bother him because fuck - he was totally enamored by you.

don’t wait too long don’t wait too long don’t wait too long

and you better believe when i tell you he didn’t.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

pjo for any mix of 2, 5, 8, 14, 19, 20, and/or 21?

I have a bunch of asks for this meme but I have finally seen MY BOY again in Son of Neptune and I missed him desperately, so.

2) Emotional/moral weak spots

Percy “let the world burn to save a friend” Jackson’s emotional weak spot--his Achilles heel, if you will--is always the people around him.  Not always just friends, either.  Anyone he thinks of as his responsibility will qualify, from his civilian parents to his camp rivals to outright enemies (Ethan Nakamura, anyone?).  He’s good at muscling through it, at bearing up and fighting on, but deep down he’s still a twelve-year-old kid who’s risking his life for someone who lied to him and watching his mother turn to dust.  Deep down, Percy never really left that hill, and you can tell.

This is also the single most powerful trap that Percy’s good heart can fall into, the biggest moral blindspot he has.  Once someone crosses that line, hurts someone Percy considers his to protect, they’d better hope the judges of Hades have mercy on them, because Percy sure won’t.

5) Guilty pleasures

Percy mostly embraces the attitude that if anyone has earned some junk food and trash TV, it’s him.  He and Annabeth watch cooking shows when they’re too tired or insomniac to function--stuff like Cutthroat Kitchen, where they can watch people get really intense and high-adrenaline about relatively low-stakes issues.  They find it calming.  The closest Percy really comes to a guilty pleasure--in the sense of never ever admitting to anyone how much he genuinely enjoys it--is watching Annabeth’s architectural shows.  You know those shows on Netflix and YouTube that are just a couple of people gushing over weird buildings?  Annabeth loves those.  Percy has never retained a single piece of information from the shows themselves, but he likes to sit with Annabeth’s back against his chest and his chin on her shoulder and his arms around her waist, so that she can pause it every five minutes to provide color commentary without asking him to move.  Annabeth has Some Thoughts about the pseudo-brutalist concrete-facing-and-bulky-squares aesthetic and Percy can repeat that rant word for word.  He has no idea what half the words mean but he sure does know every single one of them.  He puts up a good front of being dragged into watching her nerd shit, but Annabeth Knows The Truth.

Also, related, but Percy finds it very soothing to have Annabeth on his lap or asleep on his chest and something like a firm couch or a wall at his back.  He thinks it’s something about the pressure--it’s a little like being underwater.

8) Bad memories/experiences

What isn’t, to be honest.  But I think for a while there after Mount Saint Helens, Percy was really, truly, deeply afraid of fire.  Hard to hold onto a phobia when you’ve got a world to save, but sometimes when he’s standing too near to a fire, he still feels the heat seize up in his chest and the instinctive craving for water.

14) Ingrained habits/forces of habit

Percy’s number one top habits are clearly being enthralled with Annabeth, taking over armies, and terrifying acts of demigod, based on the 20% of Son of Neptune I’ve gotten through.  In that order.

As far as headcanons go, I’m firmly convinced that Percy is the worst fidgeter in two camps full of fidgeters.  He plays with his necklace and drums Riptide on tables and knocks his knuckles into his ribs or knees or temple and clicks his tongue and paces and plays with Annabeth’s hair and and and--  Annabeth, whose ADHD is much more inattentive type than Percy’s raging combined type, finds it charming, her personal perpetual motion machine.  She jokes that if she hooked him up to a generator, she could power all of New York.  Really, some kind of pressure stim, putting him under five blankets or putting someone on his lap or something, is the only way to get him to hold still.

19) People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them

I already mentioned Michael Yew, but honestly I think Percy is...pretty haunted by the Battle of Manhattan.  He’s a leader by nature and a soldier by training and a hero by blood and none of those things make him okay with knowing how many people died on his orders.

On a slightly less morbid and more ADHD note, Percy has a mental list in excruciating detail of every single time he’s made Annabeth cry and sometimes when he’s already in a bad headspace he finds himself kind of obsessing over it.  He thinks a lot about her face while she burned his shroud.

20) What Ifs/Alternate Timelines

I described this to my girlfriend as “Big Three kids but one to the left,” soooo.

When Annabeth is twelve, she tries to go home, because her father just moved to California and all but begged her to come.  It lasts like three weeks and then she’s got her bag and her knife and a sour expression and she’s...figuring out transportation back to Long Island.  “Hitchhiking” makes it sound so dangerous.  Technically the driver of this truck doesn’t even know she’s here.  She just waits for him to stop and bails out and counts her forty-nine dollars and tries to decide what she’s going to do.  She’s already used one of her three drachma to tell Chiron she’s on her way, and really she shouldn’t use any more until she hears that they’ve sent someone to meet her, and--

And gods she’s tired.  She thinks she’s maybe in Vegas?  It’s only October, so it’s not real cold, but she’s angry with herself, for thinking it would be different with her dad, and angry with the truck driver, for stopping somewhere so glittery and confusing, and angry with the whole damn world for being like this.  She’s so angry that she doesn’t realize she’s gotten off the Strip until she practically slams into a wide gilt-glass door, which a doorman opens for her with a huge beaming smile.

“Welcome,” the doorman says warmly as Annabeth eyes him.  “We’ve been expecting you.”

Annabeth spends a few hours in the hotel’s game room, before she finds a strange boy about her own age who mentions offhand that he’s expecting his mother to come get him, after the war has settled down a bit.  They talk a little, and then the boy blinks at her, narrows his eyes, and says, “Something’s--not right here.”

Perseus--Percy, he tells her after giving her his full name, with a rueful smirk like it’s an old argument with someone else--hauls her out of the Lotus Hotel and Casino just after the winter solstice, and he has a few hours to gape around at Las Vegas before every monster in a forty mile radius descends on them.  Percy, in something of a panic, yells, and an entire graveyard bursts out of the ground.

Oh boy howdy is Olympus not amused at the sudden appearance of a son of Hades, two days after Zeus’ master bolt goes missing.

Also ft Bianca as a pine tree forming the gate to Camp Halfblood, and Thalia and her baby brother Jason, children of Poseidon, running scared from a manticore.  Thalia martyrs herself saving the quest to recover Annabeth, Bianca becomes lieutenant of the Hunters, and eventually, a kid who calls himself Nico shows up not long after Percy disappears.

[imagining-supernatural]

As It Seems: Chapter 21

Table of Contents

Según Parece: Lista De Contenidos

Summary: The end of it all

Word Count: 1821

Warnings: One last plot twist (ish)

A/N: It’s finally here

Beta’d by: @kclaire1. Our little time baby is all grown up! I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you sooo much! Te quiero mucho!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

~Dean’s POV~

“Y/N?” I stood up to search for her and nearly fell over. The sudden movement made my head swim. Apparently, traveling between timelines like this was just like a bad hangover. It made me wonder why I never felt like this when the Time Wraith sent us to the other timeline.

But that wasn’t important right now.

Y/N was.

“She did it?” Sam’s voice cracked, like it always did right after waking up.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” I answered testily, still not seeing my wife anywhere.

A soft noise jerked my head over to the mostly closed bathroom door. I pushed aside the headache that had blossomed and strode to the door in the next moment. Gently pushing the door open, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Y/N on the floor next to the toilet, obviously having just puked. She noticed me and offered a weak smile as she reached up to flush the toilet.

“Hey baby,” I called softly, crouching down in front of her. I reached over and cupped her cheek in my hand, softly rubbing my thumb over her cheekbone. She covered my hand with her own and leaned into my touch, closing her eyes. Her skin was clammy and there were new bags under her eyes. “You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah, well, Time Wraiths are despicable beings and being around them is like that moment the alcohol hits all at once after taking ten shots in a row. Or twenty. Or… whatever. It sucks.”

“But we’re back here so… that means everything worked out in the end, right?” I prayed it wasn’t too much to hope that everything went smoothly for once.

“Kinda. Let me swish some mouthwash then I’ll tell you guys all about it.” Her eyes darted up to the door where Sam and Crowley were peeking in.

They retreated back into the room and I reached for both of Y/N’s hands to pull her up. We were all in our clothes from this timeline, but my fingers rubbed against the wedding ring from the other timeline. Shouldn’t the rings have been left behind just like our wedding clothes?

“Why do we still have our rings? Not that I’m complaining. At all.”

“Because I drive a hard bargain.” She smiled tiredly at me before turning to the sink and grabbing for the mouthwash. “There’s a lot to tell about what happened there, but I didn’t want to give up the rings. We went through too damn much to lose these.”

It made no sense that she could pick and choose details that small. Though, I supposed that I had no idea what happened wherever she went, so I couldn’t really form a good opinion yet.

As soon as she finished rinsing out the mouthwash, she turned around and kissed me, framing my face with her hands. My hands went to her waist, pulling her closer. This was still our wedding day, despite all of the craziness. We were newlyweds, after all.

I made a promise to myself in that moment that I would find a few days, soon, when Y/N and I could get away and forget about the timelines and the Titans and whatever else, and we could have a real honeymoon.

That had to happen.

“I love you so much, Dean,” Y/N mumbled against my lips. “No matter what happens after I tell you what happened, I will always love you.”

“You’re scaring me, Y/N.”

“A lot happened. I learned a lot. And a lot changed. But hopefully, not too much. It’ll make sense when I tell you.”

She started walking out of the bathroom, but I couldn’t let her go like that. I pulled her back to me for another kiss. She said a lot had changed, but I knew one thing that never would.

“I love you too, Y/N. Always will. No matter what you say next, I will always love you. I meant what I said in my vows. Come Heaven or Hell, I am unconditionally yours.”

Some of the clouds on her face cleared and she smiled up at me, her body swaying into mine. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

After another kiss, she led me out to the room where Sam and Crowley were sitting in brooding silence. Their attention swung to Y/N as soon as she sat down on one of the beds, tugging my hand until I sat next to her.

“The Time Wraith who did this to us is dead.” That was a good start. Hopefully the rest of her tale wouldn’t go downhill. “Me being in that between world place drew the attention of the other wraiths and they showed up and realized that the bitch had gone rogue, so they killed her.”

“Just like we hoped,” Crowley interjected, and Y/N nodded.

“Yeah. But one complication when a Time Wraith dies, is that everything that wraith has changed will revert back to the original events. That’s why Time Wraiths don’t interact with timelines much, except for her, and why they’re so damn hard to kill. If they changed more timelines, I’m sure we would have more information on them, but since they aren’t typically a threat, there’s no need to know how to deal with them, you know?”

Sam’s forehead was creased and he leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “So when the other wraiths killed the Time Wraith who did this all, we were sent back here?”

“Not exactly,” Y/N hedged. “This isn’t even the original timeline.”

Y/N went on to explain the car crash and the wraith’s altruistic motives. The way events were turned on their head. How the wraith blamed Y/N for some reason.

“If things had gone back to the very original timeline, then I wouldn’t be here. You guys would still be hunting, probably. But I wouldn’t. My parents would be alive, Ethan would be dead, and I wouldn’t have gone down the road that led me here.”

“Then why are you here?” Crowley piped up.

“Because the Time Wraith was right.” Y/N sighed heavily, hesitantly. “I did have something to do with the car crash not turning out how she planned. When she tried to change my timeline, the timeline fought back because technically, I was never supposed to be born.”

Silence fell. What did that even mean?

After a minute of letting us process her bombshell, she threw another grenade in. “Changes in timelines don’t react the same to me because I’m not really in a timeline. The wraiths know every single soul in every single timeline. I guess it’s like they have a ledger of people who are supposed to be born. But I’m not on that ledger.”

“Why not?”

“Because… because that’s how Time Wraiths are created. When I die, I will turn into a Time Wraith.”

Well.

Fuck.

“I can’t believe the Time Wraiths let you choose which version of your life you wanted to go to,” I whispered later that night. We’d gotten our own room and were laying in bed. This was our wedding night, but too much had happened, too much weight of death and timelines were crowding around, and we were both just too damn tired to truly enjoy the night.

It had taken a while to wrap my head around the fact that I was married to a future Time Wraith. Actually, I still hadn’t completely wrapped my head around that. I don’t think Y/N had either.

“They just don’t want me trying to fuck things up. I don’t have any cool powers until I die, but I guess if I really wanted to, I could still mess around and make their lives hell.” She snuggled closer into my side. “So they let me pick where I wanted to go so I would be happier and less likely to want things to change.”

“Why this one, though? Your parents are dead. You hunt monsters. You don’t talk to your brother… I don’t get it.”

Reversing her previous actions, she pulled away from me so that she could meet my eyes. “This is the only timeline where I know you. It might not be what was originally meant to be, but it’s what’s meant to be forever.” She settled back down into my arms, wrapping one of her arms around my waist. “Besides, I promised Ethan I would get him his life back. He has a family in this timeline. He’s happy here.”

There was a heavy silence, full of the words Y/N left unsaid.

“You should go talk to him. Try to become a family again.”

“No.” Her answer was immediate. “I treated him like shit, Dean. When I was on drugs, I lived with him for a few months. I stole from him to buy more drugs. I yelled at him, blamed him for our parents’ deaths. I… I hit him more than once. I… I wasn’t a good person. He probably hates me and I don’t blame him. I don’t want to dredge up any of those memories. He’s happy now, and I’m not going to ruin that.”

This was new information. I always knew that her relationship was strained with Ethan, but I never knew why. The Y/N that she described when she was on drugs was a complete stranger to me. I couldn’t imagine her hitting anyone that wasn’t trying to kill her.

“What about you, though? You’re not going to be really happy until you fix your relationship with him. I saw how close you were in the other timeline. You really love him, Y/N. You need him in your life, at least a little.”

“He’s happy, Dean. I can’t—”

“Wouldn’t he be happier if he knew that you’re still alive? That you got better? That you still love him and want to fix what you did? That you married the most handsome and loving guy on this planet? If this was me and Sam, I’d want to know.”

She shifted, rolling over and leaving me cold. “Drop it, Dean. If I talk to him, suddenly he’s a target. I can’t have him and hunt.”

The memory of Addy’s body hitting the floor filled the space between us. I knew all too well the kind of threat that associating with hunters brought regular civilians.

But I also saw how much her family meant to Y/N. She was willing to give up everything just so that her brother would have a life where he was happy, even if it meant that he hated her. I knew this hurt her.

“Hunting is a lonely life,” I whisper, rolling over to pull her back into my chest.

She automatically tangled her fingers with mine and brought our joined hands up to brush a light kiss across my knuckles. The chill from when she pulled away earlier disappeared. “It’s less lonely with you.”

Thank God for that.

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[a-starry-eyed-pessimist]

My Haunting Past

The trailer park smelled of dirty dogs, pot, and random burning items. Burning cloth, hair, food, and plastic. The smell was faint but after you’ve been away from this place for so long the smell feels like a punch in the face. You can almost taste these things. The gravel paths and driveways crunched beneath my now grown feet. Broken glass everywhere in a variety of different colors; green, blue, black, and clear. Cats and dogs covered in dirt are skin and bones. In a pile, by my old bus stop, bullet shells are scattered. The memories wash over me. The gunfire, drag racing, and trains were my lullabies. There I stood in front of my old home.

“Kate!” a thick southern, hillbilly accent yelled from the next trailer over. I whipped my head around to be greeted by a blonde flat chested woman. Her hair was in a ponytail. She was missing teeth, in a tank top and ripped, acid washed jeans. I smiled as big as her,

“Mary! Is that you?” I knew it was her. “You look so good.” by that I meant her hair was brushed.

“Yeah, it’s me!” “look at you, miss Ivy league!” I went to the University of Alabama.

“What about me?” I asked. Mary was finally standing in front of me. She huffed and looked me up and down.

“Such soft, long, brown hair.” she touched my hair. “Big white teeth. And your clothes! … “Who do you think you are?” she questioned.

I laughed. “I know…I don’t wear those overalls anymore.” She laughed at the comment. She kept looking at me and then…finally hugged me. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just visiting. I’m here for 3 days, then I have to fly out. I wanted to see the old place.”

“Nice. Well… who have you seen?”

“Just you.”

“Want to see Nathan?”

I laughed nervously. “I don’t know.”

Mary grabbed my hand and ushered me towards her trailer. “I married that man. “

“Nathan?”

“Don’t hate me. You left, to go big time.” I’m a principal in D.C

“It’s fine. Has he changed?”

“Not really. He works construction now.”

“What about you?”

“I’m the local nanny. Since you left I’m the smart one.”

I just smiled and nodded. As we approached the broken screen door. The smell of nicotine filled my nose.  “Nath! Guess whos here?” Mary yelled, walking in.

“Who?” I could hear him get up from his seat as I walked in.  He looked at me, stumbled and blinked his eyes clear. His drunken state was upsetting. “Cat?”

“Kate. and Hi Nathan.” I answered with seriousness.

“Wow,” He nodded, and gathered himself.  His eyes slightly roamed my body. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Nathan had a beer belly peeking out from a tattered shirt. Had shaggy untamed hair, and hairy arms. He’s aged but not as bad as the other residents of the park. Mary and I have emailed each other and written letters. She’s told me Nathan was still a good guy all in all. He didn’t beat those he loved. He wasn’t a cheater. Although he drank and had no motivation. Granted practically everyone here had those two things in common. Mary was the only one I stayed in contact with over the years.

I looked at Mary. and we both stayed silent.  “Cat,  how’ve been?” He cleared his throat.

“Good,” I explained why I was there. How I was there to visit my dad and see the old place.

I was raised mainly by my dad. My mom disappeared when I was little. My loving father died in a car accident. He was picking up food to celebrate my acceptance into The University of Alabama. After that, I was 18 and alone. I rented out the trailer until I graduated. I brought my suitcase to the graduation. I was ready to make a clean break from everyone I knew. The second I stepped off that stage, a degree in hand, I got on the next Greyhound to Birmingham. Not looking back, I left my boyfriend, Nathan, and my friends in the dust of that bus. I didn’t even change my clothes until I was in my new dorm. I had money from my dad and went out to get a mirror, mini-fridge, and some food. I unpacked and looked at myself in the shiny mirror. I saw the dirty, white cap and gown flow over me. Under that, I had dirty jeans and my dads’ favorite shirt on. I shook my head and changed into my new University of Alabama sweatshirt. I folded the shirt nicely and placed it in my new dresser. I changed into some sweatpants and threw the jeans away. I looked at myself in my new mirror and smiled. It was the first time I was genuinely happy since I got my acceptance letter. Finally… I’m out. My roommate was a wealthy southern  debutante, who took particular interest in my “hillbilly lifestyle.”  She’s my best friend to this day.

I snapped out of my flashback.

Nathan and Mary were sitting on the couch eager to talk to me.

“So. Kate.” he patted the spot on the couch between Mary and himself. I sat down and looked at him. “Yeah?”  

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m a principal, in D.C”

“Wow. bet you have a nice house?”

“I have a pretty nice apartment.”

“Apartment? Not too different from where you grew up then?” He laughed and nudged me. I laughed at the joke too. “You know, we were all worried after you left.”

I looked down at my feet.  “You knew where I was.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve said goodbye? I haven’t seen you since then.”

“I wrote. I wrote to you and Mary, explaining where I was and said my goodbyes.”

Mary laughed “We know. It’s ok.”

Mary looked at the microwave for the time.”I have to go and get the Rollans kids.”

“Collin Rollans?” I questioned.

“Yup. with Lilly Poppers.” she cooed.

“Where are the kids?”  I asked.

“Bus stop. I’ll be back after. Lilly gets home.”

“I guess I should go too.” I began to emerge from the lumpy sofa.

“No. No. You gettin dinner with us and the gang.”

I huffed. “I should get to my hotel. I’m getting tired.”

“Come on!?” The two begged for me to stay. So I did. For dinner out with my old friends.

“Great. we’ll leave when I come home. I’ll call the old gang too.”  Mary left me and Nathan alone to talk. Once Mary was out the door, Nathan looked at me shyly.

“Before everyone goes crazy about the news that your back…I need to ask you something.” He smiled.

“What?”

“What happened to our plan in high school? We planned to visit each other. Then after I got a job in construction and you got your fancy job, we would move into a big house together.”

I laughed awkwardly.  “I don’t know…I guess I moved on.”

“I visited you. But when I found you. You were mingling with the high and mighty. And hitched up already.  When I wrote you,  never wrote back.”

“That was months after I started school. I was moved on from this place” I gestured around me and outside. I continued, “I didn’t need anyone pulling me back.”

“So, you remember.”

I became annoyed. “Remember what?”

“My visit.”

“Yes.”

Part 2: The Visit…

My memories went back to that day. I was outside of a cafe waiting for Nathan. Chrissy, my debutant roommate, and Bruno, a Football player were there with me. They were my closest friends. Chrissy wore a light blue designer dress. Bruno, in jeans and a T-shirt. I was wearing a dress with black converse.  Once I left the park, I tried many different styles. Girly with an edge seemed to be the one that was most like me. The three of was waited for maybe an hour before a southern boy with thick curly hair appeared. He had a jean jacket on with dark blue jeans covering his cowboy boots. I smiled and stood up.

“Nathan.” I greeted him with half excitement

“Cat, you look…different”

I smiled, “Uh…thanks”

He looked over at my new friends. I followed his gaze and eagerly introduced them.

“Bruno, Chrissy this is my old friend Nathan.” The two popped up and shook his dirty hand.

“Uh..hi” He retorted. The four of us sat down. Chrissy, bless her heart tried to smooth out the silence. In her distinguished, southern belle accent she spoke. “So, you lived in the trailer park with Kate?” I put my head down in embarrassment.

“Chriss?” I cleared my throat 

“Oh, my…sorry If that was rude”

“No,” Nathan said. “You just sound fancy as hell.”

“I’m not.” she laughed. She lowered her head closer to the table, and looked at the three of us, and whispered, “I’m not even religious.”

We all laughed. You can count on her to break the ice.  Bruno looked at Nathan.

“Damn dude. You could be a quarterback.”

“I was in high school.” Nathan shifted his tone to annoyed,  “Guess not good enough for this shit school.”

Bruno laughed awkwardly. That brought another wave of silence. We began to talk about classes. Which Nathan could be apart of.

“I hate biomechanics.” I laughed.

The three others chuckled as well. Nathan still giggling, asked, “why?”

“I’m so bad at it..” I exaggerated while rolling my eyes. 

Chrissy lifted her eyebrow, “Even with the help of Ethan?”

I turned red and then abruptly looked at Nathan.

“Ethan?” He asked. 

Bruno tried to stop Chrissy’s word vomit but failed. “He’s a guy Kate has been seeing.”

Nathan became annoyed but shook it off. He stared at me with anger and eager.

“Cat, I came here to bring you back.”

“What? Nathan…”

“No, listen…” He interrupted me.

“You belong with us, at the park, Not with fancy princesses and football players.”

I furrowed my brow. “No.”

“But…”

“No, You are not here to do that. I know where I’m happy and it’s here.” I’ve forgotten that Bruno and Chrissy were there as I ripped into Nathan. “I know where I belong, and it’s here. People here are smart and they challenge me.”

“You don’t need that. I need that and you!”

“No. I’m not going back.”

“Stop being a bitch.” Nathan barked. Bruno sat up with frustration.

“Don’t talk to her like that. You should go now, dude.”

“Fuck you.” Nathan barked again this time directed toward Bruno.

“Nathan!” I screamed.

“What!?  You’ve become another person!”

“I’ve become a better person.”

“I beg to differ” He slurred 

“Leave Nathan.”

“What?”

“I left the park. I know where I’m from. I never fit in. I finally feel like I belong. You have no right to make me feel bad or take that from me." 

Nathan stood up and stormed off. His chair flying behind him, and leaving me and my quiet friends alone.

………

I looked at the aged version of my high school boyfriend. He looked at me in my sundress and boots almost like he was remembering that day.

“I didn’t mean to act that way.” he retorted

“I know.” I pushed out.  

He looked at me with sad eyes.

“You still with that guy? The classmate.” Nathan asked with a gleam of hope.

“No. but I’m happily married to someone else.”

“Would he be angry or jealous if he knew you here with me?” he asked, lifting a seductive brow.

“No. He knows I’m here.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a writer.”

“Where is he, then?”

“California. That’s where I’m headed. We’re moving there, for his career.”

He shifted his body. “Why not here with you?”

“He’s coming tomorrow so we can fly to our new home together”  I was still annoyed and uncomfortable with his behavior.

“So, you have it all figured out then.” He became annoyed with me and my answer.

“No. What’s with the twenty questions? You’re married. And happy right?”

“Yeah. Just wondering.” He said in a unconvincing tone. 

I stood up smoothing down my dress.

“I’m going to visit my dads grave before dinner. I’ll meet you guys at Buck’s Diner”

“Fine. Buck is going to be there. He’s out of the park too. You’ll like him.” I rolled my eyes in response.

I got in my rental car and drove to the grave site. I parked and pulled back the bushes and a small closed off clearing appeared. A sparkling lake was in the middle of the small yard and a willow tree draped over half the clearing. I stared at the grave under the massive tree. Nailed in the truck was a sign. I slowly wiped my hand over the sign. Bean Lake: dedicated to my daughter. I used to read under the tree and swim in the lake when I wanted to get away. Only the two of knew about this gem. Just me and him. I stepped up to the gravestone.

“Hey, Dad,” I said kneeling down. “I’m in town for three days. I’m also finally visiting the park after ten years.” I smiled and imagined his response. “I know…’about time.’ I just couldn’t see the place. It’s not filled with good memories for either of us. I’m glad I get to see everyone today. I want mary to move so I can visit her without…” I started to cry. “Without crying.” I cleared my throat. I visited his grave so many times before, but this time it was filled with reminders of the people I left behind. I took my dad with me but left the park behind. “I’m glad Mary is happy though. I’m happy, so I want her to feel how I feel…Oh! Derek and I are moving to California. He got a job in Hollywood. I have a job set up at a charter school. I’ll finally be able to lead without the common core..” I laughed. I can almost hear his laughter too.  “I know you would be proud of me. You’d probably move next door to Derek and me, and of course, I’d buy the house for you.” I could hear his laughter again. “Buck owns his dad’s diner. Or so I heard. He lives in a suburb near here. I’m thrilled to hear that. He was the second smartest person there, after me of course. I can’t wait to see the others. I know everyone is happy…at least according to the emails from Mary. I’m so happy to see you dad.” I put flowers and nuts for the animals by his grave…he loved animals.

I took my boots off and hiked my dress up. I started to walk to the lake and dangled my feet in the warm sparkling water. I watched the squirrels gather around the nuts. The smell of flowers, fresh water, and clean grass filled the air around me. The best smell in the world was at this lake. They might have been faint, but after you’ve been away for so long the smell feels like the world is embracing you.