#KS summary

[crooked-hourglass]

Rough sketch, because I have feelings that need to be visualised. I will render this I promise!

[dan-whoell]

so did i miss anything or...?

[grabyourpillow]

Omg omg guys by the way I want to read books by Neil Gaiman but I have no idea which one to pick up. Any recommendations? Which ones did you read and would recommend? Why? 👀👀

[wesstars]

love, at second glance

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: that’s what you do when you love somebody else… wc: 1k tags: all characters 18+; no ghostface au. angst, horribly excessive use of italics (seriously, everything in italics is either a quote, a thought, or actual emphasis. it’s terrible) a/n: what’s up y’all (title from 715 - CR∑∑KS by bon iver)

masterlist

Tara wondered when it all began.

You and me, me and you.

A mantra that used to be comforting, it now left her mouth dry, mind frantic. 

Sometimes, when it got real bad like it did today, she’d drive out to your—our—deserted garage, and look up into a pitch black night, blinking away tears. It was easy to scream at the sky: how could you forget about me about us about milkshakes shared about distances closed about how I love you and love you and love you—but to you, she’d say nothing.

She couldn’t say anything, while you basked in the glow of a new hand to hold. It was all over in a helpless shrug. That was it, and really, it wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s fault. You couldn’t help it, Tara reasoned, you weren’t cruel. Even at the very end, you were endlessly kind. Commitment was a choice, but love, love happened to you away from Tara and she couldn’t do anything but watch.

Tara switched the engine off, leaning back in her seat. The stars shone barely brighter than the city lights. It was strange, the way that when she was on the brink of losing everything, the world looked that much more beautiful. Every breath in that particularly cold winter felt like it was being swallowed up by the vastness of air itself, precious in its scarcity. 

“But I love you.”

You said nothing for a moment, a troubled little frown twisting on your lips. “Tara, I—”

“I love you.” She heard, rather than felt, herself repeating it. As if stopping you from speaking would make that cold reality any less crushing. “That’s all.”

It was odd, Tara decided, to go online and see your life in the pictures she used to be part of. She put her phone down. From tide pulls to seasons changing, there wasn’t exactly a world where she envisioned herself going on without you. There was something in that sinking feeling, like you were holding her down with a hand on her chest, when she saw you laughing with your friends, with anyone, a smile so brilliant it couldn’t possibly have Tara as the cause. 

You’d always wanted a little cabin in the woods (“not in a creepy way,” you’d insist) surrounded by mist, and it would always be raining. “You’re the only sunshine I need, Tara Carpenter.” She could still hear the way you’d tease her, lying on your side next to her, tracing the bridge of her nose with your fingertip. So easy it was, to tumble back into those shining memories where absolutely nothing would go wrong, you wouldn't let it, because she was yours.

The top floor of the lot was empty, and the moon spilled onto the windshield, into the empty passenger seat. She was lucky, you both were lucky, to have even come as close to the sun as the two of you did. Tara knew, deep inside herself, that if she just let it all go, she would be okay. The blood would rush back into her fingertips—you wouldn’t be there to massage the feeling back into them, the way you often did on winter nights like this—and then she would be okay.

Tara thought that she remembered too much for someone so hurt. Your hand on her thigh while you drove, wiping her lipstick off your cheek, the way you seemed so so so unhappy when you sat her down for one last time. You didn’t even look the same then, like you were somebody else, you weren’t hers anymore. It was getting colder in the car, but Tara didn’t feel anything but the searing coil of shame. 

Sunkissed March found you and Tara lying side by side on a picnic blanket, sodas losing their fizz as time forgot to move the two of you. A breeze ruffled the leaves, and if she really listened, Tara could hear the frogs in the nearby pond. You loved it here—you said it reminded you of hot summers spent in the countryside, the days as long as wildflowers. Not half an hour ago, you were braiding together the stems of daisies into a lush crown. 

“For you, Queen Carpenter,” you said in a posh accent. “A gift from your humble knight—each braid represents a ‘forever,’ and each flower is an ‘always.’” You set the crown atop Tara’s head, kissing the tip of her nose as she rolled her eyes.

“And what has compelled my knight to bring me such a gift?”

“Only all of the love I carry for you, your majesty.” You scooped her up in your arms, smiling as she giggled, rolling the two of you over to settle into the knolls of grass.

There was a certain bravery in the way your fingers wrapped loosely around hers, the way the heels of both your shoes made indents in the dirt—proclaiming, we were here. Even in her doze, Tara could feel you there, each moment stretching on like strings of eternity, unfailingly. 

The moment did end, as moments do. The crown, dried and shrunk, still hung from the rear view mirror in the car. The daisies themselves were long gone, but the dried stems had somehow stayed bound together. Tara’s head dropped into her hands, eyes sore and red. She’d thought so much and so often about where the two of you went wrong, she felt like she had turned over every stone in your path, ones that didn’t carry with them the weight of a goodbye. Tara would give anything to even know what it would take for you to stand in the sun with her one more time.

The abrupt knock on the window should’ve startled Tara more than it did, given that it was four in the morning in an empty parking lot, and she was supposed to be all alone. But all she could do was watch with wide eyes as the knock came from you, at your tight lipped smile. She rolled down the window, unable to feel anything but shock as she took in your mismatched shoes with untied laces, your shirt way too thin for the cold night. You weren’t looking at her, guilt evident in the hunch of your shoulders. Your voice comes out exactly as she remembered it. 

“Hey… can we talk?”

--

a/n cont'd: don't super feel like i like this but writing it came naturally so

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[ghostofwriting]

in London: but in my mind I play it back

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating

Note: Another random drabble idea that popped into my head. This can be read as a stand-alone but it is the same Rafe and Reader as in London: I break done cause you're not around I might continue doing angst drabbles for this and by that I mean I have one other idea rattling inside my brain for this universe.

Not KS related.

Word Count: 914

Summary: Rafe sees her for the first time in years. He learns something that shows him he needs to let go.

He didn’t want to wake up today. Something was telling him to stay in bed a little longer and take his time.

He’s older now, more disciplined. Even on his day off he has to be out of bed and doing something. Today it was going to the grocery store. 

He freezes when he sees her in the parking lot as he’s grabbing his reusable bags from the backseat of his truck. Her hair looks freshly cut and styled. The breeze makes her look like she’s just stepped out of a magazine shoot. 

She looks older,  grown up and just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. His breath is shallow as she turns around with the empty shopping cart ready to put it away. 

Their eyes meet for the first time in years. Hers go wide when she notices him. 

He didn’t want to wake up today. 

“Hey.” He says awkwardly. He’s fidgeting with the straps of the bags in his hand and bouncing from one foot to the other. 

“Hi.” She gives him a small wave, her body turned, slightly as she pushes the shopping cart into another one. 

“How are you? Been a long time.” He walks closer to her but keeps a good distance between them.

She bods agreeing with his statement, “I’m well! How have you been?” 

“Good, yeah, no I’ve been good.” Her body is still halfway turned to him. Showing him that she can’t stay for long. 

“You look good.” He has no filter when it comes to her. Wants to be polite and not tell her that he’s still in love with her. That he’ll probably never not be. 

“Thank you. You too.” She motions in the direction of her car, opening her mouth to say something but he cuts her off.

“Are you here to see family?” She doesn’t come to the outer banks anymore. No one ever sees her around. She lives in London. That’s all he knows. He thinks back to the days when he knew every little thing about her. The smell of her perfume, how many sugars she took in her coffee, the looks she gave him and the meanings behind every little micro expression. When she loved him.

“Uh-“ she swallows and smiles, “I’m here for my wedding.”

His mouth goes dry. His hands start to shake so he puts them in fists and digs his nails into his palm to stop the pain from spreading into his heart. She stares at him, a soft smile still on her lips. She’s so beautiful he could die right now and be content with it. Seeing her happy would be enough for him even if it’s not directed at him like it used to be. 

She’s getting married. The girl he gave a promise ring to in their last year of high school is getting married and it’s not to him. Because he fucked up. Because she stopped looking at him like that the minute he betrayed her. His heart aches. It tells him to do something. To tell her that he loves her, get on his knees, and beg her to run away with him. It screams at him to stop the wedding. To fight one more time and leave a fire in his wake so she has no choice but to follow. 

He can’t do that to her. He ruined her one too many times, he’s hurt her enough. She deserves better than him. She deserves to be happy. Deserves someone who didn’t sleep with her best friend. It hurts. It kills him to think this way. He wishes he could be the guy waiting on the other end of the aisle. He isn’t. Not in this life at least. He only has himself to blame. 

“Congratulations.” He tells her. His hands still in fists at his side. 

“Thank you!” She smiles wider, “It was nice to see you, I should get going.” She goes to turn around again but he can’t let her leave. Not yet. 

“Are you happy?” He swallows.

She nods at him, “so happy.” His heart leaps for her once more. 

“Good. Yeah, you deserve that.” 

“Thank you, Rafe.” He hasn’t heard her say his name without hostility in such a long time. He melts at the sound of it leaving her lips. 

He loves her. God does he love her. 

And he lost her. 

“Bye, Rafe.” She waves.

“Bye.” He whispers to himself, watching her walk away and get into her car. 

The next time he sees her, if he sees her, she’ll be married. The woman he loves will be gone. 

Anyone who knows him will know that after all these years he was still holding out hope. He thought that one day he would gather enough courage to go find her in London and make her believe him when he told her he had changed. He would fight for her and their love and he would be the one to get down on one knee and ask her for forever. 

He dreamed that they would bump into each other at the beach by Tannyhill because she would be drawn there by their memories and he would ask her to come inside and they would start their journey back to each other. 

She’s getting married. This weekend she’s getting married. 

That alone leaves him empty of all the hopes and dreams.

He lets go. 

He didn’t want to wake up today.

[samanthaa-leanne]

Five: You Messed With The Wrong Girl

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Summary: YN Hinata is the twin sister of Shoyo Hinata. Where Shoyo is all rainbows and sunshine YN is thorns and storm clouds. YN picks on Hinata any chance she gets. Why? Because of how easy it is & that’s the only way she knows how to show her love. She’d never allow anyone else to treat Shoyo the way she does though. That is until the tall and handsome Tsukishima Kei enters her life and makes it a point to go against her wishes. Why does it always have to be the hot ones?

Pairings: Tsukishima x Reader  

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Language, angst, & 17+ memes

Updates: When I Can

Taglist: Open {20/50} please send an ask to be added to the taglist

@iamapotat @chewbrry  @kuroaka  @fantasycantasy @passionateuchiha @awkwardspontaneity @alpha-mommy69 @xoxopam4 @universal-s1ut @ks-tsukki @yuminako @thechaosoflonging @krak-jj @whoami-72 @a-little-pebbl @shadysuittrash @lovingnightmarewriter @pleaseitsjustrae0nly @noodleswastaken @wannabeisekai

[bangchanyespls]

Phosphorescence Pt 4

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: You make it back to the house. Felix is the first to look you over.

Tw: crying, yelling (or louder voice), injury

A/N: so yn is gunna use a nickname for Felix. It's gunna be Feixah (fee-ks-uh) (like fix but with an e, then uh) simply bc I think it's cute and that's how my save folder is for him on IG bc I mistyped when I was naming it 😂 but also I did a poll for who y/n is gunna be with and yall voted Chan, so your wish is my command. Unless yall lmk you changed your mind 😂

Part 3

Part 5

Minho keeps you against his chest, one hand holding the back of your head, your face pressed into the junction of his neck and shoulder, the other running up and down your back as you sag fully into him, arms dropping from around his neck to rest by your sides.

You can hear the house in chaos; Changbin and Han are in the hallway rapidly discussing if Han would be able to separate Chans blood from the tranquilizer, but Seungmin chimes in with the problem of how would they get the tranquilizer out of his body. Jeongin and Hyunjin seem to join the conversation, the sound of it moving further away from you and Minho.

You hear footsteps approach, Minho tensing slightly before relaxing, and Felix's voice meets your ears.

"Is y/n.. okay?"

There's a tremble in the way he says it, watery around the edges, the pause as he debates which word to use. You shift slightly, tilting your head back to remove it from Minhos neck. You look up at Felix, taking in the way his face is trying so hard not to crumble - the muscles in his neck just as tense as in his jaw, face tight to stop him from crying.

"I'm okay, 'Lixuh." You reply, trying to put on a reassuring smile for him, although you know it's more of a grimace.

You tap Minhos arm, and he stands up, helping you along the way, holding the majority of your weight for you. You situate your arm around his neck as you reach the other out, gesturing for Felix to come to you. Felix wraps his arms around you, tightening his grip as Minho bows out from under your arm.

"I'm gunna go check on their progress with Chan. Make sure to bring y/n back to the infirmary soon to get looked at."

Felix nods in response, eyes scanning over you as he holds you away from himself slightly. You watch Minho walk out of the room, reluctant to be alone with Felix as you're unsure of what his reaction will be this time.

He pulls you closer again, turning around before he sits you on the couch to do his own actual inspection. He drops to his knees infront of you, hands gently maneuvering and caressing each part of your body as he looks you over. You keep your eyes locked on the hollow of his throat, lips clamped tightly together to keep any sounds of discomfort locked in.

The silence is loud, aggressively charged like a bomb waiting to go off. Its normally a charged situation when you come back injured from a mission, but today's different and you're not sure why.

A hiss escapes your lips as Felix touches around your calf and he quickly moves his hands back up, resting them against the denim of your shorts on your thighs. You take a chance glancing at his face, but his head is hanging down as he squeezes.

"Feixuh-" you start, but he shakes his head harshly, squeezing your thighs harder, a silent beg from him, and you sigh, but go quiet, sliding your hands ontop of his.

He threads your fingers together, gripping them tight like you'll slip through if he doesn't. He rubs his thumbs up and down your hands, grip getting uncomfortably tight as his shoulders start to shake.

"I thought you weren't gunna come back this time, y/n." His whisper is harsh, like he's having to rip it from his throat to get it out. Like if he says it, then it'll come true and you'll disappear right infront of him.

"They came back with a barely conscious Chan, and you. weren't. there." He growls the last bit, voice going hard as he gets louder as he recounts what happened, "Hyunjin and Seungmin wouldn't even look me in the face as they dragged Chan to the infirmary! Minho refused to let me come with to get you! You could of died y/n! And I would of- what could i- if you-" his voice finally cracks, snapping as a sob tears out of his throat as he buries his face into your lap.

You can feel the burning in your throat and behind your eyes as you try to keep your own tears locked away. You remove a hand from his grip and run it through his hair as he sobs quietly into your lap. You scratch slightly at his scalp before you start again.

"Feixuh-"

He shakes his head one more time, still too upset to hear his own nickname.

You huff slightly, but comply. "Felix, I had to send them back first. You know Minho can only take three-"

His head shoots up as he looks you in the eye, his voice begging as he cuts you off.

"Why couldn't it of been you?"

You smile ruefully, moving your hands to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"You know I had to stay behind. No one else could protect themselves while also protecting the others."

He opens his mouth to interject, but you continue over him.

"The plan didn't go how it was supposed to and the first priority was getting Chan and everyone else out of there. I couldn't risk someone else getting hurt just to stay with me-"

He whines loudly, the noise slightly guttural from the back of his throat. His chest jumps up and down haphazardly as his breathing quickens.

"But what if they'd gotten through your shield, y/n? More than they did! Who knows what could of happened! They could of killed you! Or worse! And then -"

You cover his mouth with your hand, the other moving to the nape of his neck as you rub it, trying to soothe him.

"But they didn't. And I'm okay and right here. And everyone's back safe and sound."

He huffs against your hand and you remove it, leaning forward to place your forehead against his. You both stare at eachother as he starts regulating his breathing in time with yours.

You feel his hand go to the nape of your neck, fingers tight against your neck as you both hold the other close, both your eyes closing as you take a moment to rest, supporting each other.

"Everyone's safe.." He mumbles, and you nod slightly against him. He takes another breath, sliding his hand from your neck to cup your cheek softly. You open your eyes to see him looking at you, a sad, watery half smile greeting you before he backs away and stands up.

"Come on. Let's go get you checked out."

He holds his hand out, and you take it, shifting into him as you stand up to keep the weight off your leg. He moves your arm around his shoulder as he stoops down to pick you up, your knees hooking over his arm. You rest your head against the junction of his neck and shoulder and close your eyes as he carries you out of the room and to the infirmary.

♡♡

[steamberrystudio]

31/12/2023 Devlog

Hey everyone! Time for the bi-weekly tumblr update for Steamberry stuff! Except I skipped one because I can't remember why.

I half-wrote it but I think I just wasn't feeling up to finishing and posting.

I haven't been doing extremely well health-wise lately but still powering through.

Summary

Finished writing Chapter 5.5 (the new chapter in WSC)

Finished editing Chapters 6, 7, and 8 of Asher's path

Finished all the profiles for the GS lore book

Have started wrapping up the "side stories" and additional content for the GS lore book

Ramble

Okay so in my last update I was in the middle of editing chapter 5 and was nearly to the start of chapter six in editing Asher's route. I finished up chapter 5...

At that point when I was looking ahead, I started feeling like I wanted to add in a transition scene to move between Chapter 5 and Chapter 6.

As I started plotting out this scene, one of my ideas took on a life of its own and I realised that it might be better to interject a new, fleshed out story incident that would allow me to slow the pacing as well as flesh out the setting and universe a little more. This incident would also let me tie into some earlier events and connect them to something that occurs in chapter 6, also foreshadowing the chapter 6 incident.

Ultimately, this became too much to call a "scene" and I decided to branch it off into a supplementary chapter (IE a chapter a bit shorter than the others and meant to be released along with another chapter.)

Then that chapter ended up being 30,000 words.

So that happened.

After finishing that I went on to finish editing chapters 6, 7, and 8. I am currently on chapter 9. I only have a few more chapters before I'm finished editing Asher's path. As always, during my edits, one of the main things I do is flesh things out.

So obviously the word count has grown from that (and, you know, the 30k extra chapter I invented).

Currently the word count is 468,000 words.

Other Stuff:

I have received several new BGs and a new BG sketch. BGs are continuing to come in at a fairly steady pace.

I now have all the BGs for The Ophelia and the artists are working on other locations finally. OwO

I've also been, here and there, doing small tweaks to the sprites, small additions and fixes.

Gilded Shadows:

As I mentioned, I finally got through all the character profiles. There are so many more characters than I remembered in this game.

Then I got halfway through and realised that I forgot five. And had to insert them, which...meant rearranging pages, which is a pain in the butt. However, that is now complete.

What I'm working on now is finishing up some of the short stories and drabbles I have planned or partially written out and getting them into the lore book. 

As well as gathering any other content. The lore book is currently about 350 pages. And I am really hoping to wrap it up soon.

Upcoming Weeks:

Next couple of weeks I will be trying to wrap up the lore book and wrap up editing Asher's Path.

When I finish editing Asher's path I'll be moving on to finish drafting the end sequences for the four remaining characters. I'm starting to have an idea of where the word count is going to end up but will have a better idea for sure when Asher's edit is complete.

I have written over 100,000 words since mid-August, just plugging away and trying to hit at least 1000 words a day.

I hit my year end word count goal of 466,000 words for When Stars Collide but unfortunately did not finish the draft because the draft has grown in size.

But I am really hoping to finish it early next year so we can fully move into phase 2 of When Stars Collide.

I am also hoping to get the final KS stuff resolved for Gilded Shadows early next year as well (the lore book, art book, and some residual art and stuff).

For now, I shall just keep plucking away at it until it's all done.

And that is all for now. I will see you all next year.

[supernaturalscribe67]

Lucky

Words: 4,699

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of surgery, references to top surgery recovery, slight gore (maybe?), language (also, maybe?), loving and supportive family members, fluff

Summary: Top surgery was never something the reader thought was possible. With the help of Sam, he was able to make his dream come true, and his brothers are there for him to help while he's in recovery.

Request:

I would absolutely love Dean and Sam with a younger trans brother who just got top surgery and is in recovery? Just fluff of like helping him wash his hair or getting things for him and reassuring them? Love your content so much!! It so nice to see some more trans content in the supernatural fandom :)

@cometcreates

A/N: I am so sorry this took a little longer to get out than I planned - work has been extremely hectic and draining recently - but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Much love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

People define luck in many different ways. Some say luck is a dollar bill lying on the ground, some say it’s a passing grade once they get their tests back, and others say it’s their true love. (Y/N), however, would define his luck as waking up every morning in the Men of Letters bunker with his brothers. 

Years ago when he came out to his older brothers as transgender, although they were a little confused at first, they were fully supportive. They did everything in their power to make sure that their little brother was comfortable, not only in their home and out in public but in his skin as well. They purchased a binder for him, got him better clothing, adjusted rather quickly to his name and pronoun change, and got defensive - sometimes a little too much - whenever someone misgendered him. With all that they were doing for him, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine how luckier he could get. He already had an amazing support system, what else could he need? 

At the end of last year, Sam approached him and asked him if he had been wanting to get top surgery, something they had talked about once or twice, but never regularly. When (Y/N) showed his interest in getting the surgery, Sam told him that he had done some research about different places where he could potentially get the procedure done, as well as all the criteria that certain places needed for him to qualify. After they sat and talked for a while, they concluded that, with Sam’s assistance, they would get started on (Y/N)’s journey toward top surgery. 

The months following consisted of semi-monthly visits with a psychologist Sam found in Hays, KS - all of the medical professionals required a steady diagnosis of gender-dysphoria from a registered psychologist to be able to consider the patient for the operation - as well as reading up on the aftermath of the surgery and what was to be expected. Of course, (Y/N) knew he would get all of the information from his surgeon before it was done, but he wanted to make sure he was well-informed and nothing was left out of the consultation. 

The consultation went well, and, after waiting for an eternity in the examination room, the doctor finally came in and set up the date for the surgery. (Y/N) was over the moon, and he immediately began to count down the days. Sam and Dean helped him get all of the necessary items he needed for the surgery recovery; various snacks, scar care creams, a surgical binder, a mastectomy pillow, and an extremely cozy blanket that he had begged them to buy. Even after they had gotten everything on the list, occasionally, they would buy something they thought would be beneficial for the recovery period. 

Then, they waited. Day after day went by and (Y/N) found it difficult to focus on hunting rather than the anxiety and anticipation that bubbled within him, but his brothers kept him grounded in times of distress. They could tell just how excited he was, and they never wanted to dampen the mood by turning his focus back on the job. They wanted him to keep that enthusiasm even after he had the surgery. When the day of the surgery came, they didn’t even try to calm his excitement. Just seeing how happy he was made them feel the same. 

The surgery went well. The recovery was going to be the hard part. The doctor made sure to prescribe him pain medication, which the brothers had picked up before they left the surgical center to head back to the bunker, and gave him a pamphlet describing all of his recovery needs in grave detail. Of course, they had already been well-prepared for the occasion, but it was nice to have it on hand. (Y/N) stayed in the hospital under observation for two days until he was finally released, clad in nothing but a pair of shorts, some slides, his surgical binder, the drainage tubes and bulbs connected to each incision underneath the binder, and one of Sam’s flannels that rested against his shoulders, keeping the front open to allow his chest to breathe. After he was wheeled and loaded into the back of the car, the three brothers made the drive back home. 

By the time the Impala edged its way into the well-lit garage, the sun had gone down, and the night sky was littered with stars. It wasn’t a long way to Lebanon from Kansas City, about five hours depending on traffic, but the trip wasn’t entirely painless. (Y/N) was thankful for the medications he was given after his surgery, but the bumpy backroads in Kansas were ruthless and did little to provide a comfortable drive home. He initially tried to sleep through the journey, but every pothole they hit - accompanied by an apology from his oldest brother - sent another wave of discomfort coursing through his chest. He had never felt more joy in his entire life than when he saw the familiar dirt road as he and his brothers got closer to the bunker. 

Dean parked the car and killed the engine. He turned, arm draped over the back of the front seat. “You feeling okay?” He asked. 

(Y/N) glanced over at him and gave a small nod. He adjusted himself and winced as the pain shot through his arms and chest. “Just sore, hurts like hell. When am I due for my next round of meds, Sammy?” He turned to his older brother in the passenger’s seat. 

Sam looked back at him for a moment and then down at his phone screen. “You should be able to take some more now. Why don’t we get you inside and into your bed first? That way we can get you something to eat and drink with your medicine.” 

“No food,” (Y/N) groaned. “I don’t feel like eating now.” 

“You have to eat something.” 

“Fine, I’ll eat some crackers, or something small, or one of those snack cakes I got, but I really can’t eat anything filling right now. I’ll eat some more in the morning when I’m feeling better.” 

“Alright,” 

“Now, can someone let me out? These doors are surprisingly heavy.” 

“Yeah!” Dean said, quick to jump out of the car and head towards the back passenger’s side. He opened the door and held out a hand. 

(Y/N) smiled weakly as he reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand. He was slow to move out of the seat and plant his feet on the ground. When he stood, his legs shook, but he let out a sigh of relief. His legs were weak. The recovery had consisted of laying in his hospital bed and, occasionally, getting up and taking a few steps inside his room, just to keep the blood flowing in his legs. With the lack of energy he had and the five-hour ride back, his legs felt completely numb, as if they were made of Jell-O. 

Dean held (Y/N)’s hand tightly while his opposite arm wrapped around his waist. He moved him away from the car and shut the door. The two of them made their way to the bunker door. Sam jumped out of the car and caught up with them as they walked inside. When they were greeted with the metal stairs that landed in the War Room, (Y/N) stopped. He let out a sigh of defeat. 

“This is going to hurt like Hell,” he mumbled. He reached a shaky arm over and grasped the railing until his knuckles paled. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Dean nodded softly. 

(Y/N) returned the nod and they began to walk down the stairs, one step at a time. The entire time they walked, Dean held onto him tightly, both of their eyes cast down towards the steps. Each step, despite the snail’s pace they walked at, made a jolt of pain shoot through (Y/N)’s back. A pained expression crossed his face multiple times as he pressed his lips together tightly. 

Finally, they reached the bottom of the stairs and another contempt sigh left (Y/N)’s lips. Sam brushed past them. 

“I’m going to grab your crackers and water and meet you in your room, okay?” He placed a gentle hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

“Sounds good,” (Y/N) flashed a thumbs-up towards him before Sam walked down the hallway, toward the kitchen. 

(Y/N) was a little quicker when they walked through the halls, and he was thankful when they reached his room. He wasted no time parting himself from his brother and making his way over to his bed. Despite his shaky legs, he held himself up well. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand, illuminating the room with a faint yellow glow. 

His bed was neatly made with multiple pillows resting at the head - the doctor recommended that he slept elevated for the first week or so and then slept on his back for several months afterward. It would be an adjustment, but (Y/N) knew that he could get used to it. 

He climbed into his bed, careful of the collection bags on his chest, and crawled underneath the layers of blankets. Instantly, he relaxed into the plush mattress, head resting on the stack of pillows behind him. Dean waltzed deeper into the room, eyeing him carefully. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Better now that I’m in bed,” (Y/N) looked over at him. “Although it just feels like I’m in another hospital room.” 

“At least you won’t be eating any more hospital food,” 

(Y/N) grimaced. “Don’t remind me of that, I’ll throw up.” 

Sam entered the room, a bottle of water in one hand, the white bag with (Y/N)’s prescription narcotics tucked under his arm, and a small sleeve of saltines in the other. He set the water bottle and saltines down on the bedside table and opened the bag. He took out the orange pill bottle and fished out an oval-shaped white capsule. He handed it to (Y/N), who took it gratefully. He popped the pill into his mouth and drank some water to wash it down. 

“You should probably empty those soon,” Sam said, gesturing towards the bags that rested against (Y/N)’s stomach. 

(Y/N) glanced down at them and shook his head. “The doctor said every twelve hours should be good. They changed them right before I left the hospital, so they should be fine for right now.” 

“Alright, if you say so,” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you need anything? TV? Books? Some snacks?”

“I’m good, thanks. I think I’m going to catch some shuteye for a bit. That car ride took all the energy out of me.” 

Sam nodded and turned to walk towards the door. “If you need anything, let us know.” 

“I will, don’t worry.” 

“Seriously,” Dean piped up. “If you need anything, even if it’s small, just holler or shoot us a text.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle. The overprotective nature of his brothers was something that never changed. “I promise I’ll call if I need anything.” 

Dean and Sam both gave him a small smile before they turned and left the room, closing the door behind them. (Y/N) marveled in the silence. No nurses walking outside of his room, no snoring from his brothers on the pull-out beds, no heart monitors beeping constantly. It was peaceful. He reached over and turned off the lamp light, flooding the room, once again, with darkness. The darkness was something he missed. He would never take his pitch-black room for granted ever again. 

He awoke six hours later, around the time when the medication began to wear off and the pain resurfaced. He had tried to reach over to the nightstand and grab the pill bottle, but his arms were too stiff. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, a grunt falling from his lips. The pain wasn’t as bad as it had been the day after surgery, it was mostly the sore tenderness he felt in his chest and back that bothered him. When his feet touched the floor, he was able to lean over and grab the pill bottle with ease. He uncapped it, took out another capsule, and popped it into his mouth, followed by a drink of water. The medication would start working in twenty minutes or so. 

The ache wasn’t only in his chest and back, however. As he downed the water, he felt it fall into his stomach. A gurgle sounded from his gut and he placed a hand over it. He probably shouldn’t have taken the medication on an empty stomach. He needed some food. For a moment, he considered the saltines on the bedside table but quickly tossed out the idea. They didn’t sound as appetizing as they had before he went to sleep, and even then he had only accepted them to make his brother feel better. He wanted some real food. He wanted some of the snack cakes that he got for the occasion. The real question was; could he get up and walk to the kitchen by himself without bothering his brothers? It was still early, so they were most likely asleep. They had been with him the entire time he was in the hospital, and he wanted to make sure that they got the sleep they deserved. 

(Y/N) placed his hands on his knees and let in a deep breath, his eyes falling closed for a second. With a quick exhale, he hoisted himself off of the bed. His legs quivered, and he had to reach back towards the bed to steady himself. After he stood for a couple of minutes, the blood seemed to flow back through his legs. They were unsteady, but less than they had been before. He shuffled his way towards his door and opened it, glancing up and down the hallways. He then made his way towards the kitchen. The sound of his stomach growling echoed throughout the corridor. 

“Damn, I’m getting you food, calm down,” (Y/N) mumbled to himself. 

It took a lot longer for him to get to the kitchen than it had taken to get to his room the night before. He was slow, uncomfortably so, and he hated it. He felt like an old man. At least I’m an old man without tits, he thought. 

When he got into the kitchen, he walked over to the pantry shelves and glanced up. Sat on the second highest shelf were the cupcakes that he had been craving. Those delicate, chocolatey, packaged goodies. They were teasing him with the pictures on the front of the box. He wanted one so bad, and he couldn’t even reach them. He could barely lift his arms enough to reach the shelf directly in front of him. He tried to scour the shelf in front of him for something that sounded at least a little bit appetizing, but nothing made his mouth water as much as the soft, chocolate cakes near the top of the pantry. 

Curse you, Hostess. 

Just as he was about to give up and pick something from a more accessible shelf, the sound of padded footsteps echoed down the hallway. (Y/N) turned his head towards the door as Sam entered. Sam furrowed his brows. 

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” 

“Oh, the pain medicine wore off, so I took another one. Plus I’m starving,” he then turned his gaze back to the cupcakes. 

“Do you want me to make you something for breakfast? I can make scrambled eggs.” 

“Sure,” (Y/N) shrugged. “But…I really…want a cupcake.” 

“For breakfast?” 

(Y/N) looked back at Sam. His bottom lip was pushed out in a small, child-like pout. His eyes were big and his brows were tilted up slightly. It was his own signature puppy-dog eyes. Sam’s puppy-dog eyes were good, but (Y/N)’s was better. Those eyes were the reason behind him getting to pick a place to eat or what movie they watched most of the time. 

Sam sighed as he walked over, grabbed the box of cupcakes, and ripped it open. He took out a package and handed it to (Y/N). (Y/N) beamed and ripped the plastic open. He took a big bite of the cupcake and hummed happily. 

“Ok, you have your cupcake, but I’m still going to make you some scrambled eggs. You need to have some real food in you.” 

“Cupcakes are real food, Samuel. Maybe you’d be happier if you ate one once in a while.” 

“And maybe you’d be happier if you ate healthier.” 

(Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes and smirked before he walked over to the fridge. Meanwhile, (Y/N) trudged over to the table and sat down. 

“You should probably change your bags soon,” Sam said. 

(Y/N) glanced down at the bags and noticed that they were halfway full. He cursed under his breath. “Let me enjoy my cupcake and then I’ll empty them.” 

“Do you need help?” 

“Nah, I got it, thanks, though.” 

Sam smiled and nodded. Without hesitation, (Y/N) shoved the rest of the cupcake in his mouth, a hum of pleasure emitting from his throat. Sam grimaced and turned away. (Y/N) glanced over at him. 

“Don’t judge me,” he mumbled with a mouthful of food before he stood up and made his way to the bathroom to drain his bulbs.

Three days had passed, and (Y/N) had already started feeling better. His movement had increased, the pain was starting to diminish, and the fluid that filled the bulbs slowed. His mental health had noticeably improved and every time he looked in the mirror, admiring his newly sculpted chest, the smile would never fail to stick to his face for hours on end. One thing that he didn’t like about the recovery process though, something that stayed a consistent issue, was the lack of personal hygiene. 

When his doctor told him that he wouldn’t be able to shower for a while after the procedure, he didn’t think that it would affect him as much as it was. Granted, he still took whore baths, using a damp washcloth and some soap to clean his body off the best that he could, but he could still feel the grime that coated his skin. Specifically, his hair was what bothered him the most. It was wet with grease to the point where it could stand up without any assistance from haircare products. (Y/N) felt disgusting. He needed to get his hair clean, quickly, and he couldn’t do it by himself. If he leaned over too much, the strain on his chest would cause the pain to flair up. He needed help. Sam had been busy researching and assisting other hunters who had called while the brothers were on a break from hunting themselves, so (Y/N) went to the next best person.  

(Y/N) knocked on Dean’s door rhythmically. A faint ‘come in’ sounded from inside. He opened the door to see his brother on his bed, lying on his stomach, eyes glued to the television screen in front of him. 

“Hey,” Dean said with a smile. “How’re you doing, kiddo?” 

“Pretty good. The pain’s not as bad today. I was wondering if you could help me with something, though.” 

“Sure,” Dean reached over, grabbed the remote, and turned off the television. He shifted himself so that he was sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What do you need?” 

“Can you wash my hair for me?” 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to shower yet.” 

“I can’t get my chest wet, but I can clean the rest of my body. I’ve been taking whore baths for the past couple of days, but I haven’t been able to get my hair cleaned. Could you help me with that?” 

Dean hummed and pursed his lips. “Yeah,” he said as he stood up. “Meet me in the bathroom, I’ll be in there in a bit.” 

(Y/N) didn’t wait in the bathroom for long before Dean rounded the corner, a chair dragging behind him. He placed the chair in front of the sink and gestured to it. 

“Sit,” he said. 

(Y/N) awed. “It’s like a trashy hair salon.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. He grabbed the shampoo and conditioner from the bathroom cabinet as (Y/N) sat down in the chair. He leaned his head back so that it rested against the cool basin. Dean walked over to the sink and glanced down at his head. He grimaced. 

“Damn, kid, you definitely need to wash that hair.” he reached down and touched a lock of his hair, wincing as he pulled his hand back, studying the sheen that the hair left on his fingers. “Ew.” 

“Thanks,” (Y/N) deadpanned. 

Dean smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you all cleaned up.” 

Dean turned on the hot water, the spout shooting out the liquid into the sink. Dean began to run his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair. (Y/N) instinctively closed his eyes. Dean wet his hair, pouring the water over the locks with his cupped hands. 

(Y/N) could remember the last time he went to the hair salon. He was young, around the age of six, and Bobby had taken him to get his hair done. Even though Bobby seemed uncomfortable the entire time he was there, he wanted to make sure that (Y/N) had a somewhat normal childhood experience. (Y/N) was ecstatic, and enjoyed every minute of the haircut. His favorite part, however, was when the stylist was washing his hair. It was something about the way her fingers caressed his scalp, massaging the product into the roots of his hair, that brought an overwhelming sense of bliss. Dean’s fingers weren’t as gentle and soft as the stylist’s, but he sure knew how to give a good head massage. 

Two fingers gently tapped against the side of (Y/N)’s head. He opened his eyes and looked up at his brother. He hummed in acknowledgment. 

“I said ‘Do you like it’?” Dean repeated, a smirk curled into the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. The suds dripped down from the side of his head and caressed the outside of his ear. “Feels nice. You should have gone to cosmetology school.” 

Dean laughed. “I meant your chest. How do you…feel now?” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) let out a short laugh. “Honestly, I feel great. I don’t have to bind anymore, which means I won’t have to worry about hunts and catching my breath. I no longer have to worry about if clothes will fit me because of my chest. I don’t look in the mirror and hate what I see…” his voice trailed. “I look in the mirror and I see me. The me that I was supposed to be.” 

The two of them were silent for a while as Dean poured water over his hair, washing out the soap. His fingers caressed the back of (Y/N)’s scalp, watching intensely as the conditioner ran down the drain. 

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, Sammy and I always saw you as our little brother. I mean, you never really did all that girly crap - makeup, playing with dolls, stuff like that. You were always interested in playing with the mud. The amount of times that you would get in trouble with Bobby because you would bring mudpies into his house, or whenever you would track mud inside when it was raining. He got so pissed,” he chuckled, and (Y/N) joined him. 

“But then you got older,” he continued. “And it started to seem like you weren’t really my brother. But…something wasn’t right. I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Calling you my sister felt wrong. I started calling you my little brother again whenever I told people about you, and then it felt right. When you told us you were transgender, it all made sense to me. It clicked. You never really were my little sister. You were my little brother, just with a few extra parts. Now that you got your surgery, I can see just how happy you are. How comfortable you are, and that means more to me than anything else.” 

The conditioner was gone. (Y/N)’s freshly washed hair laid against the basin. Dean reached over to the cabinet and grabbed out a small hand towel. He ruffled the towel against (Y/N)’s damp hair, making sure to get all of the water off of the side of his face and his ears. When his face was dry, he helped him sit up. 

“And me seeing you like this, I have never felt more proud of you,” Dean concluded. 

(Y/N) glanced up at Dean, brows raised. His wet hair dripped onto his naked shoulder. “Really?” He asked in a quiet voice. 

Dean smiled softly. “Yeah. I’m proud that you told Sam and me how you felt. I’m proud that you got the courage to go through with the surgery, and,” Dean knelt in front of the chair. “I’m proud to call you my baby brother.” 

A lump had formed in (Y/N)’s throat. His eyes glimmered with tears that pooled in their corners. Without saying anything, (Y/N) reached forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, pulling him into a loose embrace. Dean placed his hands on (Y/N)’s back and smiled into the hug. 

“I owe you and Sam so much,” (Y/N) spoke softly. “You guys take such good care of me.” 

“You don’t owe us anything. That’s just what big brothers are supposed to do.” 

“Not even if I bake you a pie?” 

“Now, if you decide to bake a pie, I won’t turn it down,” Dean pulled away and held his hands up. 

(Y/N) sniffled and wiped the tears away. “I should make Sammy one of those fancy salads he likes.” 

“Oh, he’ll go crazy for that,” Dean mumbled. “Him and his damn rabbit food.” 

“You go crazy for pie, though.” 

“Yeah, but pie is good. Actually good.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, causing Dean to chuckle. Dean stood up and brushed his jeans off, stretching his arms above his head. 

“What do you say we get Sammy and go watch a movie?” Dean asked. 

(Y/N) smiled. “I’d like that.” 

“Great! You go get Sammy and I’ll get the snacks.” 

Dean turned and jogged out of the room. (Y/N) stood and tilted his neck from side to side, noting the small strain in his muscles. (Y/N) grabbed the back of the chair he had been sitting in, but stopped as he saw himself in the reflection of the small mirror. His eyes scraped over his body, from his head down to his exposed hips. He shifted so that he could see his torso from the side.

It was almost as if he was in a dream. Like, at any moment, he would blink and wake up in his bed with his breasts still attached to his chest. For years, he had been wanting to get top surgery, but it never seemed like something he was able to achieve. Never in his wildest imagination did he see himself standing in front of a mirror and feeling proud of the body that he stood in. He no longer saw the body of a woman, the man he was trapped inside and desperately attempting to claw his way out. He saw a man, who he truly was, the real (Y/N) Winchester. 

And as he stared at his chest, a smile appearing on his lips, the words Dean spoke echoed in his head;

I’m proud to call you my baby brother.

Now, (Y/N) Winchester could confidently say that he was the luckiest man alive.

[mm-nani-fics]

[kristsingto] driving home

Rating: Gen Pairing: KristSingto Summary: Kristsingto being driven home together after a long day of interviews and pressers.

I saw @thebroccolination's KS handholding then and now post and then promptly lost all my braincells. I am very new to this pair. these are my first impressions my apologies if its OOC - im learning!

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

Deep breath in.

The car door slams shut.

Hold.

A slight jerk as the car sets into motion.

Slowly out.

Krist needs that moment to himself, that little breath before he turns his head and acknowledges the person next to him; Singto tapping something away on his phone. It reminds him to make sure that his is still in his pocket. Finding its shape through his pants, Krist knows to look back when he hears the click of Singto’s phone screen being turned off. Singto is smiling at him, a happy crinkle to his eyes as he too turns to Krist, “You did a really good job today, na?” 

He says rubbing his shoulders and Krist smiles because no matter how many times you’ve done this, no matter how good or how practiced, no matter how many bigger things, more tiring things you’ve done before, it’s always nice to hear a sweet word at the end of a long day.

Who better to understand that than Singto?

“You too, na phi.” He says, he probably says something like this Singto everyday nowadays and is always surprised by how much he means it every time. Singto truly, in the most objective sense that Krist can construct, the very best at what he does. And Krist can’t believe he gets to stand next to him and bask in it again. It’s easy, it’s too easy to sit next to him and gush about his talents. A little harder to bite it back, to stop elaborating, to stop explaining everything that he’s feeling right now, everything he feels all the time at the thought of those little crinkles by Singto’s eyes; how he gets to see them more often now, gets to feel Singto’s joy underneath his fingers, than just behind a phone screen.

He scooches in along the lines of that outstretched arm till he can rest his head on Singto’s shoulder; head heavy but heart light with Singto’s hand coming to rest between them. After that it’s only natural that Krist takes it, their fingers coming together. Krist wiggles the a little watches Singto mindlessly - he’s on his phone once more - shift his fingers to accommodate Krist’s restless ones

There’s nothing left to say, there’s nothing left to hear other than the sound of the car’s engine and Singto’s gentle tap tap on his phone, his fingers resting between Krist’s, entwined without a sound in the light of the outside world passing them by. It’s mundane by now, the contrast of their skin and the lines of Singto’s knuckles and the softness of his palm. But there’s a part of Krist that can feel, maybe always feels, the way it had felt taking that hand for the first time. 

There’s a ghost of that little pebble lodged in his throat, and the murmur of the butterflies that had filled his stomach, a little tingle of the wonder when for the first time he’d thought of a man he’d thought unreachable, ‘Oh, I guess we’re close’ and a hefty wave of that comfort of, ‘Oh, he understands me,’ as he’s lulling in the car, Singto’s shoulder bony but jacket soft under his cheek.

‘P’Sing’ He calls.

And in the second that it takes for Singto to answer with a little ‘hmm?’ Krist has drifted off to sleep.

[fandom-blackhole]

hi :3 your jackson song as a joel fic is still rent free in my head. could you share your idea? or is it still under wraps?

mwah mwah!! 😘

You know what? You asked for this, you made me think of this fic idea again, so you're getting the full fic rn. I hope you enjoy it lmao <3 <3

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (gender/race neutral) Summary: Three times Reader sings Jackson by Johnny Cash and annoys Joel, and the one time Joel actually joins in. this is a 3+1 bc i couldn't decide which scene I had imagined for this to write so I went with all of the above (I heavily suggest listening to the song at least once, it's a great tune and will get stuck in your head lol) Warnings: contains spoilers for the show and game (bc as usual I am mixing the two together, mentions of violence and guns, really just reader being annoying to Joel, me shitting on KC (im from KS so im allowed), UNEDITED (bc i am being a bit lazy sorry) WC: 4.5k (how do all of my fics get away from me like this smh)

1

It had been a long few hours. Emotions were a little high and tension was a bit thick. Neither you nor Joel had been expecting what you found when you finally got to Bill and Frank’s small town. You’d expected a smile and hug from Frank and grumpy complaining from Bill over bringing an outsider, let alone a kid to his town. You’d expected to see Frank take to Ellie and want to show her around, clean her up and feed her like he loved to do. You’d expected to find two of the few you allowed yourself to call friends. Instead you found quiet emptiness, dead flowers, and a note that had your heart breaking for the second time in so many days. Tess' death still heavy on your heart, now had the company of losing Bill and Frank.

So when the first notes softly floated from the speakers of the truck Bill left Joel, you had to do a double take, a grin quickly lighting up your face as you jumped forward in your seat and turned up the radio. The words you knew by heart, the song one of your mother’s favorites, so at the exact time Joel turned to you in question, you grinned widely at him and sang along, “We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout.”

With a huff Joel whispered to himself an exasperated, “Christ,” but you carried on.

“We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.”

You could hear Ellie behind you laughing to herself as Joel shook his head. You didn’t let up, though, you kept singing and pulling laughs from Ellie, making sure to put emphasis on the way you sang every time Jackson was mentioned. You made sure to put on a show as the song switched back and forth between the duet, deepening your voice and acting all suave while Johnny Cash sang and all smooth and flirty during June Carter’s parts.

By the time the song was over, you were a bit breathless from your antics and Ellie was doubled over in the back seat of the truck laughing at you and clapping for you. Joel, though, simply reached over and turned the radio back down til the next song was just barely heard over Ellie's wheezing and the sound of the truck’s engine. 

Turning to Joel with a giant grin, you see him simply shaking his head. So you tilted your head at him, as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well? What did you think of my once in a lifetime performance,” you asked with a teasing grin.

Joel simply huffed, “It was, uh, somethin’.”

With faux pride you close your eyes with a nod and confidently say, “Thank you, I worked very hard on that you know. Gonna be singing on the big stage one day.”

That drew a chuckle out of Joel as he grinned and said, “I look forward to seein’ it.”

2

Kansas City looked a bit worse for wear than you had expected. Though you probably should have really expected this, the rumors that floated around about the city were not favorable. Of all of the cities and FEDRA run quarantine zones it was well known that Kansas City was one of the worst and you better off trying to survive on your own rather try and find refuge within the city. Honestly though it's not too surprising the quarantine zone ended up the way it did, the city was situated in the ass crack of Missouri and Kansas afterall. 

You were however caught off guard when you found that the Kansas City FEDRA had finally toppled and the city had been taken over by a group of hunters who were more than happy to use what the soldiers had left behind after their deaths. The hunter were still crafty with their environment, you had to give them that. 

The crash had left all three of you disoriented. You had not expected the bus that they had let loose on the truck and you highly doubted Joel had expected it either. When the truck crashed into the convenience store you were thrown forward, smashing you head into the dash so hard spots formed in your eyes and you could feel a piece of glass dig into the skin right above your left eye. 

After that things kind of passed in a blur for you. You knew there was a fight and you knew that you had shot at a few guys, though you kind of doubted that you actually managed to hit either with how disoriented you were. Once it was safe for the moment, Joel raced to check on you and Ellie, shoving your bags into your arms. Ellie as it turned out was no worse for wear because she’d been ducked down in the backseat out of sight of the hunters, and your only injuries were from the crash, a small gash on your forehead and a mild concussion from Joel’s estimate.

The three of you didn’t really have time to waste on first aid at that moment, so you’d simply pressed a bandana you had to you head and motioned to a large building a little ways away, whispering, “That’s probably our safest bet right now, we’ll get me fixed up once we know we are all safe.”

Joel had only hesitated for a second before agreeing. He led you and Ellie carefully to the building, safely making sure the three of you stayed out of sight. Once inside, you found that the building was an old hotel, and a nice one at that.

You quietly whistled and said, “This place is nice, could only dream of coming to a place like this before the outbreak.”

Joel just grunted as he looked around for useful things, finding a safe as he replayed, “Isn’t exactly nice anymore.”

You leaned against the counter beside where he was crouched trying to crack the safe and watched as Ellie looked around the lobby with an interest only a child could have. Sighing you shrugged and glanced over your shoulder as you heard the door creak open and replied, “I don’t know. If the outbreak did anything it did bring a certain beauty to the world. There’s something poetically beautiful in the sight of nature reclaiming what once belonged to it.”

Walking around the counter, Joel stood in front of you with a brow raised and shook his head, “Maybe that concussion is worse than I thought if you’re gettin’ all philosophical on me.”

With a huffed laugh you  rolled your eyes and just nodded to the stairs, “Come on.”

Your progression upward went smoothly until the fourth floor where per your group’s usual luck you found the stairs blocked with all kinds of debris. You never thought you would miss stairs, but as you picked your way through the floor scouting for a way up you wished that just once the three of you would pick a building that had a simple straightforward way to the top. 

You were pulled from your melancholic thoughts by Ellie’s raised voice, “Found a way up!”

You were a little thankful to be pulled away from your thoughts, the action slowly making the ever present headache since the crash throb. Quickly as possible you made your way across the hallway to the room Ellie had been looking through and smiled when you found a concert room with a stage and a beautiful grand piano. You made your way to the stage, noticing the way up Ellie found was on the corner of the stage where the above balcony’s railing had fallen. Gently you ran your fingers over the piano, a little sad to see such a magnificent creation in such disrepair. Looking up to Ellie who stood on the other side you made your way around and hip bumped her. 

“You know how to play?”

Ellie laughed and turned to you with a look that screamed she was judging you as she replied, “You really think they’d teach us to play piano in FEDRA school? Let alone find one that actually works,” she shook her head and slowly made her way to the edge of the stage, jumping down. “What about you? You play?”

You hummed and ran your fingers over the keys, cringing at the awful out of tune melody that played. You were stopped from answering though as your fingers fell upon an old rusted microphone. Picking it up you smiled and looked up right as Joel walked into the room. Instantly you laughed, and your grin spread as your eyes met Joel's stoic hazel.

Gently you twirled to the center of the stage, a little dizzy from the sudden movements, but didn’t let it deter you. Looking up at your crowd you heard Joel ask Ellie, “What on Earth are they doing?”

You saw Ellie answer with a shrug and that's when you started to sing the opening notes of the song you had been annoying Joel with for weeks. Ellie laughed and Joel tried protesting but you just carried on. You let yourself get carried away singing the lyrics and making a fool of yourself on stage with your poor excuse of dancing. 

It didn’t take Joel long to make his way to the stage, to stop you or figure out how to reach the balcony on the second floor you weren’t sure, but if you had to put money on it you’d guess both. The second he was within reach you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards you as you sang, “Go play your hand, you big talkin’ man. Make a big fool of yourself.”

Rolling his eyes Joel pulled away and you let him go only a second later as you spun yourself again the dizziness became too much and you found yourself stumbling with a gasp. Thankfully Joel had been close enough and had caught you before you fell and hit your head again on the stage.

He led you over to the piano bench and sat you down, taking the microphone from you as he said, “Sit and rest, before you hurt yourself more. Not exactly smart jumping and twirling around with a fresh concussion, nor making a bunch of noise when we are supposed to be keeping a low profile so we aren’t found by those hunters.”

With a sigh you just pouted, over not being able to finish your song but you listened to him and sat there and watched as Joel and Ellie pushed the grand piano over to the wall and watched as Ellie used it to jump up to the next floor. Joel followed but turned to you after getting onto the piano, motioning like he was going to help you up, which he did and then helped boost you to the next floor even if you didn’t need it, getting the feeling he was coddling you now.

Once he was up next to you again, you turned to him with a faux pout, “You said you looked forward to seeing me perform on a stage.”

With a huff, Joel gave you a look that said he was already tired of this situation and only replied, “Do it again when you aren’t a danger to yourself or the rest of us.”

3

Joel was infallible. At least you had always thought he was. He was the best survivor you knew, there was no question as to why he had gotten this far into the apocalypse, he just knew how to take care of himself and protect those around him. You had seen him get scrapes and bruises from fights and a couple of grazes from near misses from bullets. Never could you imagine that the man you held on such a high pedestal could fall as heavily as he had. You never thought you’d have to watch the man you’d found yourself caring for whole heartedly almost bleed out before your eyes. 

But here you are, watching him shiver from the cold and no doubt from the pain wracking his body. Watching him sleep in fits and gazing into glazed eyes when he was barely awake. It was hard to watch, but you tried to be strong for Ellie’s sake. You sometimes would catch her staring at Joel’s fitful body, worry echoing on her face before she threw up a wall on her emotions. You didn’t want to admit it, but of the two she was more helpful. She’d been more successful with finding food and hunting than you have been. Ellie is also the one that had managed to find and bring back the full stocked and sterile first aid kit that you’d used to suture and clean Joel’s wound with, even if the supplies hadn’t done too much for his weakening state. You had found that your main use was only keeping the three of you on track to Salt Lake City and acting as a nurse to Joel, getting him to drink water or broth without drowning him, something Ellie found she didn’t really have the patience or the bedside manner to do. 

Still you hid your worries, and shared optimistic thoughts with Ellie during the day even if you didn’t truly believe them yourself.You like to believe you’re helping Ellie by doing this, but in truth you think she’s doing the same for you, just putting on a brave face to make you feel better. 

Each night the two of you would take turns taking watch, Ellie always going first, insisting you get rest and not truly trusting you to wake her for the second watch- which was fair because the one time she had agreed to let you take first watch you hadn’t had the heart to wake the exhausted girl to which she’d given you the silent treatment for the next day. 

It was only during your watches, once you knew for sure Ellie was asleep, her breaths evening out and her body relaxing, that you allowed your mask to slip, to let your worries out. Each night that passed you swore Joel got paler, that he looked closer to death’s door. You hate watching him wither away like this, hate seeing the strongest person you know, your rock in this world, fall and not be able to help him even though your heart screams at you. You have found yourself sobbing helplessly into your hand in attempts to stay quiet a few times, the hurt and worry building up inside you until it exploded. You hated that you felt weak, but truely what could you do when your strength lay slowly dying on a nasty old twin sized mattress? 

Tonight though the tears don’t come. Instead you find yourself feeling empty in your grief as you sit beside Joel’s head gently combing your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion. You weren’t sure if it was meant to sooth Joel or yourself, but either way the action seemed to be grounding you and it could be your imagination but it seemed that Joel’s face seemed somewhat more relaxed so you didn’t stop. 

You aren’t sure when, but you caught yourself humming at some point and you couldn’t help but smile and jokingly think to yourself, ‘if anything is going to get a reaction out of him, it’ll be hearing me annoy him with this song again.’

You let yourself hum it a few times, making sure to stay quiet, not wanting to wake Ellie who’d become somewhat of a light sleeper, but eventually you had to laugh and whisper, “Yeah, go to Jackson, and go comb your hair,” as you ran your fingers through Joel’s hair. 

You let yourself sing a few more lines, not really paying attention to anything but where your fingers continued their path through his hair, so you were surprised when you felt your free hand, which you had just had laying on Joel’s chest, be enclosed in a rougher calloused hand. Pausing your singing you looked down in surprise and found Joel’s lips turned upward just slightly, and his hand enveloping your own in a loose hold. 

With a watery smile, knowing that just moving his hand had to have had taken a lot of energy from him, so you clutched it tighter in your hold as you turned back to running your fingers through his hair as you whispered to him, “Yeah, you go to Jackson, you big talkin’ man. And I’ll be waitin’ in Jackson,” before trailing back off into a hum. 

4

It was over, all of it was finally over. The fireflies were gone, something you would never have to worry about again. Joel was strong again, Ellie was safe, and all three of you were all back in Jackson settling down and making a home for yourselves with Tommy and Maria and all of the townsfolk. And you couldn’t be happier. Everything in life just felt right for the first time since the outbreak. It was odd in a way, but it was so freeing that you didn’t care. You never could have let yourself dream about a life like this, of having a family like this that you could allow yourself to care for. You didn’t think something like this would ever be allowed to live, to thrive in a world so torn apart by a deadly infection and the worst of humanity. But you found it, and you let yourself bask in it. You let yourself be happy.

When the three of you all arrived back in Jackson it had taken a while for each of you to all settle in and relax. It was so foreign after spending months fighting and protecting each other's backs from every danger imaginable. Ellie had taken about a month to situate herself in the town, finding it a bit easier with teens her age being so interested in being her friend and getting to know her as the new kid in town. She settled into the garage and made it her own. Watching her have her own space was a little hard after having her in your sights 24/7 for so long, but you knew she needed it, that she deserved it after everything she went through. You and Joel stayed in the house together, both unwilling to be to far from the teen after everything that went down in Salt Lake City at the hospital and finding the bond between the two of you keeping you together. You each had your own rooms though Joel’s only got used every once in a while, many nights bringing him to your room when your nightmares wake him up. His own nightmares occasionally brought him to you as well, as he found comfort in not being alone, in waking up to find you laying there with soft breaths next to him.

Joel took about a little over a month to settle into the community but once Tommy got him in on the patrol board, he immediately found his place. Letting Joel have some control over where and how the patrols went allowed him to feel a sense of peace. It played into his strong suit of needing to know that the people he cared about were safe and taken care of. Seeing Joel let himself relax and fill the role really warmed your heart, happy to know Joel was finally at peace after so many years of functioning just in fight-or-flight mode. 

You, though, took the longest to find your place in Jackson. You didn’t slack, you jumped from job to job filling any empty position in any area that they would let you, but the truth was you didn’t have a strength or a useful skill that could be applied somewhere within the town. You could hunt, but you were not the best at it. You were decent at growing things but the greenhouse didn’t really need anymore volunteers. And while you did love children you neither had the patience or the knowledge to be teaching. So as time passed and Joel and Ellie found their rhythms in the town you found yourself feeling like you were floundering a bit, drowning in a pool of water where your feet should be touching the ground. It wasn’t until you were doing a patrol with Joel a few months after settling back in Jackson that he brought up that the doctor in town was looking to train a new nurse. He had brought it up nonchalantly, but you could tell by the way he glanced out of the corner of his eye that he had a reason behind bringing it up. Later you managed to weasel it out of him, to which he simply replied, “I may not have been all there, but I remember how well you played nurse for me. I think you’d be good at it.”

He had been right of course, you had taken to the position like a duck to water and within no time you found yourself finding your own path in Jackson, letting yourself finally fall into content happiness that Joel and Ellie had also found. In no time at all the three of you all found yourself falling into a routine, each of you revolving around the other two and finding ways to still stay close and not get too busy to not be able to know what the others were up to. Your favorite day in the routine was every three days you’d all have a family meal, Tommy and Maria joining the three of you every other meal.

It was on one of those nights that Joel had come home late from his patrol. You had already started making dinner and had simply shooed him upstairs to take a shower while you finished cooking, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Ellie burst in the back door groaning about being starving. 

You weren’t sure how long Joel took to get cleaned up, you had zoned out into your thoughts shortly after hearing the shower turn on, but after what you knew only had to have been a handful of minutes you heard him coming back downstairs, and when he came into the kitchen you simply motioned to the table, asking if he’d set it for you as you had dinner already almost finished. 

You however didn’t expect to hear Joel turn on your little portable CD player on the counter and skip through the songs as he said, “Found you something’ while on patrol today.”

You hummed in question, curiosity over taking you as you glanced over your shoulder at him before turning back to stirring what you were cooking. Only a few seconds later you paused as the all to familiar notes floated around the kitchen and a soft smile found its way onto your face. Gently you started swaying as you cooked, but almost as soon as you had started you found a pair of arms wrapped around your middle as Joel pulled you away from the stove, as his deep accented voice sang, “We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson ever since the fire went out. I’m goin’ to Jackson, I’m gonna mess around. Yeah I’m goin’ to Jackson, look out Jackson town.”

Laughing joyfully you join in right as June Carter does and turn to face Joel sticking your spoon in his face as you back up towards the stove to turn it down as you sang, “Well, go on down to Jackson. Go ahead and wreck your health. Go play your hand, you big talkin’ man, Make a big fool of yourself. Yeah, go to Jackson, go comb your hair.”

With a grin Joel grabs the spoon from your hand, laying it on the spoon rest, before grabbing your hand as he picked up his part of the duet once more, “Honey, I’m gonna snowball Jackson, see if I care. When I breese into that city, people gonna stoop and bow. All them women gonna make me teach ‘em what they don’t know how. I’m going to Jackson. You turn ‘n’ loosen my coat, ‘cause I’m goin’ to Jackson.”

Swaying in Joel’s arms as he sang was perfect and you wished more than anything that you could pause time right there and just enjoy this for all eternity. As his part finished once more, Joel twirled you, which you used to sway away from him as you came in singing, “”Goodbye,” that’s all she wrote. But they’ll laugh at you in Jackson and I’ll be dancin’ on a Pony Keg. They’ll lead you ‘round town like the scalded hound, with your tail hooked between your legs. Yeah, go to Jackson, you big talkin’ man. And I’ll be waitin’ in Jackson behind my Jaypan fan.”

You managed to stay out of Joel’s reach until the end laughing as the two of you joined together twirling and dancing around as you sang together.

“Well, now, we got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson ever since the fire went out. I’m goin’ to Jackson and that’s a fact. Yeah, we’re going to Jackson, ain’t never comin’ back.”

Joel’s grin was bigger than you’ve ever seen, your happiness radiating off eachother as he swung you out and brought you back in as the two of you finished the song together, eyes never leaving the other’s, “Well, we go married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. Honey, we’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson ever since the fire went out.”

At the very end Joel surprised you by dipping you low, which pulled a loud gasping laugh from you before he pressed a small kiss to your lips before pulling you back up. You couldn’t wipe the grin off of your face once you were back on your feet, not even when two sets of claps came from the doorway along with a quick retching noise. Whipping your head around you felt yourself heat up in embarrassment to see Tommy and Maria standing there grinning at the two of you while Ellie wrinkled her nose and called the two of you gross.

  “Hope the two of you didn’t burn our dinner while you were too busy being all lovey dovey,” Ellie griped while plopping down into her seat at the table.

“As a matter of fact I turned the stove off at the beginning of the song, so don’t worry, your food will be just fine,” you replied carrying the pot to the table as Joel passed around plates and silverware, taking it from you once you reached the table with a soft loving smile which you returned, making Ellie groan about losing her appetite even though she was smiling. All the while Tommy and Maria simply enjoyed the entertainment, though Maria did lean over and whisper, “Why can’t you be romantic, like that?”

To which Tommy grinned and simply replied while filling her glass with water, “You want me to try?”

With a sigh, Maria met his gaze and said, “No, I’m not sure I can hand whatever you think would be romantic.”

[cmc-linguistics]

Zeghenian (Ζᾳχῃνική [zdɛː.ɣɛ̃ːː.ɲi.kɛː])

First conlang of 2024! WOOHOO! Ðis one is a posteriori, but ðis time, it's based on Ancient Greek. So wiþout furðer ado...

Phonology and orthography

/p t k b d g m n ɸ θ s x ħ r l sd ps ks i iː y yː u uː ɪ e eː ø o oː ɛ ɛː ɛːː œː ɔ ɔː ɔːː a aː/ [ɲ ŋ c ɟ β ð z ʃ ʒ ç ʝ ɣ r̥] <π τ κ β δ γ μ ν φ θ σ χ ʽ ρ λ ζ ψ ξ ῐ ῑ ῠ ῡ/υι υ ευ ηυ ε ει οι ο ου αι ᾳ/η ῃ ῳ ᾰυ ᾱυ/ω ωυ ᾰ ᾱ> <νι γγ κι γι VφV VθV VσV σι VσιV χι VχιV VχV ῥ>

Example Sentence

Ἐγώ, Δημοσθένης ὁ Κρητικός, ᾠκοδόμησᾰ αὐτό τὸν οἶκον. Ðis translates to "I, Demosþenes ðe Cretan, built ðis house".

Pronunciation

[e.ˈ gɔː | dɛː.moz.ˈ ðẽ.nɛːs ħo krɛː.ti.ˈ kos | œː.ko.ˈ do.mɛː.sa ɔ.ˈ to tõ ˈ ø.kõ]

Gloss

1S.NOM, Demosthenes DET.DEF.M.NOM.SG Cretan, build.AOR.ACT.IND.1S self DET.DEF.N.ACC.SG house.ACC.SG

Summary

Well, ðere you have it! Ðis conlang took around an hour or so to fully þink out, and it turned out great. See you next time!

[lizziexmeow]

END OF THE DAY SUMMARY UPDATE (240814) LINKS

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[lowpolyshadow]

okay here's my final horizons review that nobody asked for :) the short summary is an overall like 8/10 personally with high highs and low lows to average it all out there, but like . god those highs are high

speaking of i played on hard mode for the entire thing and did not change it a single time so this also influences my perception but like im a loser tryhard sweaty gamer so that probably just added to the positives for me ngl JGKLASDFJL;KS okay anyways

amy gameplay 8/10, tails gameplay 8/10, knuckles gameplay 6/10

i am SO FUCKING SERIOUS WHEN I SAY KNUCKLES WOULD BE LIKE 9/10 IF HE HAD FREE CLIMBING AND WASN'T LIMITED TO THE RED SPOTS like it makes sense in this scenario since he's literally free dlc and like the game wasn't really made with knuckles in mind therefore if he was given free range to climb and shit like SA2 it might be weird or just lead to things you super weren't intended to do etc. BUT like. im just saying. in a perfect world he would be able to climb on all surfaces and that would be more than enough for me to forgive his glide's super wide turns (i already forgive it because it makes sense it's just like. from a player feel perspective)

i can't forgive some of those awful camera angles though it's the same issue i have with sonic when he wall climbs, wall climbing just has bad camera angles that i greatly dislike u__u also i think i was most looking forward to playing as knuckles so i was just kinda disappointed he isn't more punchy i want PUNCHY

amy was super fun to play and would've been a 9 but i am in fact a hammer believer, i know they like at least bring it up in game why she doesn't hammer more but i AM a hammer enjoyer and i think if she had more swingy hammer movesets it would be like. chef's kiss i love her floatiness and tarot cards

tails is tails he's so broken LMAOOOO and the wrench attack shit is genuinely really good and so funny, his entire thing fits perfectly with the fact that he's like, not really a Fighter fighter guy and matches with previous tails gameplay .... but i do still want a homing attack for specifically objects not enemies or something. idk that'd be hard to handle sometimes but that's my single grievance i thought tails was really good he's so cute :)

in general i wish all 3 had more combat options but again. it's free dlc. in the future if they do like sonic adventure 3 or whatever then i'll be more harsh for not having more moves for them like sonic but this is free dlc

sonic gameplay 8.5/10

i'm crazy and i thought the towers were a lot of fun, my favorite WOULD'VE BEEN tower 2 except the pink squares not respawning is genuinely like girl what's wrong with you + tower 5 eked out being my favorite anyways in the end

my favorites in order were 5, 2, 4, 1, and 3 (3 was by far the easiest but also like . i am so not into the wall climbing camera JGKALSDJFKLASDJ and also i had the funny glitch where the boostpad clipped me out of the tower which like, funny but now i have to climb the tower again) i thought these were super fun platforming challenges with the only grievance being they're literally WAY more difficult than anything from base game and so the sudden jump is like actually insane expecting little timmy to play frontiers on like hard mode which is very easy, and then doing this

the combat trials were disappointing bc like. .. the first one had some difficulty to it and then the rest were snzzzz and then suddenly MASTER KING KOCO BABYYYYY but again im insane. and deranged. i thought a time/ring limit boss rush was sick as fuck and perfect parry is what i wished the actual base game parry was so like. yeah. but again the boss fights weren't Made for perfect parry so especially wyvern, figuring out was like harder than necessary since this is something they throw at you with no warning or prior practice in the base game or anything

i had fun though. i had gamer fun and joy. so like <- sick in the head i just felt the thrill of battle and violence and any time i figured out the parry timing/got consistent with it and i was like being the ultimate speedrun gamer it's like. YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also kellin quinn's vocals carried me because god the music never gets old dude that shit pumped me up (helps i only had to fight knight twice and the problem child was just wyvern lol)

AND THE FINAL BOSS .... supreme still lowkey is a very very very very mid boss. and the new THE END doesn't change it a Ton because like after you see the sickass cutscene and stuff, it becomes kind of a mid boss again but with really hype animations and all .... like it's not a hard fight. it's just ... jank .... the controls feel kinda wonky when you're trying to target the tube .... the camera is weird because it's so easy for sonic to not be visible from all the trees, so while parrying the meteors isn't hard it's just like ... why would you do this to me

final boss fight itself is like 7/10 carried by the visuals and setting, but then the end of the boss fight is like WHOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH LETS GOOOOO I FUCKING LOVE SONIC THE HEDGEHOG YYEAHHHHHH YEAHHHHHHHHHHH so like overall good dlc imo

[therealmofamorus]

Type: Ask

AU: Original Male Stud AU

Summary of the Question: Which sister ks hotter Toshiro? Karin or Yuzu?

“I will not undignified myself to answer this boorish question.” Toshiro replied with a deadpan expression. Refusing to comment the attractiveness of either Karin or Yuzu Kurosaki.

[ghostofwriting]

in London: I break down cause you're not around

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating

Note: Just a random drabble idea that popped into my head. Please don't come at me for more cheating okay just call me Taylor Jenkins Reid because apparently, that's all I can write. Absolutely not KS related. KS Chapter 4 coming soon.

Word Count: 1,346

Summary: Rafe probably

"But you're in London, and I break down 'Cause it's not fair that you're not around

This is when the feeling sinks in I don't wanna miss you like this Come back, be here"

It’s humid out, everything feels damp, her baby blue dress sticking to her uncomfortably. The slight breeze makes her shiver due to the contrast of the heat when it touches her skin. She can’t quite breathe.

She’s outside on the terrace, the stone railing covered in pink flowers with green vines running underneath them. The stairs lead to a garden and a small maze. If you walk past the tree line, you’ll hit the ocean, she can hear the waves crashing.

She needed to step out and take a breather. There are too many people inside, it feels too crowded, and all her past lives come back to haunt her. She shouldn’t even be here. She should be back in London where she started her new life. Far away from any reminders of what could have been. 

He’s been watching her all night. The partygoers had been dancing, mingling and catching up, celebrating the happy couple and everywhere she turned she caught his eye. From the corner of her eye, or through the reflection of a mirror. He would look at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his drink. She had been avoiding him, not only tonight but for the better part of the year. Ever since they broke up. 

He had tried to text and call and beg his way back into her life but it wasn’t something that he could be part of anymore. When he had tried to follow her to London, she told him that never in a million years would she forgive him. There is nothing he could do to fix what he tore to shreds. 

They had been together for years. She trusted him with everything she had in her and he betrayed that trust by sleeping with her best friend. Why? She had asked him the night she walked away. Why would you sleep with her? He had no answer, no vocabulary that could make this better. 

His friends had told her that it was because she had laid into him too hard one time and made him so angry that he wanted revenge. She wasn’t perfect, she knew that he had shit going on with his dad and that the drugs didn’t help either. He wasn’t necessarily stable, but she didn’t think he could hurt her just to hurt her. They told her he regretted it immediately and swore them all to secrecy. He threatened them with god knows what and they vouched for him. 

She had started to suspect something happened between the two when they started acting weird around each other. Before the shift, they never avoided each other, they were civil and they could hold conversations. After it happened, they were never seen in the same room and if on the rare occasion they were, no eye contact would be made and no words exchanged. Sometimes on those rare occasions, she would watch her best friend and see how she looked at him. Her eyes softened and a small smile appeared on her face only to be wiped off as soon as she made eye contact with her. She would brush it off and pretend that she was seeing things. At some point, her best friend pulled away from the friend group and stopped talking to her. She was hurt because she didn’t know why and never received an explanation. 

When the guilt started to eat at her, that’s when she came forward. Five months after the act was committed. She looked at her in disbelief as she explained herself and told her that she was sorry, that she was in love with him. In love with her boyfriend. Her best friend and her boyfriend. How cliche? How did she let that happen to her?

He had been looking for her, trying to find her to stop her from telling the truth. It was too late when she found her. She was silent, staring at the crying girl. The one that had been her best friend. She looked at him and started to back away, 

“Wait!” He had yelled after her, “Please, listen!” He rann up behind her, reaching for her arm, unsuccessfully as she kept walking. 

He had followed her through the parking lot trying to stop her from getting into her car. Tears glistening in his eyes. 

She wouldn’t listen. There was no coming back from this. She didn’t say a single word as she got into her car and drove away from the boy that she thought was her forever. 

She didn’t want to see any of them ever again, she cried to her mother, and together they decided that she would go to London and start her law career there. Her mom would do anything to get her away from the boy she thought was a bad influence. 

That very next morning she was on a plane to London. He called and called and called. Until she changed her number. Her mom told her that he had tried to find out where she was and tried to find her. She had loyal friends back home, they proved that to her by never telling him where she had gone. 

And just like that she had disappeared for months on end. No trace of her. 

Until now. 

“You look beautiful.” His voice is something she wishes she could forget. She’s disappointed to know that she remembers it exactly.

“What are you doing here?” She stares at her hands, not sparing him a glance.

“It’s my sister's rehearsal dinner.” She rolls her eyes, glad that he can’t see the reaction. 

“I meant out here.” 

“I want to talk to you.” She should have known he would follow her outside. He was never one to give up easily. 

“There’s nothing to say.”

“I have things to say. You disappeared and never let me explain myself.” She looks up from her hands now, still not at him.

“That’s because I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say. I don’t care about anything you have to say.”

“I love you. I fucked up, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that.”

She doesn’t face him, choosing to look at the scenery instead. The trees, the garden, if she looks far enough into the distance she sees the ocean.

“I was so angry with you and I wasn’t thinking. I will never do something like that again, I regretted it immediately.” He won’t ever get a chance to do that again, at least not with her.

“I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t then. And I don’t now.”

She hears him sniffle, he places his hand next to hers on the railing. She sees as his finger twitches, itching to touch her. 

“Please, tell me how to fix this.” She looks at him now, his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“There is nothing you could ever do to fix this.” He clenches his jaw and she notices how it flutters. 

“Please. Come back.” 

“I wish I could. Don’t you get it? I wish I could just forget everything you did. I wish I never found out because I love you, I still do. Even after everything.” His eyes fill with hope. 

“I love myself more.” He deflates, looking down at his hands in front of him. 

She feels a presence come up behind them and turns slightly. She sees who it is and knows it’s her time to go. 

She doesn’t spare her ex-best friend a glance as she walks past her into the building where the party is still in full swing. 

“Rafe.” She hears her say. She doesn’t turn around, not wanting to hurt more than she already is. 

“Stay away from me, Kiara.” He snaps. He leaves Kie standing on the balcony as he climbs down the steps two at a time and towards his car.

Just a few more days of pretending to be okay. In less than a week she would be back in London. And she would be able to breathe again.