#That shit will tell you it's got a real life lion's heart squeezed inside

[muzzlemouths]

Walked onto your blog to tell you a silly thing and got distracted as hell by shinies and tasty treats. Anyway I was thinking of DMD a lot today when I stumbled into Bath and Body Works and saw their new stuff is like 70's /early 80's themed. There's even a lil smiling sun thing and LOTS of Day/Night themes. So now I have to ask if the Boys can smell/had a perfume or skincare line.

It took me as long as it did to get to this ask because the first thing I did upon receiving it was look up these new 70s themed items LMAO

To answer your question - yes, they can smell! (and taste, for that matter, but that won't become relevant for another few chapters still)

While there was never a skincare line, both mascots did have several products up that alley! Sun's most coveted line was a perfume named Kiss of Dew (Perennial Sunflower, Clothesline Linen, Vibrant Rosewood, and "Essence of Spring"), while Moon's was a cologne by the name of "Nova Nights" (Teakwood Embers, Fair Goji Liqueur, Jimsonweed, and "Midnight Comets")

Both have makeup lines as well (predictably, with Sun's being warm colors and Moon's being cool) which were equally popular. Despite not having 'true' skin, both of them loved playing around with their own products and would constantly do each other's makeup before each shift. You know that one meme? Yeah. Every single day.

It hasn't happened in a while, now, because both have lost the spirit for it. There's no point in getting all dressed up for an empty mall.

[nah-she-didnt]

I’ll just choose a random one! What about... 17? From the promp list xx

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I’m sorry it took so long. I just could not get the right angle on it. I actually wrote an entire Hinny response to this, but I accidentally deleted it (womp womp). Anyway, please enjoy this Jily moment! 

Read on AO3!

-- 

All Your Moments

The atmosphere inside the common room was like that of a poorly-attended funeral. Forlorn students milled about the room, still wrapped in Gryffindor scarves and clad in gold and crimson face paint. A lone banner with a large, moving lion lay crumpled in the corner, forgotten after the devastating loss to Slytherin. 

Lily sat among her friends in front of the crackling fire. Peter hugged his knees to his chest as he stared dismayed into the flames. Mary and Dorcas began a sullen game of wizard chess, prodding their pieces around the board half-heartedly. Sirius and Remus sat in the same squishy armchair, Remus’ head resting against Sirius’ chest. 

Sirius sighed loudly. “Thank god I got disowned, I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of this from Reg if I still lived at home.” 

Remus laughed, but Peter’s face remained unchanged. “I can’t believe we fucking lost,” he muttered into his knees. 

Remus threw a pillow in his direction. “Buck up, Pete. It’s not like you lost, just your team.” 

Peter gaped at Remus. “You know, Remus, you’ve never really understood the beautiful game that is quidditch.” 

“At least he understands his Transfiguration homework,” Sirius snapped. 

“Boys, boys,” Remus sighed, throwing a sharp look in Sirius’ direction, “let’s not fight, yeah? Tonight’s depressing enough.” 

Lily glanced towards the boys dormitory. James had disappeared up the stairs after the game and had not resurfaced since. She knew he had to be hurting right now. Quidditch had been a massive part of his life ever since he started at Hogwarts, and to lose the championship game as captain in his seventh year had to be devastating. At this thought, Lily hoisted herself up from between the squashy couch cushions and stood, shoulders squared, facing the boy’s dormitory. 

“I’m going up there,” she said confidently and moved towards the staircase. 

Sirius caught her arm. “Lily, no,” he said gravely, “you haven’t been dating Prongs very long, but let me tell you. He is an insufferable crybaby when he loses at quidditch.”

Lily scoffed. “Oh come on, he can’t be that bad.” 

“No, he’s worse,” Peter grimaced, “remember when they lost to Hufflepuff in fourth year and he disappeared into the forest for four hours?” 

“Maybe he needs a bit of cheering up,” smirked Mary as her knight decimated Dorcas’ pawn.

Lily glared at Mary. “I’m not going to shag him out of his misery, but thanks for the suggestion.” 

Mary shrugged. “It would work, that’s all I’m saying.” 

Lily very much doubted Mary’s words as she climbed the stairs to James’ room. She remembered that loss against Hufflepuff. James moped around the castle for a full week, barely speaking in classes, which at the time had been a blessing. Now she felt her heart drop when she recalled the look on James’ face as he dismounted his broom on the quidditch pitch, the Slytherin players celebrating and hoisting the Quidditch Cup in the background. 

Lily reached James’ door and knocked softly. There was no reply. 

“James?” she called tentatively, knocking, again, “are you alright? We thought you might like to join us downstairs.” 

There was no response. She knocked again. 

“James, I know you’re upset, but please come down. It’s not the same down there without you.” She pushed open the door, but the dorm was empty. 

“That was fast,” Dorcas grinned as Lily approached the group again, “bit of a quick draw, is he?” 

“Shut up,” she snapped, “Remus, I need the map.” 

Remus frowned. “What makes you think I have it?” 

“Because that map is like your baby, now hand it over.” 

Remus grumbled but reached into his pocket for the map. Lily snatched it out of his hand and started to scan the corridors for James.

“He must have slipped out under the invisibility cloak,” she murmured as she searched. 

“I’m telling you,” Peter sighed, “he’s off to the forest. Someday we’ll tell our kids, ‘oh yeah, I remember James Potter. He was a giant sore loser who marched into the forest one day, never to be seen again.’” 

Lily ignored this, her eyes sweeping over the Hogwarts grounds. Finally, she spotted him. “Gotcha.” 

She triumphantly stuffed the map into her pocket. Remus flinched at the way she manhandled his craftsmanship, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. 

“Right, I’m off to find my crybaby boyfriend, pray that I don’t get caught by Filch.” The others echoed calls of luck as she made her way out of the dormitory. 

The castle was dark and silent as she crept along the walls. Every shadow was Filch, every squeaking mouse was Mrs. Norris. She realized about halfway to the entrance hall that she was in a stupidly vulnerable position. She knew that if she were caught she could just say she was out of bed on official Head Girl business. However, if she ran into any Slytherins on her way out, she would almost certainly be outnumbered. She forced herself not to think about that possibility and pressed on. 

She stopped just before the great oak doors to the castle and pulled the map out of her pocket again. There he was, still sitting motionless in the middle of the quidditch pitch. Drama queen, she thought as she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. No, she needed to compose herself and support him now. 

The night air was crisp and warm, not quite the oppressive heat of summer but still pleasant enough without her cloak. She traipsed through the grass damp with mist and across the grounds towards the pitch. 

She didn’t know as much about quidditch as some of her friends, but even she could tell that James had played badly that day. He seemed distracted, like he was always one step behind his teammates. In one particularly bad moment James had turned his head to bark orders at his keeper and completely missed the bludger that soared right into his throwing arm. He played out the rest of the game, but he hadn’t been able to make any more goals. 

Lily halted at the entrance to the pitch and scanned the dark grass. The pitch appeared empty, but Lily knew better. 

“Oi, Potter!” she shouted into the night. 

A moment of silence passed. Then a floating head popped into view. 

“Over here,” he called. She could hear the defeat in his voice. 

She walked the length of the pitch until she was level with James, then plopped to the ground beside him. The water from the grass beneath them soaked through her knee high socks. 

“You don’t play fair,” he muttered miserably, “I came out here to mope away from everyone, but you got the map off Remus, didn’t you?”

She grimaced. “I didn’t want you to be all alone.” 

James glanced up to the goal posts in front of them. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ll never play another proper game of quidditch. The whole time leading up to the game all I could think about was winning, but I never thought to just enjoy my last moments up there.” 

Lily nodded and reached out to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry, James. You’ll play quidditch again someday.” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, eyes still pointed to the skies, “but it won’t be the same. I’ll get over it, I suppose, but I wish I’d played well enough to remember it fondly.” 

Lily didn’t know what to say to this. She knew she couldn’t disagree with him. He knew as well as anyone that he played poorly that day, and any attempt to contradict him seemed feeble. She offered him a small smile. 

“You know, you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re an incredible man. You’ll do things that are much more important than winning the quidditch cup.” 

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “That doesn’t help as much as I’m sure you intended, but thank you.” 

Lily tugged at him. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Everyone’s waiting in the Common Room.” 

James shook his head. “No, I just want to remember this place for a bit. But could you stay with me? Honestly, after this shit day, I just want a hug.”

She nodded, and they laid back in the grass together, gazing up at the sky. She rested her head against his chest and draped an arm across his waist. They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the light wind whip across the open field. Lily could feel water soaking the back of her sweater now, but she didn’t care. 

She never knew how nice it would be to share his failures with him as well as his triumphs. Here he was, solemn and dejected, but still open. She realized in that moment how much she wanted from him. She wanted all his moments, his great booming laughter and his silent disappointment. Every new emotion with him felt right. 

James finally smiled over at her through the blades of grass that separated them. “I’m a real joy to be around right now, I’m sure.”

Lily laughed. “It’s alright, I like it out here with you. And you never stay down for long, you know. Even now you’re joking around like everything is alright. That’s one of the things I love about you.” 

James’ smile slid from his face and was replaced with surprise. She’d never said that word to him before, but it felt natural in the moment. Even now she realized she did not regret her words. 

“You love that about me?” he whispered through the darkness.

She nodded softly. “Yeah. I love you, James. I do.” 

James blinked stupidly for a moment as if he were processing her words. Then he sat up quickly. “Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing, “you’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?” 

Lily laughed as she sat up too. “No, I mean it. I love you, James Potter.” 

James sat stunned for a moment. Then he jumped to his feet and whooped with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said, also clambering to her feet, “what exactly is funny about that?” 

James dived at her, picked her up, and spun her around. When her feet landed on the ground once more he held her close and pressed his forehead to hers. “What’s funny, Lily Evans, is that I never in all my life thought you would say those words to me.” 

Lily rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft,” she said, trying and failing to look annoyed, “you must have known.” 

“Never,” he beamed down at her then kissed her gently. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes as they swayed for a moment, gripping each other tightly. 

Lily suddenly broke the kiss. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What? Oh! I love you too, of course,” he grinned, “I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you.” 

“That’s more like it,” she laughed, then tackled him back to the ground.

[rainforestgeek]

If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 14 “Punching Empty Space”

Part 13

AO3 link

--

Two Lions swept into the Castle and landed with twin vibrating thuds. Pidge planted herself in front of the Black Lion, ready to give Keith a piece of her mind for running off. Again. Red was the one who bowed and opened her mouth first, though, revealing her paladin.

“LANCE!” Hunk scooped up the figure who appeared from the Red cockpit in a giant hug, very clearly without thinking because the gasping, skinny teenage boy in his arms was definitely Keith.

“Actually, it’s me.”

“Wha - Keith!” Hunk released his hold for a split second then drew him in again for an even tighter hug. “I’m so glad to see you, too! Just, uh, where is Lance?”

A sharp but playful whistle sounded behind to Pidge’s left. “Over here, buddy.” Pidge and Hunk turned to see Lance in his blue armor, leaning cockily against the wall at the top of the Black Lion’s gangplank.

Hunk looked between Lance and Keith, the Black Lion and the Red Lion, jaw on the floor and arms gesticulating. “What - did you - when - are you - ? ” Allura meanwhile stood rooted to the spot, equally dumbfounded. Pidge was vaguely worried the princess’s eyeballs would fall out of their sockets, but was mostly preoccupied with the source of her own shock.

“ Holy shit, Lance, are you the Black Paladin now?” she blurted out.

He smirked at her. He pushed himself off the wall and walked toward them. His eyes stayed locked on hers, until Hunk broke the connection by intercepting Lance with a high five and a bro hug. “That is AWESOME man! Congrats!”

“Thanks Hunk!” Pidge wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Lance this happy before.

Allura walked up to stand beside her. She murmured, “Honestly, I...did not expect this.”

Pidge shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m surprised, but also I’m not surprised, you know?”

“No. That was a contradiction of terms and the universal translators don’t seem to be helpful right now.”

“I guess computers are fallible sometimes,” Pidge sighed.

Suddenly she was face-to-face with Lance. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”

Why??? She wondered. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Tightened his grip for a second then suddenly let go. He cleared his throat and turned to Allura. “Allura, I…”

Pidge didn’t want to be here for this. Instead she stalked to where Keith stood with Hunk and Matt. She threw her arms around him with the force of a well-aimed punch. “You’re a stupid hypocrite.”

“Uhh. What?”

“Last year you got all pissy when I tried to leave to look for my family, and here you did the exact same quiznacking thing,” she growled. “Stop vanishing. We need you, you dumbass.”

Keith hesitantly returned the hug. “No more. I promise. And I’m sorry.”

Pidge gritted her teeth against the tears threatening to well up in her throat. Now was not the time. She let go and glared at him with crossed arms. “Good. The universe needs Voltron.”

--

It hurt when Lance felt Pidge walk away but he also kind of appreciated it. “Allura, I...I’m so, so sorry for losing my temper with you.”

The princess folded her hands in front of her. She was surrounded by a semi-calm sadness like an invisible blue mist. “So am I. I should have listened to you, Lance. I’ve just felt so overworked lately and.” Allura paused. “And I miss having you as my friend. I hate that I broke your heart Lance, I truly do. Everything has been so odd between us.”

Lance’s throat stuffed up. He missed his friend, too. She looked vulnerable right now, stressed out and overwhelmed. She looked so human.

( Okay, we really need an alien-inclusive word for “human,” Lance thought.)

It hit him that he loved the girl in front of him but it was the same way he loved Hunk. Lingering butterflies still scraped the insides of his stomach for the imaginary goddess he’d fallen for last year because Allura looked just like her. But that girl wasn’t real. Allura, his friend, was real.

He took her hand and squeezed. “Hey. We’re all under tons of pressure and we both lashed out. It’s okay; take it from somebody who messes up all the time. I’m not going anywhere. We’re Voltron and nothing can break that.”

She smiled at him. “Congratulations on being chosen by the Black Lion.”

“Oh, man, that reminds me. Guys!” Lance called everyone’s attention. “Now that we have all five of us again, let’s get to why I dragged Keith back here in the first place. It’s time to find Shiro.”

--

Hope warred with dread while Keith sat in Red’s cockpit. Her little rumbling growl that pervaded the ship steadied his nerves.

Hunk’s face blinked onto his viewscreen. “Am I the only one worried that we won’t even be able to form Voltron?”

“Not to be a pessimist, but last time we had a Lion shake up we couldn’t,” Pidge agreed.

Then don’t be a pessimist , Keith thought.

“Last time most of the team got moved,” he said instead. He didn’t want this getting into Lance’s head. “This change isn’t as big. This has to work.”

“Keith’s right,” Lance said. “The five of us have worked together before. We all know our Lions and we all have a common goal. We can handle a new formation, especially if it means finishing this war and getting Shiro back. I know this is new but we’ve gotta trust each other now more than ever. Who’s with me?”

“ Yeah!” The team chorused. If anyone had told Keith last year that Lance would be leading the universe’s most elite team of warriors he would’ve scoffed at them and walked away. Now Lance seemed more comfortable in the Black cockpit than Keith had ever been.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting with trepidation for the bad jokes to start.

“FORM VOLTRON!”

He and Red spun naturally into position as though he’d never left the right arm. Green locked into position beside him and Blue below him. All four other Lions and all four other paladins flashed into his mind as they attached cleanly together as Voltron. He felt a surge of giddiness from Lance. He opened a private channel.

“Keep it together, Lance.”

“ Oh screw you, mullet. ” Keith was 90% sure that was supposed to be a friendly insult. But now wasn’t the time to rile up the admittedly easy-to-rile Black paladin. He needed to focus on making contact with his first Black paladin.

“Okay, guys,” Lance said. “Shiro is still bonded to Voltron, and that means we can contact him. We’re all connected. We just have to focus.”

Keith closed his eyes for good measure. He could feel all his teammates, minds working in tandem with their Lions, Lions working in tandem with each other. Hunk’s blunt, steady strength. Lance’s force of nature of an attitude. Allura’s elegant precision. Pidge’s bright and sharp vision. He let his energy flow into Voltron with theirs, the team’s collective power melding into one great superweapon.

With all their strength combined, Keith felt something else - some one else - there with them like an echo in a cave. The tension coming from his teammates told him they felt it, too. Time ceased to exist and he could almost hear a voice.

Getting an arm chopped off with a laser sword would have been less jarring than the alarm that tore their concentration apart. Keith jolted upright, eyes flying open, and the feeling slipped through his fingers.

“OH COME ON! What the fuck?” Pidge yelled.

“Sorry, Paladins.” Coran’s face dominated the viewscreen. “Our tense situation has been dialed up to an emergency! The Blade of Marmora agents have located Haggar’s fleet headed straight for the Quantum Abyss!”

“We have to intercept her!” Lance called out. “Coran, tell Kolivan to prepare as many reinforcements as he can spare and follow us! While you’re at it, get Lotor to chip in some troops, too.”

“Lance,” Allura said. “I forgot to tell you, Lotor isn’t here.”

“Well where the heck is he?”

“A major battle and multiple skirmishes broke out between the rebel forces and rogue Generals on the other side of the galaxy. He left to quell it.”

Lance muttered under his breath. Keith wondered if he’s ever cursed a day in his life or if “hot belgian waffles” was the worst he could physically manage.

“We’ll have to do this on our own, then. Let’s go, guys!” Voltron took off, hopefully with the Castle and a bunch of heavily armed Galra on their heels.

Part 15

[vanaera]

Reds, Spaces, and Signs

Synopsis | Jeon Jungkook does the good ol' prepping up his girlfriend with ice cream and movies to help her through her red days. The only difference is, you're actually his girl-space-friend and he hopes that someday, you may eliminate that space between you. Lucky for him, you may do so tonight. Pairing | Jungkook x reader Genre | Flufffy dy fluffy dy fluff Wordcount | 1.9k

A/N | This is somehow related to the request so yeah…I hope you enjoy this anon as much as I enjoyed writing this while having a terrible red day. Thank you so much for loving this drabble series!

Read more of football!jk drabbles in The Prince and His Rose

           By the sound of a small 'ding!' and the sight of your name on his notification bar, Jungkook is already crouching down, tying his shoelaces to prep his fifty meter dash to your dorm.

Saturday 7:15 PM

Otor-nim Y/N: Kook, I need you to do the biggest favor of the month.

Otor-nim Y/N: I need long ass pads. I can't fucking move. The satanic waterfalls between my legs is furious as hell. It rained on my pads so bad.

Otor-nim Y/N: And yeah, I can't damn move.

           Past him would be totally cringing by now, begrudgingly stomping to the grocery to grab what you need and chunk them all to you on your couch before going out of the door without even a goodbye. However current him is different. Current him is much cooler and manly than past him. Current him is more gentlemanlike and more mature than past him. And current him is in love with you.

           Being his bestfriend for so many years, you have dealt with his too-many-to-count nonsense comebacks, childish competitiveness, annoying shenanigans, and stupid misadventures. You've helped him find his dream of playing football, tutored him for free on his difficult subjects, and...okay you've always been there to bring him back to rationality whenever he's about to do one of the stupidest things you’ll soon put down in a book titled Jungkook's Endless Shits. You even sit and wait on the bleachers for him to finish his night practices whenever you can just so you can go home together. You've also stayed up with him countless of nights, pressing down ice packs on his sore legs when he's done with long trainings and big matches on the field since high school. By now, it's obvious that he should return the favor, right? Growing up with you ever since he's a troublesome six-year-old, the idea of you being completely stuck by his side till you both grow old has already embedded itself on his head. Although back then, he meant living in a nice house in the future with your own house just across or beside his, your own families growing close to each other. Right now, however, he imagines you being with him inside his own house and building your own family. So knowing you’re one of the women who’s got the worst dysmenorrheas ever, of course, he's gotta take care of you so you'll still be alive when the day he'll finally be a man to confess these stuff to you - Okay, this is complete nonsense, so anyway-

Saturday 7:16 PM

Star Kook: on my way

Otor-nim Y/N: Thank you, Kook! Oh and bring that film Tae is Talking about.

Star Kook: Love, Rosie?

Otor-nim Y/N: Yesssss

Star Kook: Okay

Otor-nim Y/N: Have I ever told u that I LuV Ya??????

Star Kook: Ew.

 Oh god, does he wish you mean that. Please bless his rampaging heart.

 //

            Three knocks were made against the door before Jungkook uses the spare key of your room you gave to him. At the sound of your door unlocking, you look up from your haphazard state of your right leg laid on your couch and the other on the floor.

           You pull yourself to see him. "Heya Kook! That was...fast."

           "Yeah, what do you expect from me?" He gives you a smug smile, walking to your couch to land his butt alogside yours with a plop. He wouldn’t tell you that he actually spent a long ass time deciphering the best brand of pads in the convenience store. "You know I'll always be fast. It's the Jeon Effect."

           The stink eye you're giving him made him lean back and release a loud guffaw. You're probably slapping his face in your head.

           "Here's the pads. And yeah. I bought you ice cream and Chinese takeout."

           "Really?!" You turn your body towards him, eyes bright.

           Jungkook smiles, eyes mimicking the crescents of the moon. God, even if your hair has yet to feel the bristles of your brush, even if you look so pale with no make-up on, even if you practically look like death in front of him, you look so beautiful.  

           Jungkook clears his throat. "Yeah, really. Now sit down. I'll grab us some spoons, then we'll watch the movie. What do you wanna eat first? Ice cream or the take out?"

           "Hmm...I'll go with ice cream."

           "As always. Dessert before the main course."

           You chuckle as you return his grin. "Dessert before the main course."

           Ten minutes later into Love Rosie, you've already curled up on your couch, head now placed on your bestfriend’s lap when a few minutes prior it was settled on the crook of his neck and shoulder. The rhythmic feeling of Jungkook’s fingers carding through your locks was probably the culprit. Anyway, it was only then that you seemed to remember something.

           “Kook…”

           “Yeah?” Jungkook stops the movements of his fingers, angling his face towards you.

           “I forgot to grab our map.”

           “Oh yeah, okay just sit there. I’ll get it,” he says, immediately grabbing a pillow to place under your head as he scamper to your room.

           The map was easy to find. It’s folded on top of your bed, a blanket studded with colorful stars that have already faded hues through age. While it wasn’t the prettiest fabric, your blanket has served its purpose of providing you comfort and warm, even actually beyond what a blanket could provide. He remembers the seven-year-old you who claimed that this blanket wasn’t a blanket but a map – his and your map to the worlds your creative mind has planned and put into ink on paper. The stories you created grew and grew that you have to immortalize them into something tangential, something real for the fictitious tales you colored his and your life with.

           It took six years in high school before Jungkook realized that this blanket was not just a map for the Emerald Prince’s Kingdom, for the Empire of the Dandelion Lions, or for your favorite Golden Prince and his quest to reunite with his Rose. It was a blanket that always mapped his way back to his home when he ran away and you and your blanket were the only ones that accompanied him that lonely night, back to his self when you covered him in its fabric after one cold night after playing football for the very first time, and back to you when he suddenly avoided you for weeks because of the romantic feelings that grew in his ribcaged heart and all it took was one tearful night and your blanket over your heads to see you, your eyes, and the probability of him balancing the gravitational differences between your hearts. Two years have passed and Jungkook thinks his quest for your affections have also been fruitful, if the pink blush on your cheeks whenever he does surprise bear hugs and uncalled gifts were indicators of that. Anyway, Jungkook is yet to give up. He’s got more years to pour his love for you to make up for his lost chances in the previous years.

           Jungkook makes his way back to you, unfolding the blanket before draping it on your shoulders. He goes back to his seat and settles your head back on his lap. You grab his right hand to put it on your tresses and at the sound of your relieved sigh when he plays with your hair again, he chuckles. “You really like me playing with your hair, huh?”

           “Shut up, Kook.”

           Jungkook laughs. “I’m going to buy you a starry pajamas set when your birthday comes.”

           “Way to break the surprise, Jeon. Anyway, you know I’ll only wear them when you got a set that matches it so you better buy yourself one too. Who knows you’re planning to make me look hideous again.”

           “Of course, Y/N, we have to look horrible together, I’ll make sure of that.” Jungkook  doesn’t reply to your huffs of “how about you look hideous without dragging me into your stupid shits” and just tells you to focus on the movie.

           An hour and forty minutes later, the credits were rolling and Jungkook could feel your soft even breaths. He turns off the TV before crouching down to pick you up in his arms, blanket still draped on your body. You instantly snuggle into the warmth of his arms, the tip of your nose grazes the soft flesh of his neck, making him shudder.

           He sets you on your bed and tucks you comfortably in your blanket. However as he draws back to give you a good night kiss on your forehead you’ll never know off anytime soon, your right hand shoots out and grabs his, immediately sending a thousand electric bolts running rushing through his veins, from your cold hand, the fact you’re actually awake, or the possibility of him almost caught red handed, he doesn’t know.

           “Kook, y’know, Rosie and Alex are kinda stupid.”

           Oh, you’re talking about the film. Jungkook opts to sit on your bed. He doesn’t have it in himself to let your hand go. “Hmm…yeah, why is that?”

           “I don’t know…I mean, they had so many chances to just be brave and say what they felt to each other? They would have…y’know, don’t get through those stupid misunderstandings and conflicts when they just…said it aloud. Ya’get me?”

           Jungkook nods and squeezes your hand. He doesn’t know why, but it felt like a personal attack. All these things he’s been doing, all these staged fronts he pulls up just to keep his cool and not act like he’s actually whipped by you – yeah, they’re kinda stupid. But–

           You flutter your eyelashes at him and let a smile spread on your face. “I know I’m blabbing trash. Anyway, thank you for keeping me company and helping me with my shitty day…yeah…and I hope you won’t go stupid too and just say upfront whatever you’re feeling.”

           Before Jungkook lets your words sink in, he feels a pair of soft lips land on the apples of his cheek, so fast as if a butterfly fluttered past him. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, his hand on his cheek frozen as he turns to look at you, head now ducked beneath your covers.

           “Y-Y/N–“

           “That’s all. G’night, Kook.”

           “O-okay. G’night.”

           Only when Jungkook closes your door does he hear a faint “Love you,” and before he lets his imaginations take control again, he dismisses them and treks back to his dorm.

           Maybe it was all a dream, maybe it was real, but all Jungkook knows, this is a sign, and he sure as hell will not take it for granted. As soon as he reaches his room, he immediately pulls the familiar pink stationery, and the iconic golden crown tape you always find in the love letters addressed to you in your locker. For the very first time, Jeon Jungkook will be honest with everything now. No more pretenses–just him and you, and the reality of his feelings.

“Dear Princess,

It’s time for me to introduce myself. I’m Jeon Jungkook, your childhood friend, and bestfriend for more than ten years, and the Little Prince who’s been sending you love letters for the past six months.”

So…Did you give her the letter?

Not yet, Hyung.

Why?

It’s not the right time, Tae…I-I gotta have the time right.

But I thought you’ll court her for real now?!

I’m self-contradictory, hyung, okay?  I’m stupid, I know. I just-ugh! I just gotta wait…ease my way out of the friend zone, then I’ll send her the letter.

Okay, If you say so.

I will, hyung, I’m sure. Very soon.

A/N pt. 2 | Is this a sign hons? HAHAHAHHA don’t worry, TPAHR won’t be ending anytime soon. I’ve still got loads of stuff planned for this drabble series. Anyway, enjoy the suspense. Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for the support you’ve all been giving me! I love you, hons!

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content are allowed without direct permission.

[thelimeonade]

Extinct Galactic: ‘Alone’ . An excerpt from Wisher

Warning: This Excerpt contains themes of violence [Child abuse.]. Do not read if this triggers you.

At times like this, all what Wisher would have asked of the universe was that they end the suffering for good, that her brain would stop replaying those undignified memories when she was nothing but a helpless punchbag to every passerby.

“Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head.” Wisher seethed over and over again through her clenched teeth. She had buried her hands underneath her thick hair, gripping her skull with both hands pushing and pushing as if she might squeeze her pain out – the memories that haunted her at nights endlessly and had only grown worse by the day.

“I got you,” Frontress mumbled over and over again as he cradled her shaking form in his arms.

“No.” Wisher had ground out every single time he had brought his fingers to her temple, had flinched away from  his touch. She knew his intentions were pure, to rid her of the pain. As much as she would throw herself into a pit of boiling magma, her heart pulsating with trust that Front will save her, she couldn’t let him in. She would never let him in.

And so she dove down into the abyss, towards one of the countless fateful nights that had shaped her into what she was today, an overthinking, heartless monster... towards one of the night when she was still Nadine, when she had lived under the same roof as snakes that would wrap around her neck and suffocate her, that would drag their poisonous fangs and split whips down her body till there was no skin left unmarred... when her adoptive parents were nothing less of sadistic villains

It was 12 am. Her parents had finished looking through ever corner of her room, taking every spare cash she had, every penny she had tucked away into old, smelly socks. They had confiscated her laptop as well, her phone, her books, everything she had loved so that they would go through it and pull her leg into another beating.

But she was smarter... at least for now... she had swept all her belongings for anything that might lead to those merciless hands to rain down on her with punches and slaps.

Her food stash was tucked away in her pillow. As much as it was painful to sleep on packs of cereal hidden between lumps of sponge, it was better than spending a night starving.

Her bedside alarm clock had winked out repeatedly, flashing that it was 3:15 am: the time at which the house was in deep sleep.

With footsteps as quiet as a mouse, she got out of bed then began undoing the stitches she had carefully sewn on her pillow to hide her stash.

They had starved her today. As soon as she returned from school, as soon as her mother had shared a few laughs and a few smiles that were all faker than her cheap high-copy shoes, as soon as the door was shut behind them, sealing the outside world away from what happens in that house, her hair had been tugged hard by its roots and her cheeks were swollen by an infinite number of slaps for ‘talking to that boy’... a boy who Nadine was supposed to tutor at school... a boy who was just asking about the right way to practice Integration at home.

So she was sent to her room – without a lick of food or water – and was beaten for being ‘a whore.’

At exactly 3:30 am, Nadine had pushed her swore limps into a stand, put on one of her jackets with deep pockets, wore thick wool socks in the middle of August just to hide the sound of her food-steps as she scavenged for food in the kitchen. She didn’t forget to bring her pillow along with her so she could stuff cereals and cans inside without them making a racket that would surely wake up the slumbering lions in their den. The lions who were waiting to pull her flesh off her bones.

Nadine had memorized every inch of the house, knowing which panels creaked, which did not, where would be the perfect spots to hide if she was to get caught, which things were supposed to be there and if they were out of place, she was to return immediately to her room to avoid more wounds. If they had blinded her, she would have still been able to navigate through the house without attracting an ounce of attention in her direction.

And this is exactly what she was doing in the pitch-black night.

Down the staircase. Stop. Where is the security camera pointed? In her direction. She flattened herself against the wall and slid against it, sticking to the blind spot until she was entirely out of the danger zone. Then she had bolted on the tips of her toes. Four steps then a right. Now she was in the kitchen.

But it was not empty.

Her heart had dropped and her bladder had clenched the minute the lights flipped on.

“I knew you would come here.” Her father had began to pull his belt out of the loops of his pants.

But she couldn’t run away...

Her mother had showed up right behind her, her iron clasps for hands had gripped her arms, forcing her around.

Wisher flinched into reality. But her throat still burned from recalling the screams she had cried out into the night. Her back still aced from the scars they had inflicted all over her body... scars that were so deep, so permanent, that even when they had transitioned her into a full Elluminum later on many of them still remained, some of them had even gone as far as to creep off her back, only to reappear on her wings whenever she summoned them.

This isn’t happening right now. They are far away from you. You are safe now.

But was she, really?

The memories still lingered. The scars were eternal. She was branded for the entirety of her immortal life. She was forever labelled as nothing more than a broken child... and nobody held her adoptive parents accountable for what happened. Nobody had called the police when she had cried out for help nights after nights. Nobody had came by and banged on their door. Nobody had informed the authorities when they saw her scars.

She was left alone.

And she still was alone...

Even her real father had disowned her... her real mother had treated her like a wild animal...

“I do not care if she claims that you are my daughter, of my blood. No body of my blood would be as despicable and snobbish as you.”

“You are nobody! You hear me?Nobody! You are just a temporarily obstacle in my way.”

“You should be grateful that you are still breathing, girl. If it weren’t for my foolish brother you would have been nothing but a burnt corpse rotting away in a ditch!”

She was indeed nobody...

She shouldn’t even be here.

Who would want a piece of shit like her to rule over them as Queen?

I think the whole universe would kill to have a piece of shit as their Queen. It wasn’t her own voice that had reverberated in her skull.

Her blurry vision had cleared, taking in the tall figure that had kneeled before her. Her brother, Aximus waved Frontress away, taking Wisher in his arms himself, wiping away her hot tears as he hugged her tightly then whispered in her ear for only her to hear, “I would give up all what I hold dearest to my heart to have somebody like you – who had fought and survived and still tore pieces of her own self to keep us alive everyday – to be Queen.”

Wisher’s hands snaked around Aximus’ neck, crushing him against her as she sobbed loudly against her brother’s shoulder.

“And for the record,” he continued, “You are only a piece of shit for stealing my shirts whenever you ran out of clean ones.”

Did it hit you right in the feels? Did it? Did it? Did it?

Anyways!!! That’s all for this time!!! I hope you enjoyed this! If you did reblog, like and\ or comment! Love you all!

Taglist: @mediocre-prose @adenhamcreations @farrradays [TELL ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO EXTINCT GALACTC‘S TAG LIST]

[straycatsacademia]

Port Mafia Pastries Ch. 3: Movie Dates

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231035/chapters/44075833Ao3 Link

Soon enough, Friday came, and Akutagawa couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous. He wore a nice sweater and jeans, realizing that Atsushi hadn’t actually seen him out of his work clothes. He heard a knock at the door, and when he opened it, he breathed out in relief. Atsushi was wearing jeans and a nice t-shirt, and Akutagawa was surprised to see muscles on his arms.

“Hey, I thought about bringing dessert, but I realized nothing would probably live up to your standards,” Atsushi laughed.

Akutagawa shook himself out of the trance he was in and cleared his throat. “Anything you bring would be fine,” Akutagawa replied. He could hear his voice shake and he cursed himself. Atsushi gave him a weird look but said nothing.

“Wow, your apartment is really nice,” Atsushi complimented.

“Thanks, my sister helped design it,” Akutagawa smiled fondly.

After talking a bit more they started to get out the ingredients for the meal they were going to cook. Akutagawa thought he’d start with a simple meal of vegetables and chicken. However when he saw Atsushi grab the knife to start cutting the zucchini, he thought even that might be too much.

“What are you doing?! You’re gonna cut yourself! Here, let me show you,” Akutagawa sighed. Putting his hands on Atsushi’s, he helped guide him. After a few seconds, he noticed Atsushi was staring at him, and that their faces were very close. Blushing, Akutagawa put down the knife and went back to preparing the chicken.

The rest of the cooking portion of the night was uneventful, as they fell into a comfortable silence. Once the food was done and they sat down, Akutagawa started internally panicking again. What was he going to say? What were they supposed to do but look into each other's eyes? Should he turn on the tv? Would that be rude?

Atsushi smiled at him and started digging into the food. Akutagawa started eating too, and after they talked about the food, the conversation flowed much easier.

After dinner, they decided to watch a movie. Atsushi was horrified Akutagawa had never seen a Disney movie, so now they were watching The Lion King. Except when Akutagawa agreed to watch a Disney movie, he wasn’t expecting a crying Atsushi.

“Atsushi, it’s not real. No lion actually died, it’s pointless to cry about such things,” Akutagawa sighed.

“B-but it’s still so sad! Simba lost his father, because his own uncle killed him!” Atsushi sniffed, leaning his head on Akutagawa’s shoulder as he cried.

Akutagawa froze. Shit, what was he supposed to do now? Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm around Atsushi as Atsushi dug his head into Akutagawa’s neck.

Akutagawa tried to relax to make Atsushi more comfortable, but he could feel his entire face flush. Soon enough Atsushi had stopped crying and was laughing and singing along with the movie, yet he continued to lean on Akutagawa. Akutagawa couldn’t help but think that Atsushi was very comfortable.

Then, much to Akutagawa’s horror, the romance started… as Atsushi was laying on him. Akutagawa’s face felt like it was on fire as “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” started playing. Akutagawa immediately regretted allowing Atsushi to pick the movie.

“Have you ever felt like that towards someone, Akutagawa?” Atsushi asked him.

Akutagawa coughed into his hand and looked away from the screen. “No, I’ve never been in love before,” he replied.

“Oh,” Atsushi said. Akutagawa couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad by his answer.

“Have you?”

“No, I haven’t been in love before either. It looks nice though,” Atsushi hummed.

Akutagawa agreed, and finally the horrid song was over. Akutagawa let out a sigh of relief, but it didn’t last long as soon Atsushi yawned and snuggled into him closer, and Akutagawa was sure Atsushi could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Akutagawa, are you sure you weren’t in love with Dazai?”

Akutagawa sat up quickly and Atsushi yelped as he was shoved off the couch.

“What? No! Why would you ask something like that?”

“You always just seemed to value his opinions over everyone else's, like nothing else mattered besides his approval. Including me,” Atsushi whispered.

Akutagawa’s face softened. “Your opinion means much more to me than Dazai’s” Akutagawa assured him.

Atsushi’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really. Now can we get back to watching the movie?” Akutagawa asked, uncomfortable with expressing his affection for Atsushi.

They both sat down and to Akutagawa’s surprise, Atsushi moved closer to him and rested his head on Akutagawa again.

“If you value my opinion so much, can I call you Ryuunosuke?”

If Atsushi couldn’t hear Akutagawa’s heart beat before, he certainly could here it now.

“S-sure,” Akutagawa managed to stutter out.

“Okay, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi said, and then returned his attention to the movie.

Ryuunosuke was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t even realise the movie had ended.

Atsushi sighed. “Well, I better get back to Kyouka,” Atsushi said sadly. He got up off Ryuunosuke and he suddenly felt cold.

“Wait!” Ryuunosuke grabbed his arm. “Do you want to do this again? Dinner and a movie?”

Atsushi’s eyes widened and his face turned red. “Like… like a date?”

Ryuunosuke felt his heart beat faster. “If- If that’s what you want,” he stuttered.

Atsushi beamed and wrapped his arms around him. “I’d like that,” Atsushi whispered.

Atsushi waved at Ryuunosuke before he headed home, and Ryuunosuke sat behind his door, smiling.

---

Atsushi smiled the whole day at work. He couldn’t believe Ryuunosuke felt the same way he did. At least… he thought he did? What if he knew about Atsushi’s feelings and just pitied him? No, he knew Ryuunosuke wouldn’t do that.

Pushing through his self deprecating thoughts, Atsushi served his last customer before clocking out. He wondered what he and Ryuunosuke would do for their date. Lost in thought, he felt himself run into something before crashing on the ground.

Rubbing his head, Atsushi realized that “something” was actually a person, the exact same person he was thinking about.

“Akutagawa! I mean, Ryuunosuke? What are you doing here?”

Ryuunosuke groaned, rubbing his chin where Atsushi had run into him. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I think you just ended up surprising me,” he muttered.

Atsushi laughed and helped Ryuunosuke up. “Oops, sorry about that. Are you off work? Wanna do something?”

“Like a date?” Ryuunosuke smirked.

Atsushi blushed. “No! I mean, yes? If you want to? I don’t want to pressure you-”

Ryuunosuke covered Atsushi’s mouth with his hand to keep him from rambling. “Relax, I actually came here to see if you were free to go to the movies with me. A new movie came out that I want to see, and I was wondering if you were up for going on our date now,” Ryuunosuke coughed into his hand, blushing.

Atsushi beamed. “Yes! Let’s go!” Without thinking, Atsushi grabbed Ryuunosuke’s hand to drag him to the theater, and turned red when Ryuunosuke squeezed his hand back.

They talked about their days on the way to the movie, which Atsushi now realized he had never actually asked Ryuunosuke which movie it was.

“So… what are we seeing?”

“The new Alien movie,” Ryuunosuke smiled.

Atsushi stopped. Shit, he hadn’t thought about the fact that Ryuunosuke liked horror movies. He gulped, and Ryuunosuke frowned at him.

“Are you scared of horror movies? We can just go see something else,” Ryuunosuke told him.

“No! I just haven’t heard of it before,” Atsushi laughed nervously. “Let’s go,” Atsushi told him, walking into the theater before he changed his mind.

Taking a seat in the back row, Atsushi breathed in and out. “Calm down, it’s just a horror movie,” he thought to himself.

Thirty minutes into the movie Atsushi had regretted everything. The aliens were terrifying and he knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. A particular jump attack had Atsushi holding onto Ryuunosuke’s arm for dear life.

“Atsushi, we don’t have to stay,” Ryuunosuke whispered, holding Atsushi back.

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine as long as I have you with me,” Atsushi whispered back, smiling back.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened, before he wrapped his arm fully around Atsushi, and Atsushi buried his head into Ryuunosuke’s shoulder during the particularly scary parts.

Once the movie was over, Atsushi let out a sigh of relief. Then he realized he would have to let go of Ryuunosuke, and he felt disappointed. However, whenever he went to let go of Ryuunosuke, Ryuunosuke gripped his arm tighter.

Atsushi raised an eyebrow at him. Ryuunosuke blushed, and stood up with Atsushi, moving to grip his hand instead. Atsushi smiled, and they walked out of the theater.

“So… how did you like it?” Ryuunosuke teased him.

Atsushi glared at him. “I’ll stick to Disney, thanks,” Atsushi shuddered.

Ryuunosuke laughed, and this time Atsushi felt himself blush. He always felt a surge of pride run through him when he could make Ryuunosuke laugh, knowing that most people never saw this side of him.

“Wanna come back to my apartment for a bit?” Atsushi asked. “Kyouka is staying with a friend so, it’s just me tonight,” he added.

Ryuunosuke nodded, and they walked to Atsushi’s place. As soon as they got into Atsushi’s apartment, Atsushi turned on all of the lights and looked under all of the furniture as Ryuunosuke struggled not to laugh at him.

“You’re mean,” Atsushi pouted, when Ryuunosuke couldn’t hold it in any longer and chuckled.

Ryuunosuke wrapped his arms around Atsushi, and Atsushi melted. “Maybe, but you still keep me around anyway,” Ryuunosuke murmured in his ear. Atsushi shivered and pulled back, and the look in Ryuunosuke’s eyes made his insides twist. He looked away, and decided to put in another Disney movie.

Ryuunosuke groaned, and sat down on the couch. “If there’s another cringey romance scene I’m leaving,” he muttered.

Atsushi paused in putting in “Snow White” and Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes.

Atsushi snuggled up to Ryuunosuke and started the movie. By the time they finished, Atsushi was sniffling and Ryuunosuke was annoyed.

“That’s such a sexist and stupid movie,” he said.

“What? No it’s not!” Atsushi argued.

“Is too! A woman, or anybody, shouldn’t need a stupid kiss by a man to be validated! Besides, why should the Queen take out her anger on Snow White instead of the patriarchy?”

Atsushi thought about it. “I guess you’re right. Then again, this movie was also made in 1937,” he replied.

“Besides, how can a kiss be so magical?” Ryuunosuke continued.

“Are you saying that because you haven’t kissed anyone? Atsushi teased.

Ryuunosuke blushed. “N-no! I don’t need to have kissed anyone to know that it wouldn’t break a magic spell,” he muttered.

Atsushi paused. “You really haven’t kissed anyone?”

Ryuunosuke coughed into his hand. “Why would I?”

Atsushi shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t kissed anyone either,” he whispered.

They fell into an awkward silence, and Atsushi regretted bringing it up.

“I better go, it’s late…” Ryuunosuke said, getting up from the couch. Atsushi cringed, blaming himself for screwing things up.

“Right,” Atsushi replied, getting off of Ryuunosuke. He walked him to the door, and Ryuunosuke turned to him. Bracing himself for rejection, Atsushi stiffened. Instead, he felt Ryuunosuke’s lips on his.

Atsushi’s eyes widened, but before he could fully process what was happening, Ryuunosuke pulled back.

“See you tomorrow, Atsushi,” Ryuunosuke told him, his face red.

Once Ryuunosuke had fully closed the door, Atsushi let out the breath he had been holding.

He didn’t know how Akutagawa had felt, but that sure felt like magic to him.

[levi-ish]

Not Possible [P.P]

Summary: Peter was the one that wouldn’t let it be possible, but faith had other plans for you.

Pairing: Peter Parker X Soulmate!Reader

Genre: Total angst (yeah, I missed that)

Words: 2.1k

A/N: SPOILERS FROM INFINITY WAR AHEAD. Also, I was in a mood to write some angst .

Masterlist

Peter always wanted to hold your hand without making it an awkward moment. Whenever he would be sitting next to you, he made billions of scenarios in his head of what could possibly go wrong if he grew a pair and actually do it, but then again, you were friends, and that was off limits. 

He knew that holding hands would able him to see if you two were soulmates; the stories he heard from his childhood, about how holding hands would make a magic matching heart show somewhere under the knuckles — but believe or not, he never thought too deeply about that when he was around you.

But how could he avoid the temptation while long movies marathons, when you would sit there, giggling at the silliest romantic comedy only you could ever choose and a hand just resting on the cushion right next to his; your pinkies almost brushing as he tried not to seem too weird.

Then, when he was almost giving up on the thought, you reached for the popcorn bowl at the same time and your fingers actually brushed together, making little shivers run the boy’s body and he tried to shift from his earlier position in an attempt of looking totally normal.

However, you guys have been friends for the longest time — since kindergarten when you two debated about hypos being better than lions — and you always knew when he was hiding something; Peter always twitched the corner of his mouth and seemed to change his position, as if he was uncomfortable, and that was one of those moments.

“Spill it” you said, grabbing the remote to pause the movie and turned a bit just to face him properly.

The boy furrowed his brows and let out a breathy but uneasy laugh as his fingers fiddled with the hem of his stained mathlete’s sweater. You run your hand up and down your jeans covered legs while trying to seem confident — even though you were suffering from anxiety of what would be his response.

“W-What?” The boy asked, a silly smile forming on his lips and he licked them right after. 

“No” you shook your hand and lifted your hand, signaling for him to stop. “Don’t even try to make the ‘confusion’ face. You know what I meant.”

Peter lowered his head and pulled his legs to cross them right under him, sighing slightly as you kept watching the way his eyes seemed to glow in front of the TV’s lights. He ran a hand through his cocoa locks and unmade his perfect gelled hairstyle that he took a full three minutes time to make every morning — something that you always teased him about.

“I... It’s silly, (Y/N). Really, you don’t wanna know.” The boy decided that if he even tried to lie, you would notice, so there was no use doing anything else.

“Cut the bullshit, Peter” you rolled your eyes and slid your body a bit closer to him, hearing the clear sigh that left his mouth and laughing internally. “You tell me stuff that I don’t even need to know, like that one time about the burnt burritos—”

“Will you ever forget about that story?” He laughed and bit his lower lip, noticing that your gaze persisted on his face, waiting for another question to be answered. “Okay, Iwantedtoholdyourhand.”

“What?!” You furrowed your brows. “Oh god, Peter, just say it!”

“I wanted to hold your hand” he said, almost regretting immediately.

You were took by surprise, but since you knew that actions always spoke louder than words, you slid your hand closer to his, now officially brushing your fingers together and interlacing them, making the boy jump a bit and all the hairs in both bodies stand up the same moment. But after the new waves of the unknown sensation of holding each others hands, you two smiled to each other, now noticing that it hasn’t turned out in the worst case scenario.

“Why didn’t you say it sooner?” You squeezed his fingers slightly, rubbing your thumb on his knuckles and resting your head on the palm of your other hand.

Peter didn’t dare to look too much at you, he couldn’t handle the pressure, and he let another breathy laugh as he fiddled with his belt. “I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

A small black heart started to show slowly between your thumbs and pointers as you two still held each others hands, making everything seem finally fit into place as the memory kept fresh on your memories.

You bit your lower lip, feeling the same comfortable sensation now irradiating through your whole body.

“Not possible.”

Even though you two shared from the good sensation that holding hands brought, you never dared to say it louder, afraid of how that would sound.

Sure, you two would be holding hands whenever you got the chance to. Always hidden, trying not to get suspicions from the others, but it was thrilling to interlace your fingers under the dinner table while May and Ned ate their pasta quietly — as if they wouldn’t notice the shit-eating-grin that you two had plastered on both mouths.

You held his hand when you two walked down the street, reaching for the train; during train rides; under the covers while watching movies; while studying or doing homework; mostly, when you got the chance to, just to stare at the small heart shaped mark sitting there.

It was a nice feeling, to feel safe just by a touch of two warm palms. You loved when Peter would bring your hands to his mouth, placing little kisses on your knuckles, one by one without missing a single spot, and he loved how you would dance while walking down the train stations, turning around and finding his embrace right after a swing of your whole body, laughing your lungs off and making sweet memories from a life you two built together — even though you had no clue about that.

But it pained you both that it was an unspoken thing. You never asked to hold his hand and he never did either, not after the first time, and it made you feel anxious to know what you two were doing, now not feeling too afraid of saying it louder, knowing that it was a bit more real than nothing at all. 

Still, you watched Peter leaning back on the column inside the subway station, his beige jacket hanging around his body and covering the faded blue sweater that you loved on him. His hair a bit messy from the subways that rushed by and created a strong breeze that always moved your clothes and hair from their places. You stood in front of him, arms crossed and playing with the boots covered toes on the concrete floor, trying to warm yourself up. 

Peter, being the gentlemen he was raised to be, took of his jacket and put it around your shoulders, earning the most beautiful smile he could ever see on your lips — it would be worth it to feel a bit colder, since your smile warmed him up instantly. 

“So... What’s on your mind?” He asked, a bit too scared of ruining the things between you two. If it could be called a ‘thing’. Even if you two knew that you were soulmates, the uneasy feeling of not going anywhere made you both feel anxiety hurting your chest.

“I don’t know” you said, looking over your shoulder to see if the subway was already coming. “What are we doing?”

“Waiting for the—”

“Don’t even try to finish the phrase, Parker” you teased and rolled your eyes, fitting your hands inside of his jacket and trying to look at him. “I’m talking about the ‘holding hands’ thing. What’s next? We’ll just stop doing it someday and part ways?”

Peter got a scared look on his face, a bit too surprised with the suddenness of your words. He took a moment to analyze your expression, noticing that your brows were furrowed and your eyes hid under the rebel locks that flew around your face and he smiled to himself, gaining courage to raise his hand and brush his fingertips on top of your soft cheeks, feeling the silky sensation and smelling the scent of your shampoo while getting closer.

“I hope not” he said, getting closer at each second that passed while you two seemed to be frozen in time. 

“Then what should we do?” You bit your lower lip, now finding his brown orbs as you looked up, too nervous to even swallow the lump that formed in your throat. “Pretend that nothing is going on?”

The boy got too close now, his lips ghosting over yours as he hesitantly opened them to say: “not possible”.

You took a moment to take deep breaths and try to steady your whole body as you sat on the couch, watching the TV with eyes wide open while the images of your boyfriend made an appearance. Spider-Man and Tony Stark went missing. 

You grabbed the cushion next to you and held it close to your chest, trying to suppress all the feelings that were mixing inside your mind, making you feel more panicked than ever as you watched the tapes of Peter in his hero form holding tight to a spaceship, going up to God-knows-where and your frame went numb, too painful to move.

A vibration caught you off guard and you saw that it was coming from your phone. You took it quickly and saw a notification that came from him, opening it as fast as you could, your shaky fingers touching everywhere but the message itself. 

It was a voicemail and you put the phone next to your ear, trying to hear whatever it has to say while your chest tightened at the uneasy feeling that flooded inside your veins, mixing with your blood but making it feel colder. You held tight to the sweater that you stole from him and wore almost all the time, sniffing on the scent of lavender, probably from his softener. 

“(Y/N)? H-Hi, I know you are going to kill me and in my defense I—oh shit—I had to go because it’s my job, ya’know? Those aliens are trying to destroy the planet and I can’t be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if there isn’t a neighborhood. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m almost falling! Oh, forget it, I’m fine. Well, if the aliens plant eggs on my chest and kill me later, I’ll let them know that you want to be the first one to kill me, so, not possible. Gotta go—I’m almost with no air here—love ya, bye!”

You took a deep breath and a few tears started to form on the corner of your eyes as you tried to control the trembling, touching the play button again, listening to the message a few more times as you cried in silence.

A burning pain was spotted on your hand, making you twist your face while drying the tears that escaped your eyes and made their way to the cushion you still held tight. The message kept repeating as you looked at your hand, watching the heart-shaped mark starting to disappear, turning into a white one that seemed like a scar.

No, no, no, no. Please, no.

“Gotta go—I’m almost with no air here—love ya, bye!” you listened to his recorded voice until your soulmate mark faded completely, making a pain irradiate inside your whole chest, as if you were being stabbed in the heart. A breath was caught on your throat and you were having trouble to breath normally while the pain cries left your mouth and you gripped the cushion with more force than ever, your fingernails breaking through the fabric.

It’s not possible. It’s not possible.

You stared at the TV once more, watching the clips of your boyfriend swinging in the air and holding onto the spaceship as he left the atmosphere and was nowhere to be seen. Your legs felt like jelly and your hands trembled more than ever, the phone falling to the carpeted floor while you let out a painful sob that was being held inside your mouth for a bit.

With a last stare at your hand, you saw the mark completely white and you were scared to even think about it. You couldn’t even think about the words properly, knowing that if you even said that inside your mind, it would make it real, and you didn’t want it to be.

No.

Not possible. 

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @hey-i-really-miss-you @starlightfound@lionsfandomsandbearsohmy @isabellamozzarellla @tshollandlove@peterparkerdeservesbetter @marveldes

[animefandomshipper]

hey babe! for the suggestive sentence starters could you maybe do, “i can tell you’re hot and bothered from all the way over here.”

@catwoman10001

Suggestive Starters Meme (NSFW)• I can tell you’re hot and bothered from all the way over there •

I decided to make second chapter (which is why I stubbornly refused to not post this until it was done) so those who are interested for what happens after can find it on ao3.

*

There were eyes everywhere here, bolted to the windows of their soul inside out, their stories behind, beyond his understanding. Such as to them in this dimly lit, shallowly depressed room, him the same.

The ice sunk to the bottom, bubbles rising to the surface to take one last breath.

He huffed a laugh, the ends of its tune crackling with a dryness that was once foreign.

They didn’t know, they didn’t know a damn thing.

The drink sloshed slowly with nimble fingers, a smile no longer true crawling to the corners like pinned needles, stuck in place and in no favor of delicacy. He briefly pondered his appearance as he downs the liquid down, the mirrors in his flat no longer in use. Was it as bad as how he felt? Even so, it didn’t matter. Nothing did.

His smile widened, so bitterly and big, he could feel the old bigoted man inching to him in the last few minutes recoil backwards. The thick odor of cigarettes and rat shit whifting away from him. Good, his claws are no longer in his control.

Wordlessly, he gestures the man behind the bar for another refill, a bitter eagerness for his one and only welcomed company. The sweet formula for another ten minutes of forgotten pain.

He situates himself comfortably in his seat, his bottom long going numb and now, with the drink slid into his view, so will his heart’s heartbreak.

With enclosed precision, the burn meeting the back of his throat is a divine poison so sweetly spiced, the flickering image of a face is gone for a for a few eternally grateful, silenced seconds.

But never is time ever so kind to stop its race with pain.

He’s back with another pulse of quickened breath, memories he thought he burned in the fire of hatred and betrayal coming back in form of whispering ashes. In a single moment, everything they had was gone. And for what? A night with the bitch he’d been eyeing.

Oh, Mikaela. Why oh why had you not seen it? Their growing distance in the many months before the cheating bastard’s departure was now, through the new Mikaela’s eyes as clear as day. His boyfriend’s disinterest in him batted away for tiredness of a long day as he unknowingly veiled himself from the many clues littering their home. Now dubbed his home once again after he kicked him out.

His hand cradled his face, the other dug into a fist. ’Do you miss him?’ His mind coldly inquired, forcefully wisened to a fault.

’No,’ he reminds himself, ’I no longer miss him, I merely miss every moment with the me I no longer remember.’

The one he loved to be. The one that stood so strong and unreachable for the hands of mortals with lecherous intentions. He had fallen from that height, and now his wings have singed to dust. How dare he take that Mikaela away, leaving only a bleeding heart and a crippled stranger in his own skin?

A stranger, left behind and unsatisfied with every moment after.

He clamps his quivering mouth shut at the thought, the curled fist dropping into his lap to swipe softly yet unsatisfactory to his shaking thighs.

Unsatisfied. What a lenient description.

As much as he wants to deny it, he’s grown desperate. Desperate for a caring hand ready to please, a hot mouth worshipping his starving body with praises. Of soft kisses not asked to be given, gifted by their own will.

Is that so wrong to want? A passionate lover who he could trust his frail heart with, no worries for it to be thrown back, disinterested and one only capable of loving it as strongly as he?

Passion fueled nights died as quickly as it started. And him with it.

But that might not be the case anymore.

”Another drink for the beautiful blond, on me.” He perks in suspicion, discreetly narrowing into defense as a man plops into the seat beside him.

His muscles simultaneously bunch in tension and soften to quiver when those bewildering and gorgeous green eyes lock onto his in a dominating stare. A gasp, so frail and small is stolen from his lips.

Who is this beautiful man?

He’s convinced the second those dazzling emeralds lid over dark lashes he’s been put under a spell.

”Please,” he grips his thighs helplessly together, that purring voice a baritoned choir, ”a gift, take it.”

He’s defenseless, shaking a small thank you passed surprisingly in a steady voice, ”I appreciate it.”

The mysterious man grins brightly and Mikaela internally swoons, why did he look so accomplished? His gratefulness was expected, it would be rude to not say a thing.

”I’m glad. Oh!” He chuckles, white teeth reflecting another perfect aspect of him, ”my apologies, my name is Yuuichirou but you can call me Yuu.”

”Ah um… my name’s Mikaela…” he chided himself, was it wise to tell this gorgeous- though still unknown- man his name?

”Angelic.”

”What?” He jumped, uncharacteristically blushful at the strange word, even more so at his unwavering stare, his soul bared for him to see. What was angelic precisely?

”Your name.” He explains. ”I’ve never heard such a beautiful name.”

”Th-thank you,” he stutters, the steadiness from before waining the more he interacted with the man- Yuu, he corrected.

”I can’t help but notice that you’ve always come here alone.” He carefully treads to the topic Mikaela would rather forget about, his reasoning for being here. To drown his sorrows like the coward he’s associated himself with.

”Oh.” He dipped his head to his lap, lips scrunched and hands nervously playing with each other.

”No it’s alright you don’t have to elaborate.” He hurries to clarify, ”wrong conversation starter huh?” He chuckles and Mika can’t help but appreciate his turn of humor.

He shifts the conversation to talk about himself, Mika leaning more and more interested the more he rants and jokes.

Strange. He can’t help but sober up and join in, the aching that persisted his heart for month tampering down with every new piece of information Yuu allows himself to give.

He laugh, loud and strained with unuse as Yuu accidentally spills a drink to his attire and all he does is curse, never chastising Mika for laughing and joining in just as easily after grabbing a handful of napkins given to him by the bartender.

He’s free or whatever is close to that and lets himself go with Yuu and comes to a decision when he sees the raven struggle to find something else to talk about. He squashes the buzzling echoes of warnings away and began to retell his story, catching him of guard to quiet down.

He’d be a fool and a liar to not notice his predatory eyes when he mentions the unveiling attraction that led to him here.

”It’s his loss.” He spears his opinion out of clenched teeth so strongly Mika is left breathless by its unquestioned honesty, ”if he let go of such an angel of a person so willingly then I can’t help but think there’s something wrong with him.”

They’ve gotten closer somehow in the past hour, their legs touching and hands briefly coming to connect only to separate with the territory unknown just yet. But now, Mika wants nothing more than to drown in his arms and cry, those words having never been spit so strongly and venomously before in any situation in his twenty-two years of life.

He almost can’t take it.

”Yuu-chan…”

”No wonder I could tell you were all hot and bothered from all the way over there. You haven’t been taken care of like you should have been.”

He freezes and so does Yuu, him in a bashful liquid of embarrassment and Yuu, like he’s just been cornered by a pack of lions.

”Oh God tell me I didn’t say that out loud.” He stumbles out with a hand suspended in mid-air to his horrified face, shooting daggers at the silently dying pink-haired bartender kneeling down the floor.

Mika can’t compute, ”what?”

”Forget it forget everything I said-”

”No no no,” his heart hammers against his ribcage, something foreign squeezing inside that wills him to catch Yuuichirou’s shoulder. ”What did you mean by that? ’Haven’t been taken care of like you should have been?’” he hastily requotes, a moan pressing his tongue as he does.

”I…” he sees his chances of bolting away has lessened with the pale hand gripping his still, ”I just mean that…” he doesn’t want to say it if it causes Mika to run away, that wasn’t his intention.

”Its okay, you can tell me.” Mika softly runs his tongue to swipe at his quickly chapping lips, ”I won’t be mad.” No, he won’t, and the coiling embers so close to the match agrees.

”I wanted to take my chances with you when I saw you all those weeks ago but never had the courage until now and all that time you looked so sad and needy and I… I don’t know I just really wanted to talk to you?? I don’t know you’re pretty and I can’t think right now with you so close.” Yuu gasps out every word and Mika can’t say he isn’t flattered.

Mika blinks and snorts, ”you’re secretly a dork.”

”Is that a bad thing?” He twiddles his thumbs without looking back to Mika, ashamed and more than a little embarrassed.

”No,” he breathily rasps, shuffling his legs to make contact with Yuu’s, ”it’s not a bad thing at all.”

Yuu catches on and slithers a hand to his leg. ”Careful Mika,” that tone ripples a tremor, rapidly smoothing him into an addiction with how he practically purrs his name, ”I’m still a hunter.”

”From what I got I don’t have to worry,” Mika chuckles, a mischievous smile (true and real he can’t believe-) coming to tempt his hand to discover new places, loving the bewitched effect he seems to have on Yuu. ”Would you really let me go?”

”That’s the last thing I want to do.” His growl is low-pitched and Mika instinctively offers his unmarked canvas of a neck as a peace offering. And he doesn’t have to wonder if it works, Yuuichirou’s pupils dilating into black rings brimming with unquenched lust.

”Mika, let’s go.”

With a smirk of triumph, he does as told and when he leaves the bar with a hot mouth chasing his, and the next time he walks in here, he will no longer be alone.

[legendofzeldaalinktothepast]

Opalescent Tides - Chapter 3

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter 

"...And here's the guest bedroom!" Rose declared, pushing a door open and gesturing into a small, dimly lit room. "It needs a bit of dusting... It hasn't been used in quite a while, as you can probably tell." she added in a slightly more sheepish tone. 

"Hey, don't sweat it. It's perfect." Amethyst said. She then flicked on the light switch so she could get a better view; the floor of the room was carpeted in a blue, oddly textured material that Amethyst wasn't quite sure she liked... The walls were painted an off-white pattern with a starry border, and the ceiling was scattered with little plastic stars. Picture frames lined the walls; some of them were family photos, and others were paintings of varying quality (probably done by members of the family, Amethyst noticed, as she observed a picture of a lion done in finger paint). 

She approached the bed with the intention of just sitting down, but instead her whole body flopped down onto the thick polka-dotted comforter. After a whole night of sleeping in a hard bathtub, feeling something soft beneath her was pure heaven. "Mmm..." she couldn't help but groan happily. "Yeah, this is peeeerfect, Rose."

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house. "Mommy, we're home!" a boy's voice called from down the stairs.

Rose smiled, turning back towards the hallway. "Looks like the boys are here... Would you like to come greet them?"

"Uh, sure!" Amethyst said; in all honesty, she really wanted to stay here on top of this cloud-soft mattress, but she figured she shouldn't be rude, either. Sliding down from the bed, she followed Rose down the stairs and into the living room, hiding behind her slightly as they approached the entryway.

"Hey there." she greeted awkwardly.

"Nice to meet ya!" Greg smiled.

The smaller of the two ran over to Amethyst and pulled her into a massive bear hug. "Hi!!" he shouted into her ear, nearly squeezing the life out of her. "My name's Steven! It's so cool that I met another mermaid like me! You shoulda told me that back when I gave you the free lemonade!" he rambled.

"Steven, you might wanna give her some space." Greg warned, nudging Steven so that he'd loosen his grip.

"Ah, uh, it's fine." Amethyst awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck once he let go.

"As you probably already know, this is Steven," Rose began, gesturing to her son. "And this is my husband, Greg!" she continued, gesturing to the taller man. He looked rather similar to Steven, but taller, a tad heavier, and with longer hair and and a scruffy, greying beard.

"I gave her some lemonade yesterday!" Steven repeated, bouncing from foot to foot. "And she was really nice to me. Who'd've thunk she'd end up spending the night at our house, huh?"

"What a small world, huh?" Rose chuckled. "While I help your father put groceries away, would you like to finish giving her a tour of the house? I already showed her the guest room."

"Yes!" Steven said, extending a hand towards Amethyst. The latter cautiously accepted it -- geez, this kid sure was affectionate -- and allowed him to lead her out of the living room and into the hallway.

"Alright, so... This is the bathroom, but you probably already know that." Steven said, pointing to the bathroom door. "That's my mom and dad's room! Make sure you always knock before you go in there. And this my bedroom! You don't have to knock for me -- well, unless I'm getting dressed. Then you should knock."

"How would I know you're getting dressed if --" she began, but Steven suddenly tugged her hand once again and led her into his room. "Come look inside! I just cleaned it yesterday, so mom won't mind!"

The room was filled with posters, brightly colored dolls, plastic dinosaurs, and stuffed animals. One thing that caught her eye, however, was the box in the corner of the room. It had two antennae sticking from the top, and behind its glass screen was a moving, talking picture. 'What the hell...?' Amethyst thought, extending a hand and touching the glass. The static tingled her fingers, and the surface was a little hot.

"This is my favorite show! It's called Crying Breakfast Friends." Steven said, plopping down onto a bean bag chair. But he immediately got back up and leapt to his feet. "Oh, do you wanna see my Neopets?"

Amethyst raised an eyebrow. She was gonna ask what the hell a "show" referred to in this context, and how that related to the moving pictures inside the box, but now she was even more curious as to whatever the hell a Neopet was. "Uh, sure thing, kiddo." Amethyst awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck.

"Let's go!" Steven exclaimed, and just like that, she was grabbed by the hand once more and dragged back down the stairs. 

* 

Pearl checked her reflection in her compact mirror; her hair was neat and tidy, her lipgloss was shimmery as always, and there was no spinach from breakfast stuck in her teeth. Everything was up to standard for visiting the beautiful woman that was Rose -- and the mermaid, too. As she heard footsteps in the house, she puffed out her chest and took a deep breath. 'Alright, just keep your cool.' she thought, her heart fluttering as she anticipated Rose's arrival at the door.

"Good afternoon!" Rose said, smiling warmly at Pearl and Garnet.

"Good afternoon, Rose!" Pearl cooed, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Hey." Garnet shyly greeted, waving a hand.

"Ah, so... Garnet and I were wondering, uh... how our... friend was doing?" Pearl asked, anxiously wringing her hands.

Rose smiled, but there was a bit of nervousness beneath her expression. "Oh, um! She's doing alright." she said. "Come on in!" She headed back inside, gesturing for the two to follow.

"Would either of you like a popsicle?" Greg called from the kitchen. "It's a real scorcher outside today!"

"Oh, certainly!" Pearl said, and Garnet simply nodded as they both reached for one.

"Steven?" Rose said as she approached the computer room, narrowing her eyes. "What are you doing? I thought you were giving her a tour of the house."

"We're all finished! She wanted to see my Neopets after that, so I'm showing her!" Steven said. With one hand on the computer mouse, and one hand holding a bright red popsicle, he turned to his mother and the guests with a cherry juice-stained smile. "Oh, hey, antique store ladies!" he said.

As Pearl turned her gaze from the familiar little boy, she spotted a familiar head of lilac hair. She held a grape popsicle in her hand, her lips tinged a slight shade of purple. She was leaning back in her chair in a way that made Pearl anxious, and as her gaze shifted downward towards the breezy white skirt she was wearing, her heart sank down into her stomach.

Two legs. 

"Oh, hey." the woman said, waving a hand. She made a moment of short eye contact with Pearl, an unreadable expression in her eyes, and then looked over to Garnet. "Came over to see how I'm holding up, huh? That's nice of ya."

"She gave us quite a scare last night!" Rose laughed nervously. "She passed out drunk in one of the worst possible places. Thankfully Pearl was there to find her. If she hadn't, it could've been pretty bad."

Garnet smiled warmly; behind her sunglasses, though, Pearl knew she was incredibly confused, and possibly a tad concerned. "That's good to know. I'm glad she's alright." she responded.

"Ah... I'm glad, too!" Pearl said, her voice wavering. "E-excuse me for a moment. I need to visit the lavatory." And without another word she scurried off.

An awkward silence filled the room, save for the clicking of the computer mouse as Steven fed his virtual animals.

"So, uh... You from around here?" Amethyst asked.

"Yes. Pearl and I live at the antique store across the street." Garnet responded.

"Whoa, you live at a store?" Amethyst's jaw dropped. "Where do you sleep? I hope you sell beds there."

Rose burst into laughter. "Isn't she hilarious?" she teased, ruffling Amethyst's hair; but the purple-haired woman's expression remained serious.

A smile broke Garnet's lips. "There's an apartment above the store." she reassured, chuckling a little. "With beds. No beds in the store itself, though, unfortunately."

"Ohh..." Amethyst said. "Well, I'd love to take a stroll over there one day! I love antiques, maybe get my hands on a couple fancy teapots or some shit."

Steven gasped dramatically. "Ooh, Amethyst! You're gonna get soap in your mouth!"

Amethyst raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

"She's an adult, she can say the S word if she wants." Rose said. "And where did you even get that idea? I have never made you eat soap!"

"Well yeah, because I never cuss." Steven stated proudly.

Garnet glanced back in the direction Pearl had gone, her smile fading. "I'm going to make sure Pearl is alright. I'll be right back." She turned and left, heading down the hallway and up the stairs towards the bathroom. 

* 

She knocked on the door. "Pearl? Are you alright?" she asked.

Silence. Then, the door creaked open, and she faced a teary-eyed Pearl.

"I promise I'm not playing a prank on you..." she whispered, her gaze falling down to her feet. "You probably think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"No. Hell no. Come on, Pearl..." Garnet extended her arms for a hug, but Pearl pulled away and hurried back towards the bath tub. "That aside, crazy is such a cruel word -- "

"I'm telling you, Garnet, it was real!" she blurted out, clenching her fists at her sides. "I saw the mermaid tail, I saw Rose bring her up here, and she placed her in the bath tub, and..." Pearl peered into the bath tub, squinting for anything, any remains of evidence that a mermaid had been there; perhaps a stray scale had fallen off?

Garnet placed a hand on Pearl's shoulder, but removed it once she noticed Pearl tensing up with discomfort. "You know... The heat yesterday broke records." she began softly, sitting down on the edge of the bath tub. "If I'd spent the whole day in a hot store like you did, well... I'd start seeing things myself."

Pearl's heart sank. Any chance of Garnet believing her was gone... And at this point, Pearl was beginning to doubt herself. Brushing away tears, she seated herself on the floor. "Please... don't tell anyone about this."

Garnet nodded in understanding. "I won't. I promise. You're alright, Pearl. I doubt this sort of thing will happen again... And if it does, that'd still be okay. And it definitely wouldn't make you 'crazy', it'd just mean you need to see a therapist."

Pearl leaned against Garnet's thigh. "Alright... I suppose that's true." she sighed, sitting upright. "Thank you. I - I think I needed to hear that."

Garnet smiled. "Of course. Let's head home now, alright?" She rose to her feet and extended a hand towards Pearl, helping her up from the floor.

Pearl forced a smile. "Good idea. I guess we've seen what we needed to see, heh..."

The two headed out of the bathroom and down the stairs. 

* 

Once the two guests were gone, Rose allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Guilt wracked her heart as she remembered how distressed and confused Pearl had been... But she attempted to shake it off, reminding herself that it was for the safety of everyone involved -- including Pearl.

"Damn, I feel kinda bad for those girls..." Amethyst said, leaning against the doorway of the computer room. "They came over expecting a mermaid, and all they got was some bitch with legs." she snorted with amusement, licking the remains of her popsicle from the stick.

Rose wrung her hands anxiously. "Me too, but it's for your own safety... Not to mention mine and Steven's." she said, turning her gaze towards her son, who was still wrapped up in his computer game. "Hopefully they won't ask any more about it..." Her heart ached. She had a feeling, deep down in her gut, that this wouldn't be the end of it. 

* 

Pearl unlocked the door and flipped around the open sign. The past weekend had been incredibly awkward, with Garnet constantly trying to reassure Pearl that everything was okay, and Pearl far too embarrassed to even acknowledge what had happened at Rose's house. But today was a new day. The weather was going to be in the seventies, and tourists were already out walking around with ice cream in their hands and sunburnt skin. They were going to have better sales than they did on Saturday, and Pearl was determined to make it happen!

As she made her way towards the register (casually avoiding eye contact with Garnet, who was straightening up a shelf), she heard the ding of the bell above the front door. She immediately perked up and spun around, beginning their usual introduction, "Welcome to Semi-Precious Antiques! I hope you find-" but trailed off as soon as she saw that it was Rose -- and the lilac haired girl was right behind her. "...what you're looking for."

"Good morning, Pearlie!" Rose greeted with a chuckle. The shorter girl, however, was immediately drawn to the antiques on the shelves. "Whoaaa... Holy shit, look at this!" she said, grabbing a glass conch shell and holding it up to her ear. "Hello, anyone there?" she said in a goofy voice, pretending it was a phone.

Pearl's eye twitched. "Ah, that one is only two dollars, if you're interested!" she said with a forced smile.

"Oh, that's not too bad! Do you think you want it, Amethyst?" Rose asked.

"Eh, maybe. I've seen better conches in my day. This one feels kinda fake." Amethyst shrugged, casually placing it back on the shelf with a clink that made Pearl's skin crawl.

"It is fake." Garnet said. "We keep our real shells and other sea things over here." She pointed over to a plastic box on a nearby table, filled to the brim with various sea shells and shimmering beach glass. There was a paper sign on the side that read "50c each, 3 for a dollar."

"Fifty cents, huh? That's like, two lemonades." Amethyst said, peering inside the box. "Ohh, you gotta sand dollar!" she gasped as she pulled a flat, round shell out of the box, holding it up in the air. "You girls wanna see something cool?"

"Always." Garnet grinned, leaning back against the counter.

Amethyst cracked the sand dollar open with one hand like an egg and caught the little dove-shaped pieces inside in her other hand. "Lookit this! Ain't that the coolest thing ever? These little guys used to be alive -- kinda like a starfish or a sea urchin -- and..." She held up the little pieces inside. "These were its teeth!"

Pearl gritted her own teeth; part of her was tempted to remark that they needed to pay for that, now that it was damaged, but the smiles on Garnet and Rose's face kept her lips sealed.

"That's interesting... Never heard that they were a living creature. And especially not that those were its teeth..." Garnet chuckled. "I remember a Sunday school teacher from my childhood calling them 'doves'."

"Doves? They look more like moths to me. Or even seagulls." Amethyst shrugged. "By the way, Rose, you got fifty cents on you? I'm assuming these girls have a 'break it, buy it' policy."

"I sure do!" Rose said, fishing a couple dimes out of the back pocket of her denim shorts. She approached Pearl at the counter, who gratefully took the change and entered it into the register.

"Steven might stop over today, you know." Rose began. "Do you need him to bring you girls a drink?"

"Oh, that'd be lovely! But only if he has the spare time, of course. I know how hard that little guy works at his lemonade stand..." she said with a chuckle, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. But her flirty mood immediately disappeared as she spotted Amethyst climbing up a shelf lined with china tea sets, and nearly choked on her own spit.

"What on God's green earth are you doing?!" she exclaimed; her outburst startled Amethyst, causing her to fall down from her place on the shelf, and a wave of dishes fell down with her, landing on the wooden floor with a crash.

"Ouch..." Amethyst rubbed the back of her head, and Garnet hurried over to help her stand back up. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

"Eh, I'll be fine." she shrugged, looking at the pile of broken glass around her. "You should be asking the tea cups that question, hah!"

Pearl, on the other hand, was a little less sympathetic. "Are you planning to pay for those?" she huffed, crossing her arms as she approached them.

"Uh..." Amethyst turned her gaze towards Rose, who had clasped a hand over her face in shame. "I would if I could, but..."

Pearl immediately regretted her words; Amethyst didn't even have fifty cents to her name, meaning Rose would be the one responsible for it. "Well... I'll let it slide this time. Wouldn't want to punish my dear friend for your clumsy actions." she sighed, heading over to the closet for her broom and dustpan.

"Hey, I woulda been just fine if you hadn't scared the shit out of me." Amethyst grumbled.

"Well, you should know better than to climb up on shelves in an antique store! Seriously, were you raised in a barn?"

"I should be asking you that. You've got the face and legs of a starving horse." Amethyst snorted.

"Excuse me?"

"Girls, please." Rose interrupted, stepping between Pearl and Amethyst before it could escalate. "Amethyst, you really shouldn't have been climbing up there like that. And calling her names isn't necessary, either." she said, glaring down at the shorter woman, who crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Pearl grinned smugly, but Rose shut her right down when she turned her gaze towards her. "And Pearl, you should be a bit more kind. It was a genuine accident, even if she was being reckless."

Pearl glared at Amethyst for a moment; then, she crouched down on the floor and began to sweep up the broken glass. "Forgive me for being harsh, Amethyst. I've had... a very long weekend. And with how business has been going these past few weeks, well... We can't afford to have customers breaking valuables."

"I'll pay for the damages." Rose reassured.

"That won't be necessary -- " Pearl began, but Rose had already fished three ten-dollar bills out of her purse. Pearl's heart fluttered, and she hesitantly accepted the money. "...Thank you, Rose."

"No problem." Rose said, smiling warmly to assure Pearl that all was well. She then turned to Amethyst. "Alright, girlie, you wanna head over and get some funnel cakes?"

"Hell yeah!" Amethyst grinned. As the two made their way out of the shop, Amethyst whispered, "What is that again?"

Once they were gone, Pearl let out a deep sigh and went back to sweeping up the glass. Garnet watched from the other side of the room -- well, with her sunglasses it was hard to tell, but Pearl could just feel when she was being watched. "...What?"

"Are you alright?" Garnet said, making her way over and grabbing another broom so she could help. "You really seem on edge today..."

"You'd be on edge, too." Pearl sighed.

"I guess so." Garnet shrugged. "I'm not blaming you. But if there's anything I can do to help, I -- "

The bell rang once more as the door swung open, smacking against the wall. "PEARL! I forgot something!" Amethyst shouted, causing both Garnet and Pearl to jump.

"...What?" Pearl hissed through her teeth.

"Sorry for calling you a horse." Amethyst said, and then closed the door again before Pearl could even respond.

Pearl let out a long, deep sigh. It was only 11 am, and she knew she had a long day ahead of her.

[imnotasuperhero]

Quick Trimberly story.

Big day for Kimberly means Trini being trapped on her pit crew.

Both girls share the passion for F1 racing yet, both of them in different ways. Kim is the team’s star driver. She loves the adrenaline and the risks. Being a single child, she gets what she wants. Always. On the other hand, Trini prefers the safety and the calmness that being behind the scenes provides her.

“Is it ready?” Kimberly asks Trini, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Almost” she answers without looking at her. “Can you turn it on?”

“Sure thing” Kim turns on the engine, making the car come to life. “Oh yes, baby! That’s how I like it” Trini smiles widely at the sound that inundates the room. Kim would be lying if she denied the fact that Trini’s  words didn’t have an effect on her. “Seems like you have to win that trophy” Trini cleaned her hands on her overall to close the hood. “It’ll make your dad happy”

“Don’t remind me. He’s been a pain in the ass lately” Kimberly followed her to the group. “Thanks for checking on it at the last minute”

“No problem, princess” Trini enjoys calling her that. “Hey, Ryan! Car’s ready. Take it to the track” Trini threw the keys as she exited the garage.

She loved those moments when she could tease Kimberly as if it was nothing. Being the daughter of Kim’s dad’s best friend meant knowing her since they were babies. They used to be really close as kids, she even enjoyed Kimberly’s company. But life happens and so does shit.

“You know she keeps looking at you like a lion stares at its prey. Right?” Zack said as Trini sits beside him.

“Keep talking bullshit and I’ll attack you like a lion attack its prey” she replied rolling her eyes.

“You know I’m just being honest” Zack shrugged, watching as Kimberly walked toward them.

“You all came” she smiles fondly at her friends.

“I wouldn't dream of skipping one of your most important races” Jason ruffled her hair, making her laugh.

“You’ll do it great, Kimmy!” Billy smiled at her.

“Thanks,  buddy” She sighed as the speakers came to life, announcing the opening ceremony. “Hope your magic works,” she said looking at Trini with a  soft smile.

“If it doesn’t, I’ll punch myself” she joked as she started to walk to the pits, leaving their friends on the benches.

It  was the 50th lap when Kimberly parked in her pit box, jumping from the car as the team started to work on it for the second time. Anxiety running through her body, as the other pilots kept driving. Just 5 more laps and the race will be over, just...

“Keep calm, darling. You’ll make it” Trini’s father wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Believe in yourself”

“Thank you, Robert” Kim smiled at him, his eyes filled with support. “Trini is doing great. You should give her more credit.” this time, she looks at  Trini, who was working on her car with the rest of the team. A frown on her face and her tongue showing between the teeth. Her hands itched at the need of rubbing Trini’s forehead to stop her from frowning.

“I know she is, kiddo. She’s learned from the best.” A smirk on his face, making Kim laugh.

“Kim, It’s ready” Trini jogged toward them, a confident look in her eyes. “Go kick some ass, princess”

“I always do” Kimberly winked at her before returning to the tracks.

“She cares for you” Trini’s dad spoke the words. “I still don’t get why you keep pushing her away”

“We’re  not the same kids anymore. Life happens and I’m comfortable with this” she sighed, calming her heart from what Kimberly does to her. “Now let's  go to the front”

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

Her stress levels were increasing notably as the flag waved, signaling the last lap. All she could think about was Trini. The girl was her biggest fan, even if she didn’t show it.  Before they fell apart, Trini had told her everything. Kimberly missed the friendship between them. There wasn’t a single moment where she stopped wondering what had happened between them that Trini kept pushing her away.

Charles passed her in a blink, bringing her back to the reality. She has to get back to the first place, no matter what. She speeds up with a few shifts on the gearbox. Determination running inside her as she gets Charles’ side, she gives him a quick smirk before she works her magic.

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

Trini  can feel her heart threatening to leave her chest as Kimberly positions herself back in the first place. Just a few more meters and she’ll make her dream come true. The same dream Kimberly has talked about since she was 13 when Trini’s dad brought them both to their first F1 race. The girl fell in love with the speed the cars move. She’s always been the rebel of them both and the one who always made Trini fear for her  life as she couldn’t resist her friend’s fun ideas.

The  loud cheers around her made her jump, looking to the track in the exact  moment as Kimberly took off her helmet. Trini wanted to punch herself  for the image forming in her head. Kimberly’s short locks wild as she shakes her head, the sweat drops on her forehead shine bright against  her tan skin thanks to the sunlight. Trini’s mouth goes dry as she observes Kimberly wink at her at the time she let the top of her racing suit fall down to her waist, revealing a pink sports bra.  She wished to be straight right then and there. Maybe that way, the heat   between her legs would disappear.

“We did it!”  Ryan had ruffled Trini’s hair, making her blink twice to stop her from  wondering how nice it would be to have Kimberly in her bed.

“We can breathe now” she sighed as Kimberly’s dad made her way to her, hugging her with a proud smile on his lips.

“It’s  good to know that” Ryan joked, squeezing her shoulder before making his  way to the team.

They all cheering and celebrating the victory. Trini, for her part, decided to go with her friends, she couldn’t breathe with the image of Kimberly almost topless.

“Feeling  proud?” Jason welcomed her with a big smile. He knew the pressure Trini feels every time she is in charge of Kimberly’s car.

“More like calm. I can live without my dad breathing down my neck” she sighed at the fact of it. “At least for now”

“Oh come on, you’re great with cars. You’ll be my mechanic when I finally get mine” He assured her.

“I don’t think it’ll happen. I’m planning to quit it” Trini dropped the bomb.

“What? You can’t quit! You love being around cars and working on them” Zack said, clearly shocked.

“My  gay levels are on top every time I stare at her. I have enough sharing  time with her when we hang out. I can’t fight it anymore” she sighed, sitting on the benches beside Billy.

“Don’t fight it, then. Ask her out” Billy grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “It’s time for you to find out how she feels.”

“I’ve been running from her for 3 years now. I can’t just tell her that I like her. It would be...”

“It would be, what?” a voice behind her made Trini freeze. Panic taking over her whole body.

“HERE’S OUR CHAMPION!” Zack greeted her with a huge smile. “You gave us a hard time back there”

“I’m  sorry. I had to keep it down until the last minute” Kimberly joked. “I  can’t believe I won.” she sighed, a smile on her face.

“Believe  it. It’s real” Jason squeezed her shoulder. “We’re going with the guys.  See you later.” Trini hated them for leaving her alone.

“So...  You like me, huh?” Kim sat beside her. “Is that why you keep pushing me  away?” Trini sensed the hurt in her voice, her heart aching.

“Look,”  Trini closed her eyes, trying to order her mind. “I’m sorry this happened. I was alright and suddenly, you got under my skin and before I could stop it, it already happened. You can hate me all you want,  I’ll...”

“I could never hate you, Trin” Kimberly took her hand  between her own. “You did nothing for me to hate you. I wish you could’ve told me this before, though”

“What for? So you can make fun of me?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Kimberly’s, trying to find the truth in them.

“I  wish you could see yourself the way I see you” Kimberly’s hand went to Trini’s cheek, cupping it while her thumb caressing the skin. “You mean so much more than you think, to me. You’re the best girl I could ever hope to meet.” Trini let herself enjoy the moment before it ended. “I couldn’t  live with myself if I hated you”

“Why are you doing this?” Trini pushed her face away from Kimberly’s hand. “Why are you saying sweet nothings to me if you’ll reject me?”

“Who said I’ll reject  you?” a frown on her face. “God, Trini. I love you! Why can’t you see  it? I’ve been in love with you for the last year”

“For real?” Trini voice small as her eyes met Kimberly’s.

“For someone who is surrounded by guys, you’re pretty slow” Kimberly teased before leaning in and kissing her softly. Lips dancing with shyness.

“You’re not so bad at compliments, princess” Trini smiled into the kiss. Her tongue rubbing Kim’s lower lip, asking her for permission.

“Shut up, loser” Kim accepted her request, her hands landing on Trini’s lower back.

[sammyhale]

J2 Main Panel SeaCon 2017

Boys joke around with Rob and Rich. 

Talking about their kids. Jensen jokes that three is the magic number apparently lol. 

Jared talks about being daddy to a daughter. Jensen points and laughs :P

They wrap on Wednesday the 26th for s12. Some cool stuff coming up, they read the last couple episodes. Jared didn’t expect it to go where it went. “Writers are surprising me still.” 

Fan to Jared: What conditioner do you use? Jensen gets up and acts like he’s paying the fan for asking that lol. 

Jensen: Inquiring minds want to know. Jared laughs: I spent many years just kind of using whatever is available. Jensen mocks him. Jared: I see you on the TV! Jensen: Good!

Jared does bunny ears to Jensen so it appears on screen. Jared: Beanie conditioner. That’s my secret trick. 

Jensen won’t let it go lol. Jensen: Answer her question. Do you use conditioner? Jared: Yeah if it’s there. Jensen: Every time you shampoo? Audience: Ohh! Jared: Ooh, shit just got real! Jensen: Do you shampoo then conditioner? Jared: I’m thinking! Says he used the hotel shampoo and conditioner. Jensen: Ahh there it is!! 

Jared squeezes Jensen’s chest. After touching him: There’s Jensen on me. 

Advice for people that constantly fuck up. Jensen jokes: Stop. Jared: You can’t stop. I mean it, y’all are gonna make a mistake. Jared talked with his psychiatrist about being concerned he’s gonna mess up his kids. The doctor told him he would. Jared: That’s not reassuring! The doctor said the point is you have a mindset that you’ll look at whatever the mistake was and figure out the why and where it came from and forgive yourself.

Jensen: However, don’t just forgive yourself and then continue, learn from your mistakes. Jared nods in agreement. 

Favorite season finale to film? Jared says finale are very hard because they’re exhausting and then it’s the biggest ep of the year. 

Jensen talks about the end of s1 when Baby gets hit with them inside. The three Winchester men and the car in peril. 

At that time they didn’t know they were coming back, so it was weird saying goodbye to the crew and the characters, not knowing. Instead of recent seasons, where they know they are getting ready (thanks for s13). 

Jensen asks Jared hardest finale to film for him. Jared says s8. Jensen: I’m gonna speak for both of us and say we haven’t filmed it yet. That’s gonna be a tough one. 

Jared: Do any of y’all want to visit during the series finale? 

Jared wants to raise money for charity and all watch it together somewhere. 

(At some point): Fan: I’m a really big Jensen fan. Jared: I am, too.

A fan said they had heard that during a scene where Jared died in his arms, when they called cut Jensen continued holding Jared and crying; fan wants to know if that’s true? Jensen admits that it’s true, tries to say he just had something in his eye, though, lol <3 

Jared: We care about Sam and Dean just as much as you guys do. We want to make sure to give them the gravity they deserve. 

Jensen talks about how in your mind you know it’s not real, but your body doesn’t know. Says that Jared brought up an interesting point about how it feels where you go through something traumatic and emotional and how it has an effect on you. It impacts the viewer; it also impacts J2 when they read it in the script. They use that to portray it during the scene. There is real emotion that lives inside of them and it’s not just the character’s emotion. Sometimes it’s hard to turn off. Can’t just tell your body to stop. 

Jared to Jensen: When do you feel like in performing Dean’s lines it took over you the most? Jared says he has an idea which scene, but wants to know what Jensen’s answer is. Jensen says it was when Dean talks to Sam about hell and Jared says yeah, that’s what he was thinking. Jensen had to walk it off. Jared’s was Croatoan, when he couldn’t shut off the tears.

Jared gives an emotional fan some love, reminds her that everyone in the room is her family and has her back.

How do they feel about JDM as Negan on The Walking Dead? They are very proud. Jensen: We both know Jeff very well and he’s a sincerely kind and beautiful man. To play that much of a badass, I was proud because he killed it. He’s that talented. That made his two sons very proud. Jared: Yeah. Similar but slightly different reaction: Man, I am such a better hunter than dad. He’s having trouble with zombies??

The boys perform a scene from The Walking Dead, making fun of how easy it would be to deal with the walkers. Jared plays the zombie. Jensen plays “anyone take your pick” Jensen just walks away while zombie!Jared stumbles around. 

Jared: Very proud of him, love Jeff! 

Jensen talks about a scene where Negan is shooting at people. Jared teases him about spoilers. Jensen: Have you seen Titanic? It sinks. Jared: Three hours of my life. Jensen: Wish someone would have told me that. 

Regarding the SPNFamily, they felt it was a family after doing some of the conventions. Jensen says years ago he realized it wasn’t just about the actors or people onstage, that there were people coming together because of a common theme or thing that they all had in common. Their love for this show and characters. 

Jared agrees. Says it’s his favorite part about coming to cons. You’re here hanging out with your friend, it’s not just about us. When he sees people that met because of the show or conventions it warms his heart. He thinks about friends he’s made going to Pearl Jams concerts and music festivals. Loves to see those connections.

Even little, sweet moments, like earlier in Jared’s m&g when a mother and daughter were sitting three seats apart and one of the other fans moved just so they could sit together. Jared loves that: we’re all here ‘cause we love each other. 

Jensen talks about fans meeting on the internet, “chatrooms and blog spaces...” The boys didn’t know about Richard Speight’s #DickChat he’s being doing on Creation Entertainments Snapchat all weekend. When the fans yell Dickchat at them, their faces are priceless. Jensen: I’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing anymore. Jared: Oh, Richard!

Asked about favorite Disney movies? Jared says Jensen’s is The Little Mermaid. Jensen: Don’t knock Ariel.

Jared: I wrote a paper on this in high school. The Lion King. Says it was more than a guilty pleasure. Jensen is smiling and shaking his head. Jared wanted to be JTT (Jonathan Taylor Thomas). He wrote a paper how on Star Wars, The Lion King and the movie The Natural and the archetypes in all those stories. Jared: And now I get to play a character that gets to play similar archetypes. 

Jared to Jensen: Sing? Or Elsa? Jensen: At this point it is whatever my daughter’s favorite movie is. The good thing is that it changes weekly. Right now it’s Sing. Out of all the songs she only wants to hear the rock song the character Ash sings. Jensen just has to tap his foot and JJ busts out into song.

Jensen: If I have to pick one of the classics, maybe Aladdin. You know why? ‘Cause I can show you the world. Jared facepalms. Jensen: In shining shimmery splendor. Jared: Tell me- Jensen: Princess, now when did you last let your heart decide? BOOM! 

Jared says that if his three-year-old is having a tantrum, he plays the 

Jared my three year old if he’s having a tantrum I’ll play the Pineapple Pen song and it calms him down lol. 

Jensen: Don’t look it up. Save yourself. So disturbing. 

Fan asks if they or Sam and Dean would consider giving up humanity for powers, like angel or demon? Jared: No. Jensen shakes head in agreement. Jared says one of the themes Jared really enjoys is what it’s like to be ultimately powerful or flawed. Loves the humanity on the show and struggling with what it is to be human. Wouldn’t trade imperfection for perfection. 

Jared notices that Jensen is smiling to himself about something. Jared: What are you thinking about because you have a weird look on your face? Jensen was thinking about a reference to Young Frankenstein he made while Jared was answering the question. 

They start whispering and laughing to each other. 

Jensen says he wants to do the Young Frankenstein “Puttin’ on the Ritz” where Dr. Frankenstein and the Creature are singing together (YouTube clip from the movie). Jensen set its up impersonating Frankenstein and Jared finishes impersonating the Creature. Jensen: Yes!! Dear diary, it finally happened 

Jared would bring Ruby back from the dead. Jensen: Dad. 

Asked about favorite dance moves. Jared does one and starts giggling. J2 start dancing on stage togehter!! Cracking up. 

Fan: Best day of my life! 

Jensen: Ahh cramp, cramp! Jared: Pulled a hammy!

Jared did “fancy feat” and Jensen did the Running Man into the Roger Rabbit.

Fan asks J2 about the s1 UK “Scary Just Got Sexy” promo they did. Jared holds up the fan’s iPad to the camera so everyone can watch it onscreen (link to promo). 

J2 start dancing on stage again. 

Jared: That was scary and sexy. Jensen I remember that ad. J2: together: Scary. Just. Got. Sexy.

For that ad they brought the woman in white back and it was shot in Vancouver. Jensen remembers because the budget was small and it wasn’t visual effects of the blood coming down the wall. It was real. When it comes down the wall Jensen didn’t move away quickly enough the first time and they had to clean up his leather jacket. He had to hurry away so it wouldn’t happen again lol. Jared: Thanks for the trip down memory lane. 

Jensen talks about how it’s not difficult for them to include changes in their characters because they have experienced what the characters have gone through from performing them on camera. Makes it easier to add those things into the character. Jensen says that the characters never really change; they grow in wisdom and experiences but their core has always been solid and the foundation of who they are and the show. 

Jared agrees, says they aren’t method actors but, for example, in a couple hours they’re gonna head back to Vancouver so they can be up at 6 the next day and they will spend 12-14 hours filming maybe two minutes of screen time. So during shooting they are living in the moment. They also encourage each other while filming, like saying hey, do that again, etc. Says that most of the writers are new; a good, talented writer will look at Jensen and Jared and write the characters based on the sensibilities J2 bring to them. 

Acting advice: Jared: Just act. Go to a local theater, do it with your buddies, put it on YouTube, do it to perform. You can tell a story, entertain, enlighten; don’t forget why you’re acting. Jensen brings up Steven Spielberg and how he started out with his dad’s 8mm camera just making stories he loved. We can do that with phones. Put stuff out there. Work begets work. 

Jared: Whoever you are, you have a story to tell. Figure that out and tell it. Like with he and Jensen with Sam and Dean Winchester. 

Favorite part about being parents? Jensen: Many things. One that comes to mind immediately, something as simple as taking my asleep three and a half year old and carrying her up the stairs to bed. That does it for me. 

Jensen: Recently they were in Dallas visiting his family. Staying downtown went to the aquarium, and halfway through JJ fell asleep in his arms. It was about a mile back to the hotel. Uphill. Carried her the entire way. She’s like 40 pounds but dead weight and wrapped him. His dad asked if he wanted him to take over. Jensen said, Nope, I got this. Really cool moment. 

Jared says he loves the little things, too. He and Jensen have had some really cool life experiences. Meet all sorts of people, lots of travelling. Jared says in his 34 years he’s been very blessed, and it’s human nature to get jaded and turn it into “well, that’s just life.” However, with his kids, he gets to re-experience things for the first time. Like a butterfly flying. The kids love it and it’s exciting again. Living life over again and re-experiencing how wonderful it really can be. The wonder that his kids have is infectious. He learns from them as much as he hopes they learn from him. 

Jared mentions the weird crazy room and the ball lights. Jensen laughs. Jared grabs Jensen’s shoulder and shakes him a little while laughing.

During the last question, “Kmart” (aka Kreespa) offers to film the girl onstage. Jared asks Kmart if she knows her; she doesn’t. Jared brings back what he was saying about how the fandom has that connection with each other and offers to do things like that and how cool it is. 

Last question: How does it feel to be a part of this the family? Jared: for me it’s humbling. To feel a connection to somebody and how it reminds him to see the best in people and in himself. Small random acts of kindness. It’s a neat blessing.

Jensen: Yeah, humbling is certainly a great word to describe it. Also, accountability. I could be selfish and live my life for me. I know that I can’t do that because I have children. My life just isn’t mine anymore. I get to share it with so many more people. He is fueled by that inspiration. 

Richard tells them about Dickchat. Jensen: I thought we moved on from that. Rob: You never move on. Richard records them for Snapchat. Jared gives a thumbs up in front of the audience and cracks up when Jensen yells “Dickchat!” into Richard’s phone lol. 

Info via: Fangasm, Jess, Kristin, Sil’s livetweet list, StageIt livestream

[supernatural-idjit-95]

The Curses We Utter, Pt. 11

“Kryptonite”

Series Masterlist Summary: The reader, Dean and Sam find the demons they were looking for - or more so, they find you…and shit goes down, of’ real.

Word Count: 6380

Warnings: *TRIGGER WARNINGS!! Use of needle, non-consensual drug use, reader is drugged, inability to fight back, sort of blindfolded, violence, drug-induced coma, hurt reader, angst, near death, blood loss, light smut, wow this chapter sounds diabolical.

You were being drug down the hallway; kicking, screaming, and blind. The thick black bag over your head smelled like someone's gym socks, and left no room to see through the other side.

As soon as it happened, you could hear Dean yelling, then a struggle at the bottom of the stairs. There were more of them, and they were tearing you apart.

'Focus. Focus!!!' You told yourself. You ceased your struggle altogether, knowing that it was more important to feel and hear the things going on around you than to scream aimlessly at the demons. They knew no mercy, and couldn't be persuaded. There was no reasoning with things that didn't understand reason at all.

You knew how many had you; one was on each arm, dragging you, and a third had gut-punched you from behind and tossed the bag over your head; and you could hear his stomps leading the way down the hall. 'I'll be sure to kill that son of a bitch first.'

After a couple more steps and more severe carpet burn to your lower back, you were yanked to your right. Your head slammed into a doorjam as you were being drug into a room, and you heard something crash and shatter downstairs. You were panicking; you didn't know how to summon the power inside you while blind…and you cursed yourself for never practicing.

"Stop- hold onto her." You heard one of their gruff voices say.

They stopped dragging you, and you heard the bedroom door shut. Immediately you began to struggle again, but were quickly stopped by someone heavy straddling your hips, holding your shoulders still with a forearm across your chest. You opened your mouth to yell, when you felt a sharp sting in your neck.

'Needle…'

Just like that, your head was swimming. You felt like you were floating, or maybe in a dream. The sluggishness was overwhelming... it was slow-motion, but worse.

Their bruising grips on your arms were released, and you knew you had to get the bag off your head. Clawing at the black canvas over your eyes, you weren't really sure of how fast you were moving. You could hear them talking, and could hear more noise coming from below you. Finally, tugging once more on the drawstring, it was off. Black spots clouded your vision, but they were slowly dissipating.

Three white-collar men- demons, stood in black suits in front of you.

"What…d-did you give…me?" You slurred your words, barely able to control your body. You were on all fours, trying to gain your ground to stand- but it was impossible with the room spinning so fast.

The tallest of the three, with brown crew-cut hair and blue eyes, grinned down at you. "A double dose of horse tranquilizers, with a supernatural kick, cupcake…" He winked at you, making you feel the urge to vomit. "…doesn't feel too good, does it?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, opening them again hoping to see more clearly- but to no avail. You pushed up with all your might to stand, but only to fall back down. Your heartbeat was pounding in your head, and your breathing was staggering quickly.

He stepped closer to you, kneeling down to you. "You took everything from us…" He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him through your drooping eyes.

"… now we're going to take everything from you…and it's gonna hurt." His words echoed in your head in a loop, and his voice was fuzzy in your throbbing ears.

Your vision left you then, and you felt a kick to your ribs that sucked every ounce of air from your lungs. The next kick landed on your spine, sending you reeling back to your stomach on the floor, gasping like a fish out of water.

Then, a large hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you up to your knees. Your eyes flew open, the black dots still perturbing your view.

'I can't…move…I can't fight…'

You could make out one of them in front of you; then felt a fist connecting with your jaw, making your vision fail you once more. Tasting the blood in your mouth, you drew in a shallow breath and tried again to move; but your muscles wouldn't let you.

Hearing their voices, you tried to concentrate on them. "…don't drain her…need her blood to lock her Daddy up…back where he belongs…"

'What…lock him up?'

KICK.

Another kick to your stomach left you breathless again; and you knew you couldn't take much more. The cracks and pops you were feeling wretched your body, knowing many ribs and bones were being broken in you. The feeling of sharp steel against your back made your stomach knot; and you felt it slide across your skin effortlessly. You screamed at the burning, white-hot pain that followed…and you felt the knife on your back again.

The pain grew to a level that in your mind, wasn't fathomable; your body was being sliced and carved into, kicked, and punched…and you were too drugged up to do a fucking thing about it. You just hoped it would end soon.

'All this power…and I can't even save my own ass…'

You held yourself on your forearms, trying again to heave yourself up; when a hand gripped your chin viciously once more, and you willed your eyes open. Blinking away the blood running into them, you saw the Demon who'd injected you on his knees in front of you, the other two beside him standing. You heard more struggling downstairs, and jerked your head toward the sound; until he forced your gaze back to his.

The Demon's eyes bore into you as he knelt before you, and he flashed you a white malicious smile. He held an Angel Blade to your face, displaying it to you insidiously. "Time to die, demon spawn…"

Just as you thought you were truly done, you saw a sight you'd never thought you would be that thankful to see…and you smiled.

"You…first…" You whispered, struggling to breathe.

Crowley was there behind them, and held an Angel Blade in each hand. He plunged each Blade into the Demon's henchmen simultaneously, sending the bodies they possessed crashing to the floor with a thud.

His lip curled at you wickedly, knowing his doom was lurking behind him. He turned his head to look…and you took your chance. Gathering every bit of strength you had left, your arm lashed out, snatching the Blade from the Demon in front of you.

He whipped back around to you with a loud growl and black eyes. Surprising yourself, you reared back to your knees, thrusting the Angel Blade into his chest; and as you watched him die and heard the screams leaving his mouth, you fell back into darkness.

"Bloody hell…what have they done?" Crowley's voice sounded so far away…this couldn't be real. You had to be dead. But the feeling of being scooped up, and the smell of sulphur filling your nose was all too real.

'Am I really alive…?'

You felt movement, and swaying back and forth in his arms as he walked; then you heard him speak again, much softer now.

"…you're the lion among us, love…don't quit now."

                                             ===DEAN'S POV===

There were so…many…demons.. There had to be at least a dozen waiting in the back room downstairs. They rushed out as soon as the other three grabbed (Y/n). I swear to god, my fucking heart stopped. They were tearing me one way, and her the other…and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

Sam came busting through the back door, with several more black-eyed douchebags behind him…and lemme say this: We fucking fought. We fought harder than we ever had. And while we took out as many as we could, I prayed…I prayed to Cas. 'Cause if Sam and I didn't make it through this (and it didn't look good, believe me), no one would be here to save her. And she had to make it out of there, if anyone deserved to make it outta that house alive…it was (Y/n). I knew that, and I could tell by the way Sam was fighting that he knew that, too.

I heard her scream…something was happening to her. And the sounds of her upstairs being hurt, beaten, almost cost me my life. One of those demons caught me off guard, and knocked my feet out from under me.

I really thought I was done; I thought that was it…until Cas popped up, holy light and all.

Once he was there, we were dropping 'em like flies. Bodies were hitting the floor left and right, and all I could think about was getting to those stairs.

And just when the last few demons ran through the back like fucking cowards, I saw him walking down the stairs with her.

'No no no…'

"Crowley! What happened?" I yelled, running to meet him at the bottom of the stairs.

(Y/n) was there in his arms…bloody, bruised, unconscious…I didn't want to look. Crowley handed her to me, and my knees were almost giving way. She had to be dead. There was so much blood…

"(Y/n)! Baby talk to me…" I looked at Crowley again, who held up a syringe to me.

I knelt down, and laid her on the carpet as gently as I could. Jesus, even bloody and swollen she still looked gorgeous.

"What the hell did they do to her?!" I screamed at him.

"Drugged her up, most likely…they knew it'd be the only way they could kill her." He told me.

"Tell me you killed them." I was glaring daggers at Crowley. He owed us, this was all because of him.

"They're dead…and don't worry, she got to do some of the justice herself." He replied.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her pulse was weak, and I could barely feel her breathing.

"L-Let's get her home." I looked at Sam and Cas, and they nodded at me. I tossed the keys to Sam, and picked (y/n) up as carefully as I could and followed him to the car. Crowley and Cas must've stayed to clean up the mess…I didn't ask, and I didn't bother looking back at that house either way.

I climbed into the backseat with her on my lap, and it was then that I felt just how cold she was. My flannel was off me and wrapped around her as fast as I could move. Talk about deja vu'…

Sam started Baby up, and had his foot on the gas in a heartbeat. And all I could do was hold onto her. I was so afraid she would stop breathing, I kept my hand on her chest to make sure it kept rising…and I'm man enough to admit it, I cried all the way back to the bunker.

                                          ===END DEAN'S POV===

Everything fucking hurt. You could feel every god damned muscle in your body throbbing; your head was spinning, and you hadn't even moved yet. The smell of whiskey, iodine, and rubbing alcohol filled your nose. The bed sheets you were wrapped in felt oddly like Dean's, which had to be impossible…because you were pretty certain you'd died.

The images came flooding back to you. The Demons, the beating, being drugged…and then Crowley. That was all you could remember, for the most part. In a dream, you could've sworn you were in the Impala with Dean and Sam, but that couldn't have been real…could it? You couldn't see anything, just…black. It reminded you of the time you drank 'African Dream Root'…with audio only.

Then you heard Sam. It was foggy, and at first you had trouble making out his words.

"…he said whatever they shot her up with must be keeping her down, like a drug-induced coma…" His words faded out, and faded back in. But you knew you heard the word 'coma'…

'So much for the whole 'floating above my own body' experience…' You thought.

"…just keep trying, Dean. Keep talking to her, it's only been a day. She'll wake up soon…how's the damage?" And like music to your ears, you heard Dean.

"Not great, Sam…I need to clean the stitches on her back and chest, after I get some more ice on her ribs." His tone was tight and militant, he sounded like he was an auto-pilot.

"Okay…I'm gonna go call Cas to find out if he and Crowley found anything yet. You good? I can stay with her if you need a break, man…" You heard Sam's footsteps leaving the room. You wish you heard what Dean had said back to him. It did sound like he needed a break.

Then, you felt something ice-cold being placed on your side. You flinched at the feeling, and realized you really were alive. Not all there, but alive nonetheless.

"Sweetheart? You awake?" Dean was speaking to you again, closer and more precise.

'He saw me move...' You thought.

"(Y/n)…can you hear me?" Dean's voice penetrated your senses. "Baby, if you can hear me…I'm right here. Please, please pull through this for me, okay? You've got to…you're the strongest person I know…" His words faded in and out again, like someone toying with the volume on a radio.

"…we've come a long way, I love you too damn much to lose you now…"

His voice broke up for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was with tears or with laughter.

"…it uh, it happened really fast between you and I, didn't it? Jesus, the moment I saw you I had to have you. I mean, you just came out of nowhere… but I knew you were mine. And when you wake up, I'm gonna do this right... I'm gonna marry you someday…"

You heart was soaring, but screaming on the inside, wishing you could hear more than pieces of what he was saying.

"…remember what your Dad said? We could have a terrible, miserable unfulfilled life together. We could have a couple of bratty kids… live in this crappy bunker the rest of our lives…" You were sure you heard him chuckle through tears.

"…and ya know, that doesn't sound too freakin' bad to me. Live the 'apple pie life', have a couple kids, the whole 9 yards…" He either paused or faded out again, but then the smell of whiskey filled your nose, and you heard him again.

"…princess, I'm game if you are…but you've gotta wake up first."

You felt a tingling sensation in your hand just then, almost like a pressure.

"(Y/n), c'mon sweetheart. Just squeeze my hand if you can hear me…" His voice was growing louder now, sparking hope inside of you. The odd sensation in your hand lingered, and you weren't sure if you could do what he was asking; but you squeezed anyways- at least you think you did.

"Sam!!" Dean yelled. "She can hear me!"

"What?! How do you know?" There was Sam's voice now…he sounded out of breath…like he'd ran back to the room.

"She squeezed my hand!" Dean said to Sam.

'He felt that!!' You jumped for joy on the inside…you might just pull through.

"That's incredible, Dean! Keep going!" Sam replied to him, and you could tell he was worried, but excited.

You knew you had to try…if you were truly being kept under by something, you had to fight. Your body should've been trying to heal itself by now, and you weren't sure why it hadn't…but then again, you never got to try that part out on yourself.

'Sam!' You remembered healing Sam from the stab wound Asmodeus inflicted on him. Was it possible you could try that on yourself?

You tried to relax, gathering every bit of energy you could, and focused it all on waking up.

'If I can just wake the fuck up, I can try to heal the rest later…or maybe Cas can help…who cares. I've gotta open my eyes.'

For a brief moment, you thought it wasn't working…that maybe you weren't strong enough. But suddenly, it felt as if you were being lassoed, and pulled back down from an extreme high; you felt the tips of your fingers tingling, and a falling sensation overtook you. The weight of being pulled back into consciousness was terrifying, and you wondered for a second if you'd actually made a mistake - until your eyes opened.

"Dean?"

Dean was there, hovering over you with an expression of relief you couldn't explain. The disheveled appearance of him startled you. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen as if he'd been crying, his skin ghostly pale, and his hair tousled about every which way. You could sense the source of the whiskey you smelled before…he was practically drenched in it. Sam was beside him, looking just the same, minus the whiskey…but smelling a lot like coffee. A lot of it.

'Holy shitballs. I woke myself up…where's my pocket confetti when I need it?!'.

"(Y/n), baby how do you feel?" Dean's voice broke, and his hands grazed over each of your shoulders like he was afraid to touch you.

Your eyes darted around the room, and you tried to sit up, but your body felt so heavy…and you could barely draw in a breath. A sharp pain prodded and seared in your side, causing your lungs to burn in exhaustion.

"No, don't try to move. Just talk to us. How do you feel?" Sam told you, placing a gentle but giant hand on the sheet covering your knee.

"It hurts. I can't breathe…" You pushed the words out of your dry mouth, and licked your cracked lips in attempt to wet them; but all that did was allow you to taste the dried blood that lingered. Your throat was sore, and your voice hoarse…you must have screamed more than you remembered.

Dean's face twisted in mental anguish at your words. He couldn't stand seeing you like this. Not allowing his weakness to show for long, he forced a tight smile on his face.

"I know. I know it hurts…Cas will be back soon. Can you drink for me?" Dean's hand shook as he grabbed a bottle of water from the bed-side table for you. "Don't move…okay?" He said, and you tried to nod back to him.

He slid his free hand behind your head, lifting it gently. Slowly, he brought the bottle to your lips, and you'd be damned if that water didn't taste like heaven.

You drank until he pulled it away slowly, pulling his chair closer to the bed next to you.

'I've gotta tell them what I heard those sons of bitches say about locking up Asmodeus…' You remembered.

"The demons, they were…" You exhaled slowly, getting too excited for your lungs to handle. "…talking about locking up my Dad…with my blood?" Your throat was on fucking fire. It sounded like you smoked 12 packs a day, and drank whiskey for a living.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then both turned back to you.

Sam's bitch-face startled you. "No." He said, warning you with his eyes. "No more talk about any of that until you're better. Okay?"

You looked at Dean, who smiled a little at least, but tossed his thumb back over his shoulder at his brother. "What he said."

Usually you would've protested, rolled your eyes, or sighed in annoyance; but that was out of the question, given your range of movement…so you settled on a slight nod. But you still had a question on your mind.

"Did I die?" You croaked out, eyeing them suspiciously.

Dean's gaze fell from yours to his own hands, and he was silent.

Sam broke the silence. "I'm gonna give you guys a minute…" He smiled at you reassuringly, and softly patted your leg before he turned and left the room.

"Dean? Did I die?" Your pulse quickened with each second of his silence.

His head had lowered even further, and he sniffed, rubbing his tired eyes.

'Is he crying?'

"No sweetheart, you didn't. You were close to it though." Slowly, he reached your hand and held it gently. His eyes finally met yours again, and they glistened with his fresh tears…all you wanted to do was wipe them away. "Damn it, I thought you were gone." He shook his head, and his voice trembled with the threat of exploding into a sob.

"They drugged me…?" You whispered, recalling the needle, and overhearing what Sam said earlier.

His tearful eyes met yours again, and he nodded yes, inhaling deeply. "Yeah, guess they found your kryptonite…"

You attempted to move your legs a bit, the urge to sit up was overwhelming you now. You wanted to hug him, you wanted to be well to make him feel better- but you knew you couldn't push it.

You pried further. "What else happened?"

Dean cleared his throat, shaking himself of the emotion that was in jeopardy of escaping him. "They umm…they took you, and the others came…I couldn't get to you. There were too many-"

Seeing Dean's lower lip tremble furiously caused tears of your own to break free; the sight of him broke something in you completely.

"-Dean, it's okay-" Your small voice was interrupted by him as he stood abruptly.

"-No it's not! You almost died back there (Y/n)! Because I wasn't payin' attention. I wasn't strong enough…" He paused, taking deep breaths through flared nostrils in a struggle to restrain himself. "I heard you up there, screaming. A-And I- "

"-Dean stop." Your words were low in tone and volume, but they were strong, and wrangled Dean out of his own destructive state.

He swallowed hard, nodding down at you and taking his seat again beside the bed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart...we're damn lucky you came out of there alive." His voice was breathy, and still shaking with emotion. "I prayed to Cas, and Crowley came with him…that's how we got out."

"I remember Crowley, not Cas…where are they?" You spoke slowly, concentrating on every word.

He shook his head. "No idea. Cas said something about tracking down the demons that got away to find out what was in that syringe... and Crowley's either back in hell, or went with him."

You couldn't nod yes anymore. "Oh…" Eyeing the whiskey bottle on the nightstand, you glared at Dean. "Binge drinking?" You jeered, raising your eyebrows tiredly.

Ashamed, Dean ran a hand through his messy hair. "I, uh…I didn't handle it very well."

You weren't sure what to say back to that statement. You weren't mad about it, and definitely didn't judge him; you'd have done the same.

Dean's hand enveloped yours again, and you squeezed it as tight as you could.

"I heard some of what you were saying...when you were talking to me earlier." You said, trying the best you could to keep your eyes open.

Dean's green eyes widened, and his face sobered in an instant. "O-Oh. What'd you hear?" He ran his tongue over his lips in thought, averting your gaze completely now.

You gave his hand another squeeze, urging him to look at you, and reluctantly he did. The color in his face flushed, and you could sense his heart racing. Even among the agonizing pain coursing through you, you were relishing in the fact you were making the infamous Dean Winchester nervous.

"Just something about you loving me…can't remember the rest." You smiled weakly at him, even though you were lying.

That night, you had coaxed Dean to sit on the bed with you. He had told you no at first, too afraid of hurting you. But he relaxed at some point, and even helped you sit up - which he initially said no to, as well. He ordered you on strict bed rest until you were healed; either by yourself, or Cas. It'd been a long time since you had a sick day.

Your lower half was still covered by the sheet, and Dean had apparently undressed you and put you in one of his t-shirts. You had been slipping in and out of consciousness for most the day, but never for long…and you were both thankful for that.

Each time you woke after drifting off, you felt better than you had before. You were regaining movement (not a lot), and you could shakily, but easily lift your arms now. And you were beginning to think you'd done a little more than just making yourself wake up earlier…maybe you kick-started your own healing process. You wanted to try again, but you somehow knew you didn't have the strength yet.

Dean sat stoically beside you, scared to get too close. "Can you drink again?" He was holding the third water bottle up to your mouth, causing you to give him a deathly glare.

"I've drank three bottles of water Dean." Your hoarse voice was annoyed, but you reeled it in enough to show you were thankful for him caring. "I already have to pee…" You looked at him with a pained expression.

'This poor guy is gonna have to carry my sorry ass straight to the toilet.'

Dean surprised you when he wasn't startled, or overly-sensitive about your predicament. There was no way in hell you could walk.

He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "I gotcha, princess."

Climbing off the bed, he came around and as slowly as he could, slipped his arms underneath you. You gasped when his hand grazed one of the lesions on your back, causing him to say 'I'm sorry' about a million times fast.

"Ya know, it's not everyday I get carried to the bathroom…I could get used to it…" You laughed, then coughed a bit as your raw throat betrayed your voice.

"As long as I'm the one doin' it, sweetheart."

"How many are there?" You asked. You were laying on your stomach as Dean lifted his t-shirt you were wearing up to your shoulders. It was 2:00 am the next morning, and you weren't awake long before he insisted on cleaning your wounds on your back and chest. You were thankful that he cared enough to do it, but you were less than excited about the impending pain.

Sam had finally gone to sleep, knowing you were awake now and in good hands. He had sat with you earlier while Dean had gone to get you a pain pill (which you happily accepted), and you felt terrible guilt at seeing his worn expression.

He had told you they hadn't slept since they'd been back from the hunt; although he admitted to falling asleep in the chair once or twice. Sam made a point to tell you how Dean hadn't left your side, not once…and you realized how lucky you were to have them.

"Only five on your back that needed stitches…" Dean replied gruffly, as his eyes settled on a fresh reminder of nearly losing you.

"Only five? Wow, I'm gonna look like a real masterpiece with all these scars." You said bitterly, but quietly into the pillow. The thought of how many marks those sons of bitches really left on you was infuriating. You weren't vain by any means, you were a hunter and used to getting scars; but this was different, it was personal.

Dean placed a careful, soft kiss on your shoulder, caressing your arm with his free hand.

"Don't say that. They'll go away, and even if they don't…" He kissed your shoulder again, making you wish you were well enough for 'extracurricular' activities. "…I think scars are freakin' sexy."

You laughed a bit at his attempt to comfort you, causing the pain in your ribs and side swelled again, making you wince.

Dean cleaned every gash on your back meticulously, breathing out small words of encouragement each time you flinched or tensed up at his touch.

"Almost done, hang in there." He murmured, pausing briefly before pressing the alcohol-soaked gauze on it's next victim.

Nodding in reply, you dared to take a deep breath…and it was easier that time.

He rubbed your side gently, letting you know he was through with your back. He pulled the shirt back down, and helped you turn over cautiously. You grimaced at the movement, but were happy to be able to see Dean's face again…you felt oddly attached to him, needy for comfort.

"Chest, sweetheart…three altogether there, but one on your shoulder…you okay?" He asked you, his eyes pleading you for a positive answer.

"I'm good. Let's just get it over with." You stated, watching as he stretched to the end of the bed for one of the small towels that were there. You could tell by the pile of dirty blood soaked towels in the corner, that most of the bunker's hand and bath towels were used in cleaning you up. You felt terrible for Dean having to do that.

Dean lifted the over-sized black t-shirt up, and slid the towel quickly over your breasts without looking. You tried not to laugh too hard at his attempt at chivalry, because it really was adorable. You slid your arms out, and settled your eyes on him again, pursing your lips together to contain your humor.

His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously. "What are you laughing at?"

And you couldn't help it…you laughed; it was terribly painful, and sent sharp pains down your windpipe; but it was worth it. "The towel thing…it was sweet."

He shook his head grinning, running his tongue over his teeth as he did. "Oh, I thought I'd protect your honor and all that." He winked at you, sending that familiar warmth throughout you. Then, his expression was saddened in an instant. "I actually had some practice earlier." Dean nodded toward the pile of ruined towels you'd just spotted.

You looked at him. "Oh…thank you Dean. That must've been hard."

His watery eyes locked on yours, and he pursed his lips in a forced smile. "Nah. Wasn't too bad."

You compelled yourself to smile back. "Liar." He obviously didn't want to get too touchy-feely about it…so you erred on the lighter side of caution.

"No, really- your clothes got the butt end of it, me and Sammy had to cut 'em off." He said jokingly. He gestured to the floor behind him, where the blood-soaked pieces of denim and cloth that once were your clothes laid.

Your eyes widened. The thought of Sam seeing you naked was terrifying…he was like your brother now. Dean saw your face, and grinned widely.

"D-Did Sam…see me?" You asked, horrified.

Dean held a hand up to you. "Nope. Like I said, all your honor was protected. Now that you're mine, it's my job to do that."

He let his words trail off suggestively when he realized the weight of them, and he returned his attention to the gash on your shoulder. Your heart jumped when you heard him say that though.

You both knew you belonged to one another at this point, and you even professed your love for each other to your creep of a Father. But something about it still hung in the air, especially since the two of you hadn't really spoken about the relationship aspect of it all…it genuinely was a first for you, and you had no idea how to handle that.

Were you supposed to set boundaries? Were you living in his room, or did you need to jump Cas's ass about getting you a new door? Did you need to put heart emoji's next his contact info in your phone…?

'Uggghhh.'

You were ripped away from your inner conflict by the cold gauze on your shoulder. It made you jerk, and Dean shot you a gentle but warning glance to remind you not to move. It stung like hell, but you weren't about to whine about it…you were somewhat used to this.

You could tell he was trying to read your face out of the corner of his eye, and you wondered if you should say something to end the awkward silence.

Instead, he cleared his throat nervously. "So, uh… ya know, now that I think about it…" Dean paused, twisting to meet your gaze and putting his hand on your forearm. "I don't think I ever really, uh - asked you."

You waited for him to keep going, but he appeared to assume you knew what he was referring to; and you did, but you couldn't be the one to say it.

"Ask me what?" 'I play dumb like a rockstar.' You grinned on the inside.

Dean licked his lips anxiously. "I haven't asked you to be, ya know, official yet. I mean, I'm no good at 'relationship' stuff, but I know I'm supposed to…" He hung his head a bit like he was arguing with himself internally.

You shifted uncomfortably, hating to see Dean nervous. "Dean, we don't have to talk about that ri-"

He interrupted you. "No, let me do this, I need to. I don't care if I sound like a damn ten year-old, either. I made a promise to myself I'd do things right with you…" He paused, sliding his hand down your forearm to your hand and holding it.

'Ohhh snap.'

"(Y/n), I love you. You drive me crazy, I can't get enough of you. You're the only one I want, and I wanna lock this down, I want you all to myself - mine, and mine only." He gazed at you, holding your hand with conviction. "I want you to sleep in my bed with me, wear my clothes, and be the only man you make love to, for as long as you can put up with me. Is that a deal?"

Your eyes were wide, pupils blown, and your mouth was stark dry. 'Deaaal!! Call in the cavalry. Hoooly shit!!'

You mustered up every bit of strength you had, and sat up rigidly, clutching the towel to your chest.

"That's a deal." You smirked. You felt Dean's arm wrapped around to the small of your bare back, drawing you into him. He cupped your face with his free hand, and his lips met yours urgently, until he was reminded of your injuries. He slowed his advance on you and kissed you slowly.

Your mouth parted slightly to invite him in, and his tongue dominated the embrace instantly. His hand on your face gradually moved behind your head, locking his hand in your hair and deepening his kiss.

'Jesus christ, I'm in love.' You thought.

As you sat side by side completely involved in each other, your nakedness dawned on you. The sheet still covered your lower half, but the towel you clutched to your chest was the only other article that hid you. You felt the heat pooling between your legs, along with the desire that flared for Dean.

You gripped his shoulder and whimpered into his mouth, while his arduous, but passionate assault on you continued. Your free hand instinctively fell to his lap where you felt his hard bulge, but he stopped you before you could do a thing.

Ever so carefully he guided you to lie back down again; then surprised you by bending over your mid-section, closing in on your ribs. His lips grazed over the black and blue colors, peppering kisses over them. He made his way up your side to the large turquoise bruise at the top of your rib cage, just beneath the hem of the towel that covered your breasts.

You wrapped your weak arms around his neck, and let your eyes fall shut with contentment.

Then, to your elation, you felt his hand creeping up your stomach, tugging the towel to the side to expose your breasts. Dean's soft kisses worked upwards reluctantly, like he was trying to stop himself. His lips made a trail from the bottom of your breast to your nipple, which was hardening by the second at his touch. You ran your fingers through his hair, and wished with all your might that you were better again.

'Fuuuuck…I need him right now…’ Your insides were soaring, but you were hitting the gas and the brake at the same time, and it was killing you. You both knew you were too weak for sex…but jesus christ you wanted each other.

"You are all mine, princess…" Dean breathed out against your breast, in a primitive low groan.

At last, his warm lips fell on your nipple, and you held your breath to keep from moaning. He drew it into his eager mouth, shifting his position over you at his arousal. His breathing quickened as he sucked with conviction, and your arms tugging around his neck only urged him further.

His free hand was caressing your uninjured side, moving from your hip up to your other breast, and back down again. His hand lingered there at your hip bone, trying to decide whether or not to go further past it. Slowly, he released you and pulled away to look at you. War was waging in his eyes, he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

You knew why he was stopping. "Dean…please!"

"(Y/n) there's a million things I could do to you right now…but we can't do this, not until you're better…" He smiled softly at you.

You winced in agony at your predicament. "Okay…just as long as we can make it up later."

He grinned at you. "Ohh, that's a promise sweetheart."

[mirrorofficialramblings]

Chapter 3

Arc 1 - Auspicious Calamity (part 3)

Word Count: Approx 3,600 words. 

PK - Summer, 114, 0000

   "Hey! Why are we going back to where I met you?" Slash called, chasing after the trotting she-wolf. Nibbling his tongue he looked up at the familiar scenery. The young trees full of late summer color, greens fading into the warm yellows and reds fall was known for. One day the forest would look beautiful, then bare as the trees slept. He began dragging his paws and his claws ticked and tapped against all of the pebbles they hit. 

   Willow glanced back and offered a smile, "Your first lesson," she said. Slash returned her a puzzled look and carried on after her, deciding not to think too much of her words. They were going to see the Sin Lion corpse, that's all he got from that. Maybe to study anatomy? To teach him their weak spot? His thoughts were broken by the mumbles of his mentor. "Honestly, I never thought that there'd be such an auspicious calamity." She chuckled coolly and turned to Slash. "Tell me, little one, how much do you already know about Sin Lions?" 

   "Umm. I know that Sin Lions are made from bad energy, like death and anger and jealousy." He paused and pulled back his lips. Then, words flowed. "Sin Lions are the physical form of all the world's sin. That's why they're named Sin Lions. Because they eat up our sins and use it to hurt us. They're kind of like the living form of the saying 'Your sins will catch up with you'. They're born in areas that suffer a lot of bad energy and are attracted to unhappy people." He spoke lightly, hoping not to disappoint her. Coming to a realization he stopped walking and slouched. "That's why I was attacked. It wasn't like I was mad at my brother, but..." 

   He heard the loud pattering of Willow's paws as she pranced in a circle. "Correct! Those are the basics, indeed," she chirped. "Wringer! When a Sin Lion dies, where do you think that negative energy goes? If it's enough to form a Sin Lion to begin with, does killing it really solve the problem?" 

   Slash was taken aback by the question. He stood there in silence trying to process it, then even longer he tried to think of an answer worth the effort. "They ... vanish?" he mumbled, uncertain. The question perplexed him no matter how he thought of it. Does the issue of sins really remain even after the death of the Sin Lion? 

   Willow shook her head. "As soon as a Sin Lion is born, their energy is too great. The land cannot banish the dark power regardless of its form so it must be stored away somehow. Be it a lion or another thing entirely," she explained. Slash gave a simple 'oh' and he watched as she spun and kept walking. "That's why we're headed back. That'll be your first lesson, always keep it in mind. Once slain, a Sin Lion leaves behind all of the sinful energy it collected through its life in a new harmless form. We need to collect it as soon as possible." 

   "Wow ... being a Sin Scavenger sounds like a lot of work," Slash said. Willow just grinned and led him back to the battleground, finally. 

   Upon reaching the now peaceful land, Slash's jaw dropped. The corpse was gone. Nothing left! Neither blood nor skin nor bone. Willow brushed her tail over his muzzle, urging him to close his mouth. Then, the two padded over to the location of the death. The pup kept looking back forth for the body but as expected, didn't see a scrap of the beast anywhere. It was difficult to believe it vanished so abruptly. 

   Knowing what he would ask, Willow spat out her answer. "They're not real things. Sin Lions will transform into a new smaller form once their core, or their brain as some would say, is broken. They don't even have organs aside from their lungs and brain."

   Slash sat down feeling a little less overwhelmed, but a little more confused. He hoped he would get used to this; having information dumped into his little head. He watched as she sniffed the ground for whatever object the Sin Lion dissolved into and perked up as she shot upright.

   "Here!" she batted a small black orb over to Slash, who flinched at the motion. His eyes fell to the small gemstone and he examined it closely, even seeing his warped reflection on the dark surface. 

   Willow plopped down near him and her eyes began to glow black, hiding the silver of her iris behind a faint sheet of darkness. The little gemstone drifted up from the ground and hovered back to Willow. Before he could speak, his silent query was answered. "It's called a 'Stained Pearl'. They're left behind following a Sin Lion's death," she said, using her telekinesis she rotated the small object and nodded in satisfaction. She then brought the stone into the chest pouch of her dark brown vest. The pouch closed with a click of the button. 

   Slash's eyes dulled as the gem was put away, his intrigue having been sullied by her sudden actions. Willow leaned and stretched her legs out, a giddy expression on her face. She bounced back to life and beamed at her pupil. "Welp, it's time to head home now! It's time for you to say goodbye to these woods. You won't be returning for a while," she said. She began to strut away, her tail swaying back and forth behind her. Slash's emerald eyes followed her briefly before he turned back and up at the trees. 

   His home was a young forest, every tree planted no more than ten years ago. They were so young and brave, just as he would be. He gave his territory a few last looks, feeling a bit regretful. These woods would become forlorn without him and his brother. At least that's what he liked to think. He flexed his toes and felt the soil sliding between and under his claws. Taking a last breath of this home, he sprang up and made a break for his mentor's side. 

   It was better not to look back. It'd make him guilty and he didn't want to feel that emotion. It was too heavy like a stone had been tied to his heart, and whoever tied the two together just sneered as the heart tried to stay afloat with this added weight. 

   Slash peeked at Willow from the corner of his eye and watched her fearless steps and her bold grin. Maybe, just maybe, his life was about to get interesting. 

    The mentor and the student continued to hike until the soft orange of sunset crept into the sky; the sun drifting off behind them and dragging their shadows. They had been walking nonstop for an hour or two, and he was holding back from complaining about sore paws. He huffed and swallowed his whine and kept trailing the adult's steps. His eyelids fluttered and he began to pass the time by taking in the scenery and tasting the heavy air. 

   "Almost to the portal," Willow called in a somewhat sing-song voice. She had overtaken her pupil in their hike as she had longer legs and more energy than the small pup. 

   "Portal?" 

   "Yes, portal. Our territory is located across the ocean on West and it'd take months to return by foot, so we use portals instead. We have tons of them hidden all over the planet, at least two in every Zone. Makes travel a breeze," she explained. "There aren't many Sin Scavenger packs as ardent as us, so we frequent numerous locations all over." Slash hastily nodded. Yeah, he got that. He thinks. 

   He sprinted to close the distance and returned to pace by her side. He then froze. Willow knew exactly why and a smirk formed upon her lips. 

   A loud groan escaped as he saw the rather large hill they had to trudge up.  "Awww!" He bucked at the dirt and sent pebbles and dust flying about in a small fit. He ended his tantrum by throwing himself on the ground and covering himself in the newly wrought dirt. With a loud grumble, he flipped onto his stomach and laid there with a rooted clump on his head. 

   Willow's shit-eating grin didn't fade one bit. 

   She urged him to his feet and they began their ascent. 

   Upon aching legs and drooping eyes, Slash climbed the hillside alongside Willow. She comforted him by telling him he'd get used to it but he doubted he even wanted to. His heavy head lifted to take a gander at the lone tree at the summit. An ancient tree with branches stretched out like a hawk's wings. Vines and ivy twisted and hung. Birds of all species perched upon and nestled in the leaves. It seemed dark and looming against the fiery background of the evening sky. 

   Looking down to try and dominate his clumsiness, Slash continued to walk as Willow led the way up. They climbed to the base of the majestic tree, it being even more gargantuan than Slash originally thought. They approached an opening in the roots and to a ditch dug beneath the tree forming a large burrow. They crept inside. 

   Entering the burrow of tangled roots, Willow's tail signaled for Slash to stop. He stood a bit away from her and tilted his head. She lowered her head and began chanting an incantation in a language Slash didn't know. Once she fell silent, her eyes lifted and she stepped back, a pink slit forming just a step ahead. Slowly, a vibrant pink cyclone of a portal established itself before the duo. The pup stared in wonder at the swirling mass of light with his mind failing to bring any words to describe it. Without a single word, Willow waved for Slash to follow and leapt into the portal, Slash gasping and launching after her. 

   Once both were through, the portal dissolved without a trace as if it had never existed. 

   Two paws, then four. He landed firmly inside the portal and cracked open an eye, peeking inside. Both eyes flew wide as they could, his head whipping around in a sudden motion. His whole body stiffened and his heart pulsed in his chest. A world of chromatic light drowned his eyes pressuring him to squeeze them shut just to avoid overstimulation. His mind became overwhelmed by the abrupt change in scenery, he didn't think that he would be in a gateway, somewhere. Instead, he was expecting to pop out at their destination. The swiftly flowing colors raced past him as he pushed himself forward, following Willow's steps and her voice tentatively. 

   He knit his brows and grit his teeth, forcing his eyes to stay open despite drowning in a river of radiance. Willow called to him over her shoulder, "We're almost there, just hang on." With that, he strode after her with some more desperation, huddling up to her shoulder so he wouldn't get separated. 

   "Is ... it possible to get lost in here? Is it a one-way trip or can you end up anywhere?" he asked, anxiety pouring from his trembling voice. Large eyes darted about, searching for any fractures or threats. The whole portal was too messy for him to even begin to comprehend. 

   "Anywhere. This is an entire dimension of interconnecting pathways, and so long as you've got a vague idea of where you want to go you won't get lost. To make things easier we chant the name of the Zone we want to visit so the path doesn't diverge upon loss of concentration," she said. Willow glanced at the fretful pup and his quivering body and it made her chest curl. "We'll be fine. This place can't hurt us."

   Despite her promise, he couldn't shake his apprehension. Trying to calm him, she presented a carefree smile, a tail wag, and lightened her steps. With a prance, she continued before her ears pricked up and her attention was reestablished. Slash watched her two abrupt changes in attitude and followed her line of sight to a floating pink scratch in the portal just ahead of them. 

   "What's that?" It looked like the entrance to the portal. Oh, well on that thought his question was pretty useless. 

   "Our destination!" she chirped. She raced forward, the pink tear expanded and formed a cyclone to let her advance. Willow hopped through the exit; Slash came close behind. 

   When he opened his eyes this time, he was met with a gorgeous meadow, a blue afternoon sky, and a sudden hot spell dancing on his back. The portal snapped shut behind him but he hardly noticed the faded sensation. Slash scrunched his nose up at the brisk change in temperature, unable to adjust to the newfound heat of the meadow. The dirt beneath his paws held no moisture and the grass tangled around his toes offered no escape. Scowling, he stared up at the clear blue sky and gave Willow a questioning look. 

   To him was a knowing one. "Welcome to West! This is Puella, one of the mountainous regions in the western continent. Don't worry I'll be your guide." Willow once again waved for him to follow her. "Come, we'll talk in a better place. I bet this transition is a bit intense." 

   The two walked westward to a larger tree with nice shading and sat beneath, Slash welcoming the coolness of the darkened land. He let his body relax as he dropped his weight against the trunk. "Hah ... so why is it still day here?" he asked, voice breathy. 

   "Because it's West. In Central it's sunset, while in East it's night. The sun sets to the west meaning that it'll be daytime here while it's sunset back where you lived. Though it's well past noon so we'll be approaching sunset pretty soon. Couple hours give or take." Willow was pretty lazy with her answer, going on a bit of a tangent. But it was easy to understand so Slash didn't mind the information. It was less to take in than the stuff about the portal or the Sin Lion. He'd had to learn everything eventually anyway. Better to start early.  He gave a hum and closed his eyes trying to rest from his exhausting journey. For a small child, it was arduous to walk for several hours. His paws hurt and his energy was nonexistent. 

    Willow seemed to pick up on this and offered to let him rest for a short while, giving him little bits of casual information while he regained his strength. "You know this vest of mine? It's fireproof. All Sin Scavengers have a special vest or pack they carry with them to hold Stained Pearls in. You'll get one once you graduate upon your rite of passage. That'll be on your sixth birthday. You're only about three seasons old right now so it's far away so don't worry about it now. Oh, and I have two siblings in the pack. An older sister and an older brother. You'll meet both pretty soon." 

   "They're important?" he asked lazily. 

   "Very," she beamed. Glancing back at the sky, she decided he had enough rest and nuzzled him to sit back up. "Something more important now. Be attentive." Slash's mind tensed at the notion and he tugged the corners of his lips, making his mouth a straight line. "This pack is mostly an uncover group, while we can share our name, we silence ourselves before dubious folks. Also, there's a trial you must undergo to become an official Sin Scavenger trainee. You better be ready for it." 

   This woman sure did talk a lot. "Yes, Willow..." 

   The two got up and sauntered through the sunny meadow to the forest ahead. Or, jungle, actually. Slash's eyes kept going up and up as they neared the trees. They rose well beyond one hundred feet into the sky, touching the God's Realm with their outstretched branches. 

   She kept talking as they walked. "See this meadow we're in? These are known as the Meadowlands. Simple name, simple place. The woodland ahead of us is called the Pinwood Garden. It's the protective shield of the Womb." 

   "The Womb?" Slash echoed. Willow nodded. He'd see. 

   "The Meadowland is three miles wide from the edge of Pinwood Garden to the edge of the mountain range." She nodded to the mountains in the distance. "Those mountains extend for twenty miles outwards and form a protective ring around the meadow and in extension the Pinwood Garden, which in turn protects the Womb. The Womb itself is pretty hazardous so we're in a pretty safe location I'd say. Intruders and invasions are a dream." 

   "Or a nightmare if the enemy is that powerful," Slash said. Willow hummed in agreement but she didn't seem convinced that was possible. Apparently, they had numerous countermeasures planned in case someone made it through all of their defenses. At least that's what he'd assume. She was cocky enough that it wasn't hard to guess. 

   The two walked through the trees into the jungle, a tall canopy casting shadows, barely allowing light to reach the ground below. The soil was moist, and underbrush was thick to a point he could hardly see where he was stepping. Every time he lowered his paw it was swallowed by ferns or something. He honestly didn't know what half these plants were so, for now, they were all ferns. 

   The dense jungle-like terrain was dark, all light being forbidden by the thick foliage far above. Any sunlight that cascaded down was nothing but a dreamy beam that illuminated clumps of desperate plants thirsty for the sustenance. The trees that extended well into the sky made the pup feel so insignificant, and almost suffocating with their presence alone. Vines hung from the branches and birds of all kinds sang their echoing songs for the animals below. 

   Hopping up and down were squirrels, monkeys, and more. His face softened at the sight of such a lively world. 

   From the woods to the portal to the meadow to the jungle, it felt as though Slash had walked through four different worlds all within three hours. He knew he had never left the planet but sweet Mia above sure did it. Willow stopped him from walking forward any longer and sneered. Slash tilted his head and stepped up as she moved out of the way. He'd been too distracted by the trees to notice where they had gone. 

   He moved to the edge of a sloping cliff, and his soul went ablaze. Face glowing and eyes sparkling. He staggered at the sight of a massive sinkhole penetrating deep into the ground. As far down as he could see there were trees of all kinds circling that steep drop into the earth. Fog filled the steep drop and blocked his view from anything further; the contents, or even how deep it went was a mystery. From the sky, one wouldn't even be able to tell the thing was there. 

   He had to blink himself out of the momentary trance. Only two words could slip through his wonder. "Holy hell..." 

   Slash peered down the slope and into the dense trees below, wondering how much it might hurt to fall. Unwilling to slip, he clutched the ground with all his remaining strength. Hearing a strange honk, he lifted his gaze to meet a flock of birds gliding gracefully through the fog below, his tension easing. They resembled swans, they were so white and beautiful. Their calls echoed faintly throughout the impression. Crouching at the edge, he was content just to watch the swans gracing the swirling mist below. 

   Willow blinked and observed his unveiled smile. "This is the Womb," she said, staring down into the sinkhole. "Within that sinkhole is where the Sapphire pack resides. This place will be your new home." 

   "This?!" He sprung to his paws and was pitiful at hiding his horror. "We have to go down there?" 

   Willow merely glanced at him. She then leaped into the sinkhole without any indication of hesitation. Slash stared in horror as the she-wolf disappeared into the fog. He heard her call up to him, but the words didn't ease him one bit. "I expect you at the bottom! Consider this your first trial. If you can't even do that then what's the point of training you? If you can't climb down then you don't even deserve to be a part of this pack." 

   And with that, there was silence. 

   His jaw dropped and he went with a thud to the ground. Does this ever end? First, he has to walk two hours to the portal, then half a mile through the Meadowlands, then through Pinwood Garden, and now he has to descend into a sinkhole a mile wide?! She'll kill him from exhaustion long before he even gets a chance to train! 

   "..."

   What was he whining about? She said to consider it a test, a trial. And a trial is a trial. One either passes or fails. How could he ever look Fang in the eye if he couldn't even do this much? He took a deep breath, stood up, and shook all negative thoughts out of his head. 

   "Okay!" 

   He pushed on and slipped down the slope into the trees below, and skittered and zigzagged through to the cavity in the center. He wouldn't let himself be useless. He'll prove he's worthy of becoming her student. 

                                            ~~__________~~

   From within the fog, the obscured she-wolf glared with keen eyes at the persistent child. She watched him like a hawk keened its prey. Willow let her teeth show in a toothy sneer and she vanished into a hole. ‘Just so you know, wings are useless here. Your judgment is your best friend. Always keep that in mind, Slash.’ 

[mysisterclaire]

Dreams

I very much doubt my experience of dreaming is any different to anyone else's. Sometimes some gibberish my mind has turned into something else. My house but not my house, my friend but not my friend but it totally made sense at the time. And then I've also had experience with night terrors for as long as I can remember, where I have woken thrashing & shouting. Where I have dreamt that I have woken up & it looks real & then proceeded to dream something catastrophic beyond my control.

I've also had dreams which have helped me come to terms with things...

My Nan passed away from complications to cancer in January 2006 after a 4 month battle. Watching her deteriorate was heart breaking. I was very much in denial.

When she did pass away the only memories I had were those of her being ill. Despite that being such a short period of my 24 years with her, I struggled to remember the happy times. I was stuck.  Until, one night, I dreamt I was waiting at a bus stop in Mill Hill, outside the Cancer Research charity shop. I saw in the window, a coffin, propped up as if on show. Inside, my Nan, as I saw her in the chapel of rest. My heart suddenly felt really heavy,a big knot formed in my throat, tears stung my eyes. I looked down to the pavement. A lady ushered to me with enthusiasm. 'Come on' she said eagerly, & guided me by my shoulders into the shop.

We put my nan’s coffin onto one of those upright wheelie things & ran with it up the road. I know this is super strange imagery - the lady was taking charge & I didn't want my nan on view in that shop window for all to see, so I went with it. We ran all the way to the top of the Broadway towards the A41. Only the road wasn't there. Instead, there was a meadow with a stream & a picturesque bridge. We put the coffin into the water & the lady took my hand as we watched it drift calmly along the water & under the bridge out of sight. It felt nice to set her free.

I woke up, felt instantly at ease & then scrambled to find some old photos. The lady in my dream was a young woman, and in fact was my Nan before I was born. It really did feel like she had come to help me process my memories, to let go of the bad ones & make way for the good ones, of how I wanted to remember her.

I have had equally profound dreams about Claire.

In the months after Claire’s passing I dreamt I was in my childhood bedroom that I shared with Claire. My bed by the window, hers by the door, in the alcoves, either side of the would be fireplace. In my dream I could feel Claire's spirit in the room & knew I had to leave my physical body in order to speak to her. So I lay on my bed & I guess left my body through some kind of astral projection. I was then stood with Claire whilst our bodies (quite separate from us) lay on our beds. It was quite an eerie sight...

I suddenly realized the enormity of having this opportunity of being able to talk to her, quickly trying to think of what family members would have wanted to have asked her if they had the opportunity. My brain was in so much of a panic nothing was coming to mind.

She went over & looked at her body. She looked forlorn, with tears in her eyes. A huge sense of confusion. Not knowing how it had come to this. I ask her did she know what she was doing & with her chin trembling she shook her head, looking back down at herself. I touch her arm in a bid to console her. In a change of tact, I asked her whether she was at her funeral & saw who was there. Again she shook her head. And in a matter of fact tone I told her I wasn't going to tell her how many people turned up & proceeded to fold my arms, expecting, wanting to tease her playfully, only in a way a sibling could!! (The church was packed out). It didn't work, it didn’t induce a want to know or an opportunity for jest, the mood was decidedly & understandably sombre. I decided I had better be a bit more grown up, & stop squandering this opportunity with my immaturity. I asked her whether or not she is with us now. She said she flits. She has no control over time or place, she can be here or there & she has spent time with all of us. I can't quite remember other details but the tone of this whole meeting was tender & gentle.

All of a sudden she ran towards my body & tried to climb in. Shit! I thought, she's going to take my body & I’ll be the one stuck here! I pulled her off & woke up in a sweat.

Another dream I had was a while later. I was at a party & my mum comes rushing towards me, she says 'Claire's here & she has a message for me. I'm worried I won't remember when I wake up. Can you come & listen so you can tell me?' Then she leads me through the party. We squeeze through the chattering crowd like they are the fur coats in The Lion The Witch & The Wardobe, into silence at the bottom of Claire's garden on her pub bench. It's that magic twilight time when things are simultaneously hazy & super real. The sun is going down, golden light twinkling through the trees, the sky is a peachy pink. Her garden lantern fairy lights glow in all their bright colours, it really is so beautiful. Claire is sat on the table, her feet, with her tanned cowboy boots, are on the seat, she is smoking... She has long blonde wavy hair, a knee length ditsy dress, she looks rested, at peace. Sure of herself. Absolutely beautiful. She has gold glitter smeared all over her face like she did at my hen party. It's probably down her pants now too, as it had got EVERYWHERE that night & didn't shift for days. I do smile, wondering if there is a place wherever she is where maybe she gets to choose a version of herself that she would then look like forever (like in that episode of Galaxy High) & I love what she has chosen. (This, I decide, when I wake, is what my nan has done too). Or whether this is my image of her, a magical formula made of all my memories. (That’s me doing Claire’s hair below)

I am here only for the message which Is for mum, so I refrain from my daydream gazing, from speaking or asking questions, I solely concentrate on listening & remembering. I sit up straight. I’ve got this.

We are all able to communicate frankly without emotion, which is very odd. But very pragmatic. I like it. We understand each other totally, it’s like we can see into each other's souls, there will be no misinterpretations here. She assures mum that she is doing better now. She is able to work on being happy. We have no need to worry. She loves us all, & no matter what we did, it wouldn't have changed how she felt about herself & wouldn't have stopped her. She tried for as long as she could have. That we need to stop giving ourselves such a hard time. That life as we know it is a blip & where she was now was eternity & we will see that soon enough. We will all be reunited soon enough.

When awake, I obviously pass on the message as best I could to my mum. Frankly, without the emotion. Except it's quite hard in this consciousness to do that & I’m stumbling over words, not able to get the message quite right. I think it takes three seperate attempts.

In the midst of grief I convince myself that I have a telephone line to Claire. Fuck you death! Our love & connection goes beyond the physical human boundaries. I feel quite smug & superior about this in my head. I can call on Claire when I sleep & travel to other dimensions & be close to her. I feel so safe. Nothing will part us. Nothing. Without a doubt, being in this bubble of make-believe makes grieving easier.

My mum tells her friend about my dreams & her friend says that it reminds her of a book... When repeating it back to me I instantly know the book she is talking about & am able to finish the sentence with the name of it - Audrey Niffenegger Her Fearful Symmetry. I've read it. Slowly my shoulders melt into a hunch. Oh...

Heart broken that it probably isn't Claire after all, it's my subconscious flitting around my memory store, cherry picking facets of fiction & fairytale & weaving it into a buffer to protect me from my own reality. Ah yes, I've also read The Fury & some other weird 1970s witch book on Astral Projection that I found on a train. My teenage obsession with the supernatural is peppering my reality with magic. Plus I'm Catholic & so my interpretations are firm on the ideology of Heaven.

I reason with myself, eventually, that actually that version of things is nice too. That on a subconscious level, my brain is looking after me. I'm comforting myself. Perhaps with utter delusions, but I will take anything I can get to get through this mess & be thankful for it. That my brain was also trying to make things easier for my family too. Whilst my words couldn’t console them, a message from Claire could.

I do, sometimes though, allow myself to believe that these dreams are visits from Claire & that's ok too. In the end it doesn't really matter what version of things I choose to believe in.

More recently, I've had cruel dreams where Claire comes back & tells me she has been hiding behind my chest of drawers for 2 years. Like I’m that messy & disorganised I just didnt notice her there. The first time I had this dream I quizzed her on who it was we buried. Who was in the chapel of rest? And get worried about some full scale police inquiry, my anxiety ends up taking up most of my time with her. In later versions of this dream I decide not to ask questions & ruin it, just accept the bullshit reasoning & have a few moments of fun, I know it’s not real though. It totally fucks me up when I wake, but simultaneously I get to remember how her hands feel, what she smells like & the close up imperfections on her skin. The melodic way in which she spoke. And again she feels so close & that no time has passed.

Note: I have omitted a large part of the dream message for my mum, there were many more specific details. And this is to be socially responsible. I can relay it to others who have gone through this - just ask. Whilst I can take this horrific incident & apply a magical view on it, I know it's simply not the truth. Not in this life anyway. It doesn't magic away the cold stark reality of suicide, the type of grieving it leaves & the fact I no longer have my sister. So if anyone is feeling suicidal I'm certainly not going to make it sound like a good shiny thing to do. What I have to tell myself after this life altering trauma is nothing more than a silly fairy story to get me out of bed in the mornings. To apply a bit of hope in the form of magical thinking when I cannot see the point in this shitty existence (and that's me at my worst).