#Walter is SO handsome

[knockknockitsnickels]

My Personal Best & Worst Skins for Each Don't Starve Character bc I love to yap

Based purely on personal opinion, though if anyone wants to share their own thoughts pls feel free. I'm going to be basing these mostly off of the in-game sprites, which tend to have more vibrant colors than the portraits. I'm sorry for not including said sprites, but I was unable to find good pictures of them all. Also this won't be including the Culinarian/Challenger skins, since those are pretty simple and same-y.

Wilson: Imo the quality of Wilson's skins vary from pretty good to just kind of mid. Nothing stands out as a skin I really want, but there's nothing awful either. My personal favorites are a toss-up between the Verdant, Victorian, and Mad Scientist, but for now I'm going with Verdant because I like the vibe. Worst is between Survivor and Merrymaker - Survivor probably deserves the spot for being bland, but I decided on Merrymaker just because I hate the berries in his hair. I think the holly leaf motif is a cute idea, but the berry placement feels kind of random.

Willow: Willow's in a similar situation to Wilson where there are no skins I really love or hate. Best is probably forlorn doll - all of the details on her head make her in-game sprite a little busy, but the yellow eyes and red dress are cute. Honorable mention to Snowfallen and Victorian for also being cute though. Worst goes to Woeful because a) I have no idea what concept it's going for (Lizzie Borden???) and b) I hate whatever's going on with her hair.

Wolfgang: I recognize that the reference to Hulk Hogan has perhaps aged poorly but I can't not love the Giant. Look at his sick sunglasses and try to tell me this skin is bad. Worst is Incredible Strongman (mostly because of how his hair is drawn. It looks like he's wearing swiss rolls on his head).

Wendy: Best is the Moonbound - I like the hair color change (though the washed out portrait colors don't really do it justice), and the markings under her eyes which resemble tears (like runny mascara, if that makes sense) are a fun detail. Wendy doesn't really have any skins I hate, but my least favorite is Survivor - it's just a little bland, and I don't care much for the "bone" motif (her flower & the ones around her neck).

WX-78: WX is the first character discussed in this post where I think that almost all of their skins are fantastic. It's difficult to choose a favorite - I think using a nutcracker motif for the Christmas-themed Merrymaker set was an inspired choice, Snowfallen gives them this cool, ice-themed supervillain look (literally, I think it was inspired by the character Mr. Freeze from Batman), and while I get why people don't really like the color scheme, I can't not love the super sentai theme of the Midori Roboto (it also just appeals to me as a fan of cheesy 80s rock). With all of that said - I'm sorry, I adore their Guest of Honor outfit, it's so dumb. I think objectively Experiment is probably their actual best skin but I have to be true to myself. Worst goes to Gladiator - it doesn't look so bad in the portrait, but in-game all of the different colors - red, gray, & multiple shades of yellow - around the face area make this skin really busy. Concept's cool, but the execution's flawed.

Wickerbottom: My girl. She's got a few nice skins - Snowfallen gets points for making her look like an ice queen, & I think I like her Moonbound skin more than most other people (I just think the 3rd eye is a cool idea for her). That said, I think the Bewitched is the best one - it looks lovely, the witch theme is fun, & it's the only one which significantly changes up her silhouette. Worst is Volt Goat (a lot of the early Halloween skins were kinda bland, I'm surprised this is the first one I've mentioned).

Woodie: I was surprised by how many good skins Woodie has, since I remembered them being a bit underwhelming. I like his Roseate, Merrymaker, and Snowfallen skins quite a bit, and the last shred of Canadian patriotism in me really enjoys the Hockey skin, but his stupid hippy Halloween costume is too conceptually funny to not include. Sorry I'm really predictable at this point. Worst goes to Masquerader - it's way too busy, and on his in-game sprite you can barely see his mouth.

Wes: Triumphant is hands-down his best skin but shoutout to Lover for that smug lil pose he does in the portrait. I honestly don't think Wes has any bad skins - even the ones I personally think are ugly make really fun use of the clown scheme - so the crown goes to Mandrake for being boring.

Maxwell: Poor Maxwell, man. He's stuck with some of the worst skins in the game. Klei, please PLEASE stop trying to give this man facial hair it does NOT look good. Anyway his best is Gladiator for looking cool (though the portrait colors are REALLY washed out) and making way better use of the "dark magician" theme then some of his other skins dark wizard. Snowfallen is also pretty cool however it DOES lose points for the facial hair. Anyway everyone hates Dark Wizard and while it DOES look goofy as hell Moonbound is worse. I don't know why ppl don't mention it, Moonbound is way worse. #StopTryingToGiveMaxwellABeard #ShaveThatMan

Wigfrid: Like WX, I think almost all of Wigfrid's skins are really good and im gay. Moonbound wins the prize bc she looks like a magical girl and I love that. If I had to pick a worst one I guess I'd choose Guest of Honor. I still like it, the outfit's just a little plain.

Webber: Webber my beloved. I love the Rebel on concept alone & the Victorian for making him a lil sailor boy, but Snowfallen has my heart. I love the way he's colored to look like a snowman (the legs on his head being the "twigs") and that the fluff on his body resembles a sweater. Survivor is probably the worst, it's almost identical to the original aside from some messy hair and spiderwebs. However even the worst Webber skin still belongs to Webber, and is therefore adorable.

Warly: Warly my also beloved, who's also got a lot of great skins. I really like the Candyman, but Roseate is probably the best one - I like the little rose shape in his hair. Worst is ABSOLUTELY Carrat, but shout out to Head Chef (the chef hat in the portrait isn't actually part of his sprite) and the Triumphant for being disappointing (come on, "evil chef" is such a fun idea. Why didn't you make him Bobby Flay).

Wormwood: I probably should've used the in-game sprites for this post, since the coolest part of his skins (the blooming) isn't shown on the portrait. Case in point, my favorite Wormwood skin, Triumphant, looks really bland in the portrait, but when it blooms it opens up into this really cool & striking red eye. I tried to include a picture but it was really big & this post is long enough as it is so you're gonna have to trust me, it's cool. I again don't think Wormwood has any bad skins - I guess I'll go with Roseate since the leaves on his head look Uncomfortably like hair, but it's still good.

Winona: I am EXTREMELY gay All of Winona's skins are really hot fantastic and no I am NOT biased. I want to gush about all of them (SNOWFALLEN! VICTORIAN! THE FIXER! THE ONLY GOOD SURVIVOR SKIN!) but the best is the Swashbuckler. She's so good I'm going insane. I guess her worst is Moonbound? I like some of the ideas but I think it just looks kind of messy, esp whatever's going on with her hair & shoulders.

Walter: WALTER MY BELOVED! I mentioned earlier that Wigfrid's Moonbound skin makes her look like a magical girl, but Walter's actually IS a magical girl skin - his portrait even has him striking the Sailor Moon pose! I think some of his other skins are probably objectively better, but this one's still my favorite. Honorable mention to Triumphant just bc I like the idea (turning a boyscout into a dennis-the-menace style troublemaker). I'm going to give worst to Bee Costume just bc the eyeballs on his head freak me out (but I do think the idea of him dressing up as a bee for Halloween bc he's allergic is fun). Side note, a lot of Walter's skins have hats in the portrait but not in-game? I dunno what's up with that, I guess it's so they don't interfere with equipment?

Wortox: Unfortunately none of Wortox's skins really stick out to me in a positive or negative way. Favorite is probably a tossup between Survivor & Masquerade - went with the former based purely on vibes. I also kinda like the sea-serpent theme of Swashbuckler & gargoyle theme of Victorian. Worst is going to Draconic for being kinda bland & similar to the original. I guess you could make a similar complaint about Uncorrupted, but it's that way for LORE reasons so I wouldn't want them to change it.

Wurt: I really like aquatic monster designs, so i enjoy a lot of Wurt's skins, but the best is Victorian bc a) it's cute and b) deep lore. S/out to Merrymaker's cute sugar-plum fairy motif tho. I will give the worst to Verdant because I don't really like the colors (purple, green, yellow, cream, & brown are a lil clashy).

Wanda: Finally, Wanda. I really like the star motif in her Masquerader fit, and while Tinkersmith is super cute, it looks a little too similar to her original outfit for me (I'm also not a fan of Triumphant's sunglasses, but I like that her hair looks like a shadow hand).

Anyway the moral of the story is don't give Maxwell a beard. Thanks.

[campbyler]

Idk if Walter would like suits, but I drew him in one anyway

WHAT A DAPPER GENTLEMAN

[tommyflanaganfan-blog]

[lynxbatics]

HE'S TOO CUTE OH MY GOSH

(from Sensational She-Hulk #1 (2023))

[fuckyeahelijahwoodfan]

A gorgeous behind the scenes photo of Elijah from episode 7 .

So handsome 😍

[imaginepostingonmain]

petition to make finance jimmy able to see every dead mike walters. as a treat

"I already got tae put up enough wi' all the versions him where he's alive an' kickin, ye ken? Every dead Mike Walters? Ah've seen more Mike Walters' die than ye've had episodes of his podcast, an lemme tell you, none of 'em were pretty."

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?

(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)

ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k

One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless. 

“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back. 

Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.” 

You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?” 

“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”

“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly. 

When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected. 

Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours. 

“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction. 

“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.” 

“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”

“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.” 

“I can’t have narcotics.” 

You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?” 

“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.” 

You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.” 

“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.” 

His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.

“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.” 

He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury. 

“What do you do for work?” you ask him. 

“I work for the FBI.” 

“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.” 

“It’s not the cut that hurts.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.” 

He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it. 

“Are you an agent?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?” 

“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.” 

“So you’re the big gun.” 

“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.” 

“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.” 

He sighs. “I do, too.” 

“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.” 

“It’s okay.” 

You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside. 

“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.” 

You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though. 

Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.” 

You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails. 

“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?” 

“It’s okay.” 

“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.” 

“You’re a great nurse.” 

“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?” 

“Getting worse.” 

“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?” 

“Psychosomatic, apparently.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?” 

“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly. 

“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”

“Stressful.” 

“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?” 

“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.” 

“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand. 

“I’m fine.” 

He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?” 

“Uh–”

“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.” 

He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.” 

He nods but doesn’t move. 

As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think. 

“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say. 

“Fine.” 

“You’re pink.” 

“What?” 

“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?” 

“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply. 

“You can ask for her number.” 

“No I can’t, she’s working.” 

“But you want to,” his friend surmises. 

You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

twenty four, birthday boy | s.r. x fem!reader

“you look very handsome, birthday boy.”

spencer leaned his head back to see you standing beside his desk with your hands behind your back. dressed in a lavender short-sleeved button up paired with a simple black maxi skirt and your simple flats, a subtle smile pairing as your accessory, you looked radiant this morning.

“thank- thank you.” unconscious hand reaching up to mess with the giant birthday cake hat derek forced onto his head. it felt kinda nice to be treated like a kid on his birthday for once.

your eyes went up at the action then back to his face, “got you a present.” taking a small sage green wrapped box with a baby blue ribbon attached from behind your back, giving a tiny shake to it. fingers curled gently to hold the mystery gift outstretched.

“i tried to remember if you mentioned owning it or wanting to. i kept a receipt in cause though.” smile waving just a bit, it made his heart stutter a beat.

“i’d keep it anyway, it was from you.” his own smile twitching from nerves. his statement caused your smile to widen, cheeks scrunching up your eyes. “open it, spence.” you were the only one who calls him that.

finally grabbing the box, his slim fingers brushed over your painted nails before you pulled your arms away, tucking them back behind your back. spencer took his time peeling away the plastic wrapping and shiny bow, wanting to preserve the gift in its entirety. next came a cardboard box and once that was gone it revealed a cartoon figure.

“oh no way!” it was a bobble head figure of the fourth doctor. it was still inside the packaging and spencer was debating if he should keep it inside or take it out and proudly display it. then he noticed the small folded paper taped at the top.

“it’s just a small note slash birthday card.” speaking up after spencer went silent too long. he looked back towards you, “wanted it to be personal.” shrugging off the kind words and action.

slowly peeling the tape from the packaging, spencer set the gift aside so his full attention would be on the words you wrote from your heart. licking his lips then flipping open the small paper he was met with your cursive-print handwriting, he’s been able to understand your scribbled words after the first case.

happy birthday dr. spencer walter reid. yes i know your middle name and yes i got it off garcia, i wont tell though. it’s been a wonderful few months since you’ve joined the department and i couldn’t ask for a better new friend. (don’t tell pen, but you might be my number one now) to many more years together as a family. -love y/n l/n <3

-

a/n: @bringitonhomejohnb a wish has been granted

[bethanydelleman]

So of course whenever I write "Mr. Bennet is a terrible father" people come back at me with, "I can tell you about terrible fathers! How dare you use that word!" but I'm probably going to keep using it and here is why:

Her father was a clergyman, without being neglected, or poor, and a very respectable man, though his name was Richard—and he had never been handsome. He had a considerable independence besides two good livings—and he was not in the least addicted to locking up his daughters. - Northanger Abbey, Ch 1

Jane Austen knew that very extremely horrible parents existed, but that was not what she was interested in as a writer. To me, she seems to want to expose how parents can fail their children without anything that would be considered explicit physical abuse. Even General Tilney and Mrs. Norris only talk and scream, we have no evidence at all that they would hit.

And yet, the characters suffer a lot because of their parents. Emma's father has imprisoned her, but by loving her too much. Mr. Bennet doesn't harm his daughters in the present, but he's setting them up for a very precarious future*. Sir Walter would never let Anne go unfed or unclothed, but he still neglects her. Mrs. Dashwood is so emotionally fragile that Elinor feels that she cannot confide in her when she is suffering herself. Sir Thomas was so strict that his children hated their home.

Jane Austen didn't write Gothic horror or the worst side of humanity. She wrote very relatable and realistically flawed parents who still put their children through a lot of suffering.

*Going to add, letting Lydia go to Brighton explicitly to expose herself, which may reflect poorly on the other sisters in a world where reputation is everything, is another failure to consider his children's future. Even if you disregard the danger to Lydia herself, he was endangering all his children. He is very much a person who trades the future for a peaceful present.

[blunt-hound]

AWOOGA LOOK AT HOW HANDSOME HE IS

face studiez..... :3

[perlelune]

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | vi.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The clinging of metal resonates in your ears as Coriolanus fumbles with your keys. You lean against him, half-asleep and barely able to hold yourself upright. 

Coriolanus opens the door, his arm still around your waist. 

You get a blurry glimpse of Walter’s bright eyes in the darkness. He meows when he sees you. You hear the faint pitter-patter of his paws, the sound of him circling you the way he always does when you come home. 

You stagger forward, arms open to pick him up. Your feet tangle in your hastiness. Coriolanus catches you before you can trip and fall flat onto your face. 

“I’ve got you,” he mumbles. You clutch the lapels of his crisp white shirt.  The fabric wrinkles in your tight grip. You stare at his buttons, one undone revealing a hint of his bare chest and defined collarbone. Faintly, you ponder the fact that he’s always dressed so impeccably, not a hair out of place, not in a crinkle in his clothes. You hate that you’re messing up his nice outfit. Fingers sneak below your chin, angling your face skywards. The angular lines of Coriolanus’ handsome face twist and triple in your vision, his intense blue eyes shimmering like sapphires. He heaves out a deep sigh before lifting you from the floor. “I don’t think you can be trusted to walk on your own, angel.” He casts an inquisitive glance about the place. “Your mom isn’t here?”

You rest your head against his chest. 

“She’s never here. By myself. Always by myself.”

His warm breath tickles your scalp, his deep, silky baritone caressing your eardrums. “Hey, you aren’t by yourself now. I’m here.”

You relax in his arms, his soothing words engulfing you in a blanket of comfort. It’s true. For once, you aren’t alone tonight. 

He carries you across the room until reaching another door. He releases your limp frame over something soft and warm. Something familiar. 

You weakly pat around yourself and realize you’re on your bed. 

A weary whine escapes your mouth.

“Feed Walter…”

When you try to get up, the blonde shoves you back down. He meets no resistance from you, your body completely bereft of energy to protest. You slump against the sheets. 

“The cat, right?” he asks, cupping your cheek. You respond with a feeble nod. “I’ll do it. Just sleep, okay?” He bends and brushes his lips over your forehead. Relief fills you at this small assurance. You weren’t supposed to be gone the entire day. He must be starving. Your head sinks into the pillows. Your eyes rise to the ceiling as you recount the events of the night. A surge of embarrassment pierces through your drunken haze. Tonight was such a disaster. You made a fool of yourself. You couldn’t blend with the others. You left early.

Hell, you couldn’t even stand up to walk yourself back home.

As every moment replays inside your mind, tears gather in your eyes. The thin lid you placed over your emotions crumbles. 

You cross your arms over your face, loud, ugly sobs wracking your frame.

“What’s wrong?”

You gasp at the suddenness of Coriolanus’ presence. You peer up at him. His broad, lanky frame is looming over you, his weight making the mattress dip. His brow is knitted in concern. Stray platinum locks hang over his forehead.

Chest heaving, you swallow your tears.

“I’m sorry,” you say, sniffling.

His large hands wrap around your cheeks, his thumb tracing the damp, hot trails beneath your eyes.

“Don’t apologize. Just talk to me,” he whispers.

His gentle tone paired with your alcohol-induced daze pluck confessions from your tongue.

“I’m nineteen and I haven’t done anything,” you bashfully admit. A strangled sob leaps from your throat. “I’m a loser.”

He wipes the fresh tears that spill down your cheeks. 

“You’re not a loser.”

“Yes, I am.”

He scrutinizes you. Your heart skips a beat as his heated focus scatters goosebumps on your flesh. He leans closer. The smell of roses mixed with something spicier coats your senses. As his lids sink to half-mast, his face inching terrifyingly close, you note how long and thick his lashes are. 

You’re still outlining each of them when his soft lips collide with yours. A tentative brush at first. A gentle press; a silent question. One whose answer never comes, shock melting the words sizzling your throat. He deepens the kiss, humming against your tongue. Your head spins. Your skin tingles. For long minutes, he explores your mouth as you lie beneath him, too stunned to do anything but remain still.

You sink in disbelief. 

A boy is kissing you. No…a man.

And that man is Coriolanus Snow.

The information struggles to break past the muddied veil around your thoughts. 

It’s something you pondered about for so many years. How it felt like to be kissed. To be held. To be desired.

Yet none of it feels like you imagined. 

In your vivid daydreams or the romance books you’re so fond of, there never was this cold, overwhelming surge of dread coursing through you. 

This peculiar feeling of wrong you can’t shake.

When he frees your lips, you gawk up at him, wide-eyed and breathless.

A haughty smirk decorates his plump mouth as he cups your cheek.

“Here, now you’ve kissed someone,” he rasps.

He astonishes you by planting another kiss on your lips. This one’s rougher, hungrier. His hands travel lower. He fondles your soft flesh, groaning against your mouth. His mouth wanders to your jaw, trailing passionate pecks all the way down to your neck. You writhe against the sheets, a strange warmth blooming in your core.

He pushes up your dress slowly until it bunches around your waist. Cool air bounces across your skin and you shiver. His hands sweep over your trembling flesh. You hold your breath as he drops more kisses across your navel, getting closer and closer to your center.

His fingers hook in the flimsy fabric of your panties, shoving them down your legs. 

A flash of awareness crosses your mind.

“Coriolanus, what are you…” Ignoring your slurred pleas, he buries his head between your thighs. You stiffen as his mouth latches to your core. He flicks his tongue over your folds. Your chest seizes at the cold feeling.  Your back curves as he suckles your soft bud, his hands clutching your thighs tightly. He draws sluggish circles with his tongue, his blue eyes glued to your face the entire time. “Don’t,” you whimper. Your breathless pleas only seem to make things worse. He devours your cunt with even more fervor, bruises forming beneath his steely grip. Broken moans spill from your tongue. Your stomach coils, tension building in your lower belly. You peer down at the blond head bobbing between your legs. Your chest tightens, hot puffs of air rushing from your mouth. You grab fistfuls of his golden mane, feebly pushing his head, wrestling the mounting waves of heat sweeping through your body. 

You chew on your lip as the room sways around you. 

“You have such a pretty little cunt, angel,” he praises. Your cheeks heat at the lewd praise. He moves his tongue over your sensitive tangle of nerves, slow and greedy, collecting every drop of your arousal. 

You jolt and toss your head back as the pleasure hits its peak. Your hips cant on their own to meet Coriolanus’ ravenous lips. He unleashes a throaty moan when you come against him, your nectar dripping on his mouth and chin. 

You’re still catching your breath as you see him loom over you through your hazy vision. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he lauds, reaching between your bodies to unbutton his dress pants. He’s quick to do it, revealing his erect length, already red and leaking at the tip.

A lump forms in your throat. 

“Wait, Coriolanus-”

Your words are stifled by the firm, torrid press of his lips against yours. You taste your own essence and your forehead creases. You turn your head but his fingers frame your jaw, pulling you in for another rough, bruising kiss. His tip prods at your dripping entrance. Your heart leaps. Your eyes snap open. Your hands spread over his chest, attempting to shove him with every bit of strength left in you. 

He doesn’t budge. Your stomach sinks. 

You gasp as he grabs your wrists and slams them besides your head. His thick head pierces your walls, spreading your tender lips apart. A sharp cry tumbles from your tongue. It already feels like too much, like you’ll tear at the center if he keeps going. Your chest heaves, tears swimming under your lashes. He grunts as he drives his cock further inside you, the agonizing stretch drawing a ragged moan from you. Your nails bury in the skin of your palm. 

“I’m scared,” you stammer between disjointed exhales, your mouth quaking.

He shushes you, dropping soft pecks along your neck. He fills you to the brim, impaling you on his cock. You choke on your air, your vision flickering.

Strangled whimpers leave you as he drags out of you slowly before burying himself balls deep inside you again. Your lashes bat rapidly, your chest lifting. 

His lanky frame pins you to the mattress, his scorching breath seeping through the thin material of the dress. 

The bed rattles when he begins to move inside you at a steady pace. Every single snap of his hips into yours is slow and deep, making your toes curl and clouding your sight. 

The two of you become a mess of tangled limbs over the damp sheets.

“It hurts,” you sob, nearly passing out when you glance down and catch a glimpse of blood over his glistening length before it disappears between your slick walls.

“Oh angel, you fit so perfectly around me,” he whispers lewdly, kissing away your tears. He briefly releases your wrist to unbutton his vest and the top buttons of his shirt, exposing more of his chiseled chest. 

His breaths grow labored, matching yours. 

He ruts into you, his muscles straining beneath his clothes and sweat pearling on his forehead.

The air around you is sweltering as you suffocate under his body.

Tears skip down your cheeks, your core burning with the sudden, repeated intrusion. 

Your hot exhales mingle with his, his chest brushing against yours as you feel every vein and ridge of his thick cock with every sharp thrust. 

“Too much…” you mumble, a tide of helplessness flooding your insides. 

He grips under your thigh, finding a different angle that has your eyes rolling back. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips as you shiver beneath him.

“But you’re taking it so well,” he says, his hoarse baritone bleeding lust. He bends to plant a soft kiss in the crook of your neck. “So just lay down and be my good girl. Okay, angel?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, quickening his cadence and shoving your body into the mattress. His pupils are inflated with desire, swallowing most of the blue in his eyes. His dark gaze clings to your panting frame, soaking every second of twisted pleasure coalescing with sinful agony. 

The wet, lewd echo of skin along skin swells in the room. 

Your attention strays to the door, your head twisting. You blink, befuddled by the muffled sounds reaching your ears. 

Persistent scratching and screeching erupt on the other side of the door. It takes you a while to understand what you’re hearing. 

Walter. He’s making a ruckus that could wake the dead outside of your bedroom. 

A fresh surge of tears spill down your cheeks. Coriolanus draws your focus back to him, his fingers firmly corralling your jaw. 

You swallow thickly, taken aback when your gaze lifts and you hardly recognize him. His blue eyes shimmer in the darkness, alight with lust and a hint of something you can’t place. The blood in your veins curdles, your insides lurching. 

“Fuck…the way you squeeze my cock,” he purrs. He bends to sweep his lips over your bruised cheek. “I don’t think I can stop, not when you feel like this around me, angel.”

Your lip wobbles as you blink away tears, a shaky sob pouring from your mouth. 

For what seems like hours, the blond is unrelenting. Fear seizes your chest as you bear through it in the cage of his embrace. 

Eventually, his body stiffens against yours, his hips stuttering. He unleashes a deep breath and releases himself inside you. Warmth fills you, his spent overflowing your cunt and leaking down your inner thigh. 

He collapses on top of you, cradling your body against his. His soft cock rests against your belly as he nuzzles your neck. You look up at the ceiling, focusing on the patterns of the wallpaper as a wave of ice settles in your veins. 

Coriolanus drifts to sleep quickly, pulling you against him as he shifts onto his side. 

Meanwhile, you lie awake, your body still pulsing with pain, your muscles still knotted with fear. Your tears have dried out. No feeling lingers in your body.

You’re numb, empty. After a while, sleep claims you too. Your eyes shut as you surrender to Coriolanus’ tight embrace. 

You awake to the sunlight’s crude assault on your senses, warmth blistering your bare skin and a bright glow searing your eyes. 

Though you feel his arms around you, you don’t find the nerve to look back. Your breaths are quiet and slow as you will yourself not to move. 

You steal a glance at your disheveled appearance in the floor length mirror on the other side of the room. Your chest clenches. Your dress is still hiked up, exposing the darkening bruises on your lower body. Your blood turns to ice as you find the dried up evidence of what Coriolanus did on your thighs. Your hair is a mess, the elegant updo from last night completely destroyed. 

Despite your stillness, you feel him stir against you. You bristle.

“Good morning, angel,” he rasps, his lips pressing into your shoulder.

When you pry his arms off you and sit up, your face scrunches in discomfort. Your limbs ache in protest. You lean back against the headboard and pull down the dress.

You take a second to collect a quivering gulp of air. You then start climbing off the bed. Coriolanus’ hand clasps around your arm before you can stand. Your mouth parts in shock. He yanks you back on the bed and places a hand on each side of you, effectively preventing any escape.

“Is something wrong?” he asks

“Why would anything be wrong?” you mumble.

His fingers creep under your chin, angling your face in a way that forces your gazes to meet. 

“You’re not looking at me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“You’re almost naked.”

He smirks, half-lidded gaze swinging to your chest, where the dress has slid to expose your bare upper body. “So are you.”

The sly remark has a well of shame pool inside you. You tug on the sleeve of the dress to cover more of yourself and clear your throat.

“Last night…”

“Yeah, things got a little intense, didn’t they?”

You bring your knees to your chest, shying away when his fingers skim over your arm.

“That’s one way to put it…”

You stare at the rumpled sheets, the tiny blood stain on them beckoning your focus. 

The day before you hadn’t even kissed a boy. Now you’ve done…way more than that. The thought alone makes your head throb, tossing your mind into disarray. All of it happened so quickly. Most of it is still a blur. 

Confusion cocoons your thoughts. An errant one however slips through. A certainty amidst the haze.

“Coriolanus,” you call.

“Yes?”

“I wasn’t really…ready for that.”

He casts you a puzzled look, a slight frown on his face.

“I didn’t hear a ‘no’” He heaves out a long sigh as he soaks in your conflicted expression, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I’m sorry for getting carried away.”  His voice mellows, soft as honey. “Did I hurt you?”

You melt at his tone, a bit floored by the concern etched on his face.

“A little.” A lot, your mind loudly whispers though you don’t utter the words. “I just never…”

He bends to plant a feathery kiss on your forehead. His eyes dive into yours. You note how dizzyingly beautiful they look in the morning. Though you’ve never laid eyes on the ocean, you imagine it must be as blue and bottomless as Coriolanus Snow’s eyes.

He seizes your hand and brushes his lips against the back of it. 

“I know, angel. I’ll be more gentle next time. I’ve just been holding back for so long and you were a vision last night.” He beams at you. His fingertips roam over your ankle before he softly suggests, “How about we go have breakfast, you and I, spend the day together?”

“Spend the day together?” you muse aloud.

He pivots your head towards the window which offers you a view of the vibrant city, already awake and bustling with activity.

“Come on. A day like this is too beautiful to waste.”

Your attention returns to Coriolanus. His expression is bright and hopeful. A contrast to the hollowness inside your chest. The longer you look at him, the less you wish to disappoint him. 

Belated words roll off your tongue in a wobbly string. 

“I-I need to take a shower first.”

He fondles your cheek.

“Then go on. I’ll wait for you here,” he says cheerfully.

[thezombieprostitute]

Christmas Grump

Summary: Walter has hated the holidays for many years, much to your chagrin. But this year you've got an idea to soften him towards Christmas.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: you hate the holidays and i love them.

Warnings: None. Please let me know if I missed any!

Walter has been on the force for long enough that he knows to expect the worst around the holidays. Good will towards mankind? Bah, humbug. He knows better. Christmas time is when the worst of the worst comes to the surface and he hates every moment of it.

You've been determined to temper his grumpiness at the holidays pretty much since the day you met, back when his beard barely had any greys to it. Unfortunately, Walter was just about as stubborn as you.

At the very least Walter didn't try to stop you from celebrating. You'd decorate the entire house, except for his office. And goodness knows he never complained about the extra baking you did this time of year. He could be the biggest baby about making sure he got "his share" of all the cookies and treats you made for the department. Some of his friends joked about him practicing for the role of Santa with how many cookies he would eat but he never let it get to him.

In truth, he had been warming to the Christmas holiday since you came into his life, but it was hard for him to still appreciate the moments in comparison to the years of holiday trauma he'd seen. It was actually one of the reasons he insisted on going shopping with you during this time of year. He could see your joy at the lights, the gift ideas, the cutesy holiday paraphernalia and he could keep you safe. More times than you knew he'd silently warned off someone who looked like trouble just by glaring at them. As much as he wished you'd pay better attention to your surroundings, he was very grateful you didn't see the world like he did.

Meanwhile you appreciated that he would go shopping with you because he could carry the heavy stuff and it gave you access to his big truck!

"You're sticking with me, right, big guy?"

Walter rolls his eyes, "in spite of my better judgment, yes."

You chuckle and playfully slap his arm, "such a grumpy old man!"

"I'm not that old."

"How old is Faye again?"

"Too old," Walter shakes his head. His daughter was attending college already and Walter was suddenly feeling his age.

You kiss his bearded cheek to distract him. "Well I, for one, think you've aged like fine wine. You're even more handsome than when we first met."

He snorts in disbelief, but lets himself smile at the compliment.

You're almost done with your shopping list. They didn't have the canned mandarin oranges for the cranberry relish, but you can do quick checks for them until it's time to start the cooking. Maybe they'll have the snack cups of them in stock if you run low on time.

Looking at the remaining few items on your list you stop to hype up Walter. "Okay, Walter, we're about to go into the toys section." He groans. "Hey, hey, hey, we're going to get through this. It'll be okay! We're just gonna get in, get a bunch of stuff for the toy drives, and get out. Right?"

"Right," he sighs.

"That was weak sauce, Walter! You can do better!" You cheer him on with a playful punch to the arm.

"Right," he repeats, more firmly.

"That's better! Let's do this! You keep close to me and watch my signals for when to stop, when to turn and when to get the hell out."

"Right!" he high fives you before you lead him into the overcrowded toy section.

Walter is on high alert. He's seen what happens when two or more parents fight over the latest popular toy.

You signal a few turns, wasting no time in grabbing some items specifically requested by the people running the toy drives. The bulk of toys donated were for kids between the ages of 3 and 11 so you made sure to go for the toys outside of those age ranges. Some baby chew toys, infant mirrors, board books and the like for the youngest ones. Sports equipment, sketch books, makeup kits and the like for the older ones.

Walter was helping you get some hockey sticks into the over-packed cart when you were both interrupted by a cry of "SANTA!" Suddenly Walter feels a weight around his leg and, as he looks down, he sees a toddler holding onto him like a baby koala.

"Hello," he says to the toddler. "Can I help you with something?"

The toddler looks up, eyes wide with wonder. "I got wost. Mama says 'no talk to stwangers' but you Santa! You can he'p me!"

Walter's eyes immediately soften and he effortlessly picks up the kid. "Are you here at the store with your Mama?" They nod their head yes. "Can you tell me what she looks like?"

"She's pwetty," they answer.

"I'm sure she is," Walter says with a smile. He turns to you, "do you think you can get to the customer service? Ask them to send out an APB, or whatever they do, for a parent missing their child?" You nod and get moving, hearing Walter say, "how about I put you on my shoulders and you can look for her?"

It takes you a few minutes but you're finally able to find an associate to help out. They send out a notice over their walkie-talkies and you take them back to where you left Walter. You have to fight the urge to coo when you see the large, grey-haired, bearded man with a toddler on his shoulders. You and the associate show up just as the toddler starts pointing and yelling "Mama!"

It takes a bit to calm down both Mama and toddler. Your heart swells to see Walter in his element, taking care of others. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him. He is a very kind, caring person who genuinely wants to help others. But he needs someone who can take care of him so he can keep going. You're happy to be that person.

As they little family goes off, the toddler waves, "bye Santa! T'ank you!"

Walter's smile widens and you can't resist, "so when can I start calling you 'Santa'?"

He gives you a stern look. "Never."

"I dunno, I think that kid was on to something," you tease.

"No."

"I mean, the beard, the big build, getting toys for kids..."

Walter grabs you and growls into your ear, "be careful you don't end up on the naughty list."

"I wouldn't mind sitting on your lap," you giggle. He takes a breath and you can feel his body stiffen at the mental images. "But, first, we gotta finish shopping. Let's go, Santa!" you playfully yell as you break free and get back to the cart.

You keep laughing as Walter gives you a look that promises a delightful punishment for your behavior.

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @changenameno; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness;

@kingliam2019; @lokislady82; @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly

[j-the-latter-gay-saint]

Rating artistic depictions of Captain Moroni by how hot he is

Captain Moroni Raises the Title of Liberty, Arnold Friberg

A classic! Not bad looking, but there is a certain something about him that makes me want to know his whereabouts on January 6, 2021. 5/10

For the Blessings of Liberty, Scott M. Snow

Strangely enchanting, glaringly caucasian as he is. Somehow I am put in mind of sapphic lady knights like Joan of Arc and Cassandra Pentaghast and Chappel Roan. At the same time he looks like a regular from the Hallmark movie casting stables playing younger than his age. 6/10

Moroni and the Title of Liberty, Clark Kelley Price

Look at that bicep! Look at that tease of thigh! Look at that beard! But WHY does your armor look so Roman?? 7/10

Title of Liberty, Ken Corbett

Oh this guy was DEFINITELY at the capitol. 2/10

A Letter from Pahoran, Jerry Thompson

Another classic! ...Tell me I'm not the only one who sees "child of Dennis Quaid and DeForest Kelley." It's...it's odd. I don't know. The end result is Just Some Guy. 4/10

Come Forth, Walter Rane

You can't fool me! I know Matt Mercer when I see him! Not his best angle, though, especially with the strain from yelling. 6/10 (*Note: this score is not applicable to Matt Mercer himself.)

Captain Moroni and the Title of Liberty, Larry Winborg

The first time I saw this painting was a small, slightly off-colored paper cutout on a bulletin board at church, and I thought Moroni's face was much rounder and I was delighted at the prospect of a Moroni who looked a little chubby, known bear enjoyer that I am. Alas, I was wrong. But he's still quite handsome. 8/10

Young Captain Moroni, Lester Yocum

Oh, hello! An artist who remembered Moroni was in his twenties when he was appointed to his position! See that determination in those lovely dark eyes! Oh, and the curly hair! 8/10

Morianton's Maidservant and Captain Moroni, James H. Fullmer

First of all, we love a man who respects women. See that kindness in his expression. He is so strong, but being so gentle with his strength. Second of all: Daddy. He's got MUSCLE, and not in the bodybuilder way like some of these other paintings. Look at that nose just made for kissing, that hair just made for brushing strands out of his face, that beard just made for gently scratching your cheek. 10/10 PLEASE come sweep me off my feet and demand better of my government.

Send me more...Captain Moronis? Captains Moroni? Copies of Captain Moroni. And I'll rate them, too!

[dustinslovehandles]

Always gotta reblog this when i see it

》》》

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"It was so nice of Walter to help you with the shopping," your mother sings as she puts away a stack of cans in the pantry.

"Yeah," you agree, "it was. Especially 'cause he can carry more bags than me."

She chuckles, "he is rather strong. And big..." she's quiet as she takes out a few more things from a paper bag, "handsome."

"Ma," you gasp and look at the doorway, your father in the next room, still in the recliner.

"I don't mean... not for me," she cackles again.

"Mmm," you put the sugar in the cabinet and turn back as she stares at you, "wait... you mean for me?"

"Well..." her smile falls, "he is so helpful. And nice. And..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I shouldn't say. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."

"You are," you insist, "he's... a lot older. Besides, he wouldn't be interested."

"Hon," she chides, "he looks at you." She tilts her head coyly, "he watches you, you don't notice?"

"Ma," you snort again, "stop. You're going to make it awkward."

"I'm just saying. It wouldn't be entirely crazy, would it?"

"Wouldn't it?" You ask.

She's quiet again. She goes into the pantry again as you try to focus on unpacking. She's just trying to distract herself, you're sure. How can you blame her with all that's going on?

Walter is too old and he's standoffish. He's just doing your dad a favour, nothing more than that. You wouldn't blame him for wiping his hands of it all at Timothy's next catastrophe.

A sudden clatter makes you jump and has your mother scrambling out of the pantry. She grasps her chest as you hear Heather's shrill cry, "Patrick!" You rush out ahead of your mom and watch Heather hold him under his arms, placing him back in his chair.

"What's happened?" Your mom shoulders past you.

"He's alright, we were just working on our exercises," the nurse assures as she pulls back, "isn't that right, Patrick?"

Your father gurgles but doesn't speak clearly. Your mother scrunches up her fingers anxiously and hovers behind the recliner, "did he fall?"

"No, no, it was just the table," Heather points to the TV tray overturned on the other side of the chair. "He's doing very good."

"Oh, oh," your mother touches her forehead and heaves, "I was just... scared."

"Ma, why don't you lay down?" You suggest.

"I can't, I got the groceries--"

"I can get the rest," you promise, "please, I know you're not sleeping."

"Hon," she sighs.

"Ma, please, we don't need you getting sick too," you plead.

"Alright, but you come get me in an hour," she demands.

"I will."

Reluctantly she backs away, finally turning at the door. You listen to her creaky ascension and leave Heather with your father. You tremble as you set away the last of the groceries and fold up the paper bags. You tuck them beneath the sink and try to shake off your nerves.

You need a breath of fresh air. Your heady is fuzzy and your eyes glossy. You go out the back door and sit on the back steps. You shudder out a breath and hold your head. The tears trickle out before you can stop them.

The last week you've outpaced the emotions. Keeping busy with your chores, watching after your mom as she does the same for your father. It's like a snake with its own tail. You can't run anymore. Your shoulders rack as you let yourself cry, heaving into your hand as you hiccup loudly.

You just want your dad back. You want the man who used to tell you cheesy jokes about his tractor and pretend to get his finger caught in the machinery. You want everything to be like it used to be. You want to wake up from this nightmare.

You still as you run out of tears. You stay as you are, hunched over and quivering. The buzzing of insects and gentle sway of the grass hums in the air.

A sudden pounding in the grass brings your head up. Walter jogs towards you, wiping away sweat from his brow as he slows. He wears only a ribbed white take, dampened around his chest and sides. Concern ripples in his forehead as he approaches.

"Everything alright?" He puffs as he kneels before you.

"I... yeah, I'm sorry," you mop your face with your knuckles, "I was just... it's nothing."

You try to smile and your cheeks pinch and your mouth downturns. The strain in your lips tugs at your heart again and you sniff back another wave of tears, another droplet slipping free.

"Sweetheart," he rasps and surprises you as he moves to sit beside you on the step, crowding you against the short railing.

He drapes his arm around you and pulls you to him, pushing your head on his shoulder. He rocks you and hushes you. Even trapped in grief, you can't help but be stunned by his gentleness.

"I'm okay," you insist and try to draw back.

"You shouldn't hold it in," he says as he brings his hand up to pet your head, "your father's a good man--"

Before he can finish, you sob again. You shake your head and bury your face against him. You can't stop. You throw your arm around his neck and pull yourself close. He welcomes you in as his arm snakes snugger around you.

"I'm sorry," you babble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you chant the apology over and over as he hushes you. You can't stop. It's all spilling out and there's no way to stem the deluge.

[morlao]

Breaking your own

rules

▪︎Isaac Garcia x fem!reader

▪︎Y/N Howard, Jackie's younger sister

Things have always been tough for you. As the youngest Howard girl you were constantly compared to your older sisters Lucy and Jackie.

Lucy the popular sunshine that everybody loved and Jackie the perfect girl who already had her plans for the future figured out and worked very hard to reach them.

Don't get me wrong, you loved your sisters with all your heart but sometimes you wished that they - especially Jackie - wouldn't set the bar so high. You were always only "Jackie's sister". Even your teachers referred to you that way.

Since the accident it had gotten so much worse. While it was obvious that you were breaking apart, Jackie had much more self control. While she studied even harder, you could barely concentrate.

When you heard the message that you and Jackie had to move to Colorado to the Walter family, you couldn't deny that you felt relieved.

Starting a new life with the Walters also meant leaving this comparism behind. Or at least most of it. You could start over new. No teachers who acted like your way of grieving was wrong and no uncle who told you what your parents would have wanted you to be.

~ ~ ~

You immediately liked Katherine and George when you first saw them as they picked you up from the airport. They made you feel so welcome. One could only hope that the boys were just as nice as they were.

Well... they weren't. At least not all of them.

You hadn't even entered the house when you heard someone shout. "Watch out!" You could just jump out of the way when a boy with a skateboard zoomed by.

"That's Lee." George explained.

Right after him chased a little boy, almost bumping into Jackie.

"Be careful, Benny!", George shouted but you were pretty sure the boy didn't hear him - and if he did, then he didn't care.

George led you into the living room where two boys were sitting on the sofa playing video games.

"Boys, that are Jackie and Y/N Howard. Girls, that are Alex and Isaac."

The boys greeted you both with a smile. The way Alex looked at Jackie made you grin widely. Seemed like this could become interesting.

Meanwhile your attention was on Isaac and for a couple of seconds your eyes met. He looked very handsome with his dark hair and his laid-back look.

Isaac grinned and raised his eyebrow and quickly you looked away. You didn't want him to think that you fancied him. Because you didn't. You were not looking for a flirt or even a relationship. You just wanted to forget about the accident and start over new.

George smiled. "Okay, let's continue the tour." He showed you the kitchen, where you met Will, Nathan and Danny and the living room where Parker was playing Hockey.

Wow, you didn't expect so many of them. It would definitely take you some time to remember all the names.

At last he lead you in the garden to the pool and to a smaller boy with a camera. A blonde guy was just getting out of the water, grinning as he saw you and your sister. He put on a total show, acting like he was the best looking guy in the whole universe.

You hated guys like him. Way too self-centered and way too arrogant. Unfortunately you noticed the way Jackie looked at him. She tried to hide it but she was clearly faszinated by him.

"Come on, Cole! Don't be such a show-off!", Nathan said, rolling his eyes.

Living here could definitely turn out to be exciting.

~ ~ ~

A few days later you woke up to laughter and Jackie's screams.

The door flew open and she stormed in, covered in a towel. "I can't believe it! I can't believe they did this!" She walked over to the mirror and looked at her hair totally in panic.

Still very sleepy you rubbed your eyes and got out of bed. "Did what? What are you talking about?"

"They put bleaching in the shampoo!" She was close to tears. Her hair had now quite a lot of blonde strands that looked like somebody had drawn them with a paint brush. In other words, it looked horrible.

However, Jackie still wanted to go to school. Perfectly ambitious as always. She managed to take George's Baseball Cap and hid her hair with it, it didn't really match her style but better than nothing.

When you came home from school you walked right into a very angry Katherine and a bunch of boys who looked absolutely pissed.

"What's up?", you asked curiously, almost regretting it as Isaac sent you a deathly glare.

Lee lowered his voice. "Your sister is a sneak. She told Katherine what happened today."

Jackie, why... you sighed heavily before running up the stairs to your room. You couldn't believe that she told Katherine. You stormed into your room and walked straight up to her desk where she was sitting and doing her homework. "Why did you do that? You know that you just ruined your chance to be accepted by them, don't you?"

Jackie frowned, clearly not agreeing with you. "What else should I have done? Just accept it and act like it didn't happen?"

You shook your head, grinning. "No way, let's give them a taste of their own medicine. Let's see if they go to school with... let's say... pink hair."

You spent the next two days preparing everything for your revenge.

Jackie was not really helpful, in fact she seemed like she wanted to stop you. "Please, Y/N, don't do it. They were grounded, I think that's enough."

"Fuck no!" You had a plan and you were going to go through with it.

While the others were having their dinner you sneaked into the boys rooms and put hair dye in their shampoo. Lee, Isaac, Cole, you got them all.

No wonder that the next day you were woken again by screams and laughter. Excited you kicked off your blanket and jumped out of bed.

Who has been the first to fall into your trap? Hopefully Cole! You couldn't stand his arrogant behaviour and you also didn't get why your sister seemed so faszinated by him.

You opened your door and couldn't help but laugh. Isaac had just come out of the bathroom, a look of horror on his face. Most of his hair was bright pink. It was hillarious!

The only negative thing about it was, that the other boys were now warned. They would for sure control their shampoo before using it.

"New York is tougher than I thought", laughed Cole, eying your sister as she covered her mouth, trying not to laugh too hard.

"I'm sure that wasn't her", said Nathan before he turned towards you, "It was you right?"

Isaac's eyes widened as he also turned around to look at you.

You leaned against the doorframe, grinning. "Don't underestimate me, Garcia!"

Isaac POV:

Wow, he couldn't deny that he was impressed. He had branded you a popular spoiled girl, a city girl who got everything she wanted, daddy's little darling. Guess he was wrong. You were tougher than you looked.

He eyed you as you stood there laughing. He definitely had to be careful. You were not only beautiful you were also not afraid of standing up for yourself and messing with the boys.

A little smile escaped his lips and he ran a hand through his hair. "Good one, Y/N"

You raised your head proudly.

Long after you disappeared into your room he still stood there, grinning.

Your POV:

The following days you were extremely careful, looking out for Isaac's revenge.

You showered at 4 in the morning so that you didn't cross paths and used freshly bought shampoo. You locked your room and sat as far away from him as possible during breakfast and dinner. Except for "Good morning" you didn't really talk to each other.

To your surprise he knocked at your door one afternoon. "Hey, Y/N, wanna play videogames together?"

You turned around, closing your maths book. "Do you really think I'm this stupid?"

He blinked. "What?"

"If you want to play a trick on me, you have to try harder. I'm not following you in the living room. I bet you have some slime that falls down on me when I walk through the door."

Isaac looked at you perplex. "Nope, I just want to get to know you better. You seem cool." He grinned. "But that's an incredible idea!"

"No pranks?" You raised your eyebrow and Isaac nodded. "No pranks, I promise."

The two of you got along surprisingly well the whole time. Isaac had some snacks and drinks prepared and he showed you his favourite video game.

After a few initial difficulties, things didn't go so badly anymore. "You're not as bad as I thought."

You took another bite of chocolate. "And this from the mouth of Isaac Garcia. I feel honored."

"Yes, you should!"

Since then the two of you often met for video game sessions. He wasn't as annoying as you thought. In fact he was really cool and fun to be with.

Jackie still didn't like him and gave you a disapproving look whenever she saw you together. You didn't really get what her problem was. She was the one who constantly hung out with Cole! Isaac was a saint compared to him.

~ ~ ~

In the last few weeks you were also starting to spend more time with Lee.

He soon grew to be one of your closest friends. (You really thought it was necessary to have a best friend who isn't a close friend to your sister. You wanted your own life after all and not just a cheap copy of your sister's)

How this friendship with Lee started? Well, being the daughter of the famous designer Angelica Howard could be hard. Everyone expected perfection, even if they didn't say it explicitly. Most of the activities you did were only because they would look nice on your CV.

At the Walters' house you had the chance to finally choose hobbies that you really liked. So you wanted to try skateboarding.

One afternoon when the majority of the Walter boys were out to watch Parkers match you took Lee's skateboard that was leaning next to the door.

It took a few attempts until you were able to stand on it without holding on to the wall. Getting around with it was even more difficult. Again you fell to the floor.

How did Lee make it look so easy? You were glaring at the skateboard as you heard a chuckle behind you.

"That looked painful."

You turned your head and saw the Garcia brothers standing there.

Isaac walked towards you and offered you a hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.

Blushing you rubbed the back of your neck and smiled at Lee apologetically. "I'm sorry for taking your skateboard, Lee."

To your surprise Lee didn't seem angry at all. "You wanna learn it?"

"Sure"

"Okay, I'll teach you how"

Lee wasn't that good at explaining, his teaching methods were more like: I show you how easy it is by driving around and beeing absolutely cool and then it was your turn and you made an absolute fool of yourself (which Jordan captured on camera - thank you very much!).

Isaac's POV:

He couldn't stop smiling. The way you tried so hard not to fall off, your hands stretched out, looking for balance.

Soon he found himself watching you practise everyday and it wasn't boring at all. He enjoyed watching as Lee told you what to do and he even offered to give you a hand when you tried to make turns.

You were a fast learner - or at least faster than he himself when Lee tried to teach him some tricks.

"You're getting better and better", Lee said, clearly proud of himself as a teacher and proud of you, his student.

"Soon you'll turn into a real skatergirl", grinned Isaac and you gave him the brightest smile possible.

He stared at you, feeling his heart racing in his chest. Yes, he couldn't deny it anymore, he had fallen in love with Y/N Howard.

~ ~ ~

Your POV:

Lucy's Birthday. You had feared that day since the accident. And even though Jackie tried to act tough and strong you were pretty sure that she struggled just as much as you did.

While the others left for school in the morning you pretended to be sick and stayed in bed till afternoon, staring at the ceiling.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you" Your words were quiet, your voice shaking. "Happy Birthday dear Lucy, Happy Birthday to you."

Tears streamed your face as you whispered her name. Again and again. Lucy.

Jackie never wanted to talk about her or your parents. It had been months since you last said her name. It left a bitter note on your tongue.

Abruptly you sat up. You needed to get out, you needed to stop thinking about her.

Making sure that nobody saw you, you sneaked in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka. Katherine had tried to hide it, not knowing that you watched her.

The bottle in your hand you left the house, walking towards the barn. The loft seemed like the perfect place to get wasted. In any case better than your room since you didn't know when Jackie would come home.

You climbed up the ladder and sat down on the floor, your feet dangling above the ground.

Lucy. There weren't enough words to describe how much you missed her. Her spirit, her energy. You had always felt closer to her than to Jackie - not that you didn't love Jackie but she was always so perfect that you felt like you couldn't keep up with her. Lucy on the other hand was popular and outgoing just like you. For her school wasn't the number one priority. Her grades were good but not perfect.

"Hey" Isaac's voice snapped you out of your daydreams. "What are you doing up there?"

You held up the bottle of vodka. "Celebrating!" Your voice cracked, sounding drunk already.

Isaac rised an eyebrow. "What are you celebrating?"

You shrugged, taking another sip. You didn't wanna talk about Lucy, you didn't even know if you could say her name without bursting into tears. "My miserable life?", you suggested.

Isaacs expression changed from slightly amused to worried. He climbed up the ladder and sat down next to you. "Are you okay?"

The question was so absurd that you bursted out laughing. "Yes, yes I'm totally fine!" You handed him the vodka and without taking his eyes off you, he took a sip.

You didn't want to think about anything. Not about Lucy, not about your parents not about school.

You needed something to distract you, something better than alcohol. In New York you always went partying with your friends when you felt like your world was falling apart. Here in Colorado you felt more lonely than ever. Maybe you just needed to feel alive again.

Without thinking about possible consequences you grabbed Isaac by the collar of his shirt, pulled him towards you and kissed him.

Isaac's POV:

Was this a dream? Was this really happening? Did you maybe just kiss him because you were drunk? Did you really want this?

His heart was pounding violently in his chest as he felt your hands in his and your kisses against his lips. He pulled you closer towards him, leaning against you.

He had wanted to kiss you for a while now and even though he mostly seemed so confident, he hadn't found the courage to tell you.

He asked Lee about you once or twice, trying to find out if you liked him too but either Lee didn't knew it or he didn't tell him. What cheek! What else was a brother for, especially when he was best friends with the girl Isaac loved?

His kisses became more passionate. Hugging you and spreading soft kisses on your neck, he whispers: "I'm in love with you."

You giggled, kissing him. It would definitely be best if you didn't show up for dinner.

Isaac actually hadn't thought that you were so heavily drunk, he only noticed it when you two tried to climb down the ladder again.

You giggled, trying to keep your balance what nearly gave him a heart attack. It almost took you twenty minutes.

Isaac grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the house. "Please be quiet!", he begged you while trying to get a glimpse where all the others were.

Had they already gathered in the kitchen, ready for dinner? "Lee!" He whisper-shouted as he saw his brother and signaled him to come outside.

"What's wrong, bro?"

Isaac only gestured towards you, while you were trying to stand on one leg, giggling and blabbering.

Lee stared at you in shock. "Holy shit! She looks totally drunk."

"She is", Isaac confirmed. "We need to get her to her room before Katherine sees her!"

"What if Jackie tells her? She's always trying to act right, remember."

Isaac bit his lip. That was right. Jackie had already proved that she was a sneak.

"We bring her in our room", Lee suggested, "Nobody will notice and we can take care of her until she feels better."

Okay, that sounded like a plan!

"I'll distract the others!" Lee hurried back into the kitchen, making sure the others didn't come out.

Isaac kneeled down in front of you. "Hold on to me. I'm gonna give you a piggybag ride"

You wrapped your arms around him, laughing. "I bet that's fun!" You talked loudly, way too loudly.

Isaac heard Katherine's voice. "Was that Y/N?"

"I don't think so!", Lee answered quickly, trying to block the door, "She said she would be home very late. She has to prepare a talk for literature class with one of her friends - I guess her name was Grace."

He kept talking and talking while Isaac hurried up the stairs, carrying you on his back. There wasn't the right word to describe how relieved he was, when he finally entered his room and laid you down on his bed.

Your POV:

As you woke up the next morning your head was aching. You tried to sit up but stopped in the middle of the movement - and not just because you felt you might need to throw up due to the drinking yesterday.

This wasn't your room. You took a look around, wondering how you got here.

Isaac was lying on the floor next to you. The other bed on the other side of the room was empty. Lee had already left.

Was it already this late? Damn, you didn't want anyone seeing you sneaking out of one of the boys bedroom, especially when you still felt that you were about to throw up. You were sure that they would assume the worst.

Your memory of yesterday was very vague. In fact you only remembered drinking and... oh shit, snogging Isaac. Damn, why did you do that?

It's gonna be so weird sitting next to him during lunch and dinner and seeing him basically the whole day because you lived together.

You covered your face in embarrassment. Okay, stay cool. It was just snogging. Just snogging. You were pretty sure it didn't mean much to Isaac either. He always acted like the cool boy with his leather jacket and his macho posturing.

Slowly you started to stand up and grabbed your shoes that were lying next to the bed.

Isaac moved. You must have woken him up by accident, because he grumbled softly to himself and sat up. His hair looked like a mess but it suited him surprisingly well. "Morning, Y/N" He smiled at you and leaned in for a kiss but you backed away shocked.

"What are you doing?!"

Isaac hesitated, clearly confused. "Well... after last night I thought..."

"You thought what?", you snapped, regretting how harsh it sounded as you saw how hurt Isaac looked.

"I thought we were... we kissed, I told you I loved you..."

Your face starts to burn. "You WHAT?!"

"Don't you remember that?"

"No!" You gathered your stuff and stormed out of his room, not caring anymore if somebody saw you.

All you wanted was to get away from this situation as soon as possible. You had never been good at expressing your feelings or solving conflicts. You were only good at running away.

You ran towards the room that you shared with your sister, threw the door open and stormed inside.

Jackie let out a surprised squeak. "Y/N, you scared me to death"

You kicked the door shut and threw yourself on your bed.

Jackie didn't seem to notice how upset you were. She was lost in her own chaos. "I did something very stupid", she whispered after a few minutes of silence.

You looked at her in surprise. Jackie and doing something stupid? These were words that you normally wouldn't put in one sentence.

You walked over to her and sat down on the egde of her bed. Only then did you notice that she looked just as hungover as you felt. Was she also drinking? "I'm pretty sure what I did is way worse" you said, trying to cheer her up a little bit and offering her a guilty smile.

She shook her head, half smiling, half crying. "I went to a party with Cole and I... I was drinking way too much... I almost kissed him in front of Erin and the whole group... and when I came home and Alex tried to be there for me, I tried to kiss him too."

You looked at her in disbelief. You had never thought that she would ever do something like that.

She leaned over to you and pulled you into a hug.

"Hey, it's all gonna work out, okay?" You rubbed her back soothingly. "Seemed like you took a break from being the good and perfect girl."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. Then a thought crossed her mind and she looked at you questioningly. "Y/N, you said yours would be worse...what did you do?"

"Oh" You blushed a deep shade of red. "I was snogging with Isaac."

"YOU WHAT?" She stared at you wide-eyed.

"I was drunk, way too drunk... I just wanted some distraction from thinking about Lucy and then... it just happened..."

"How much did you drink? And on top of that Isaac?!"

You knew that she couldn't stand him, especially since his prank on her. "Jackie, please, I don't want to talk about it, not yet."

She nodded even though you could see that there were lots of questions swirling around in her head.

Since you didn't want any lunch, Jackie forced you to at least go down for dinner. The Walters were already sitting at the table when the two of you came in. Isaac stared at you angrily. You avoided his gace and sat down as far away from him as possible.

~ ~ ~

Thanksgiving. The first Thanksgiving that you wouldn't celebrate with your family.

You tried to keep busy in order not to think about it.

While you were helping Katherine in the kitchen, Isaac and Lee got ready for their video call with their dad.

Lee picked out a black shirt and even a tie. It was cute to see him so excited as he asked you at least five times if he looked good and if his hair was fine.

"You look amazing", you told him with a big smile, brushing aside the single strand of hair that hung in his face.

Lee nodded excitedly and hurried outside the room.

Isaac still seemed to be angry with you as he walked right past you without even looking at you. He didn't bother dressing smartly but you still thought that he looked very handsome. He always did.

"Can you prepare the vegetables, Y/N?", Katherine asked and handed you the bowl and the different ingredients.

Danny was responsible for the dishes and they looked really amazing. He even let you try a single bite of it. Delicious.

Katherine turned towards you. "Do you know when Jackie comes back?"

"She didn't tell me." Secretly you suspected that she would try to join the fiest as late as possible. That's just the way Jackie was. Acting strong and pretending everything was fine when really she was hurting.

The door flew open and Lee stormed inside. You had never seen him this angry and hurt before.

You jumped to your feet, almost dropping the little bowl of Vegetables. "Lee, what happened?"

Lee didn't answer. Instead he opened a bottle of wine, ready to get wasted.

You turned towards his brother who has just entered the room, looking just as unbothered as he did before. "Isaac, what's up with Lee? What happened?"

He turned around, glaring at you. "Don't act like you care. I know you don't."

His words hit you like a knife. You could feel the others staring at the two of you and your cheeks started burning. "What? Of course I care! How can you say that?"

"Okay" He raised his hands defensively but his expression said 'whatever'. "Guess you do care about Lee then."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on, you know that exactly! You played me like a toy and you couldn't have cared less about it!" He stormed out and you were so bewildered that you just stood there not knowing what to say.

It didn't help that everyone was staring at you, their faces asking clearly "What happened between you two?"

Avoiding to look at them, you ran out of the kitchen and up to your room. Why did he say that? You didn't play him, did you?

Nevertheless his words hurt you deeply, deeper than other people's words normally did. He seemed to hate you and you... you missed spending time with him. Did you have feelings for him?

You shook your head fiercly. When you moved here you had decided that it would be better not to rush in a relationship. Especially since you still struggled with the loss of your family. You needed friends, not some drama about boys.

~ ~ ~

The great bonfire, the party everyone was waiting for.

Of course you also couldn't wait for it. A party! Amazing! Finally some distraction!

You got ready with your sister and your friends. It was hard talking to Jackie alone the past few days. Since she and Alex started dating, he was always around, barely giving you two some sister time.

Originally you had planned to spend the whole party with her and your friends but then Alex and Cole started making their usual drama about who gets to be with Jackie. Pretty annoyed you walked off - which Jackie didn't even notice.

Lost in thought you stood in front of the bonfire, staring into the flames.

"Y/N" Lee walked up to you, a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

You didn't want to ruin his evening so you forced a smile and tried to forget about Cole and Alex' drama for once.

You poked Lee in the cheek and grabbed his arm. "Yeah, I really like the party. You know... the partys in New York are totally different from here."

A soft smile escaped his lips. "What are they like? Tell me about it."

"Well..." How should you describe the feeling, the unique style, the atmosphere? To be honest the only comparism that hit you was: "They are just like Jackie."

Lee raised his eyebrow, looking confused but curious. "What do you mean 'like Jackie'?"

You shrugged. "They are perfect in every way. Glamorous even. Everyone is wearing beautiful dresses and drinking fancy cocktails with straws. They are talking about their dreams and their plans for the future. Most of the people I know have already figured it out." It often felt like you didn't belong there.

Lee watched you attentive.

"Most of the parties I went to were organized by students in order to get extra credits. They seemed like a ball for a princess." You couldn't help but laugh. "I prefered the clubs. Dancing like tomorrow didn't matter and like nobody was watching. I have only been there twice." As a minor it was hard to get in, but Lucy had always found a way.

Lee looked amused. "And now you're here, playing beer pong and standing around a huge bonfire. No cocktails, no glamour."

"Yes, it feels like two different worlds."

"Which one do you prefer?"

"Honestly? This one here. No need to be perfect, just having fun and being yourself."

He chuckled and you took a sip from your drink. "By the way...have you seen the others? I want to convice Jackie to play beer pong against me. That could be my one and only chance to be better than her." Also she needed distraction from the Alex and Cole drama.

You stood on your tiptoes, searching the crowd for familiar faces. You turned around and you saw them, right next to the fireplace. Your heart clenched.

Isaac and one of the cheerleaders. The girl looked amazing. Of course she did, all cheerleaders did.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Damn, you could feel the tears in your eyes.

Lee stroked your back comfortingly. Hell, you were angry.

So goddamn angry, but not at Isaac or the girl, you were angry at yourself. You've had your chance and you pushed him away. Guess you deserved this.

Isaac POV:

He laughed as the girl in front of him said something about the party last weekend. He didn't pay attention what it was, honestly he couldn't care less.

Every now and then he stole glances over his shoulder to make sure you had noticed him and were still watching. I mean, what was the purpose of making you jealous when you didn't see it?

Yes! You were close to tears! He couldn't help but feel happy about it. After all it meant that you liked him, didn't it?

Lee was standing right beside you, his arm around your shoulder. Isaac's smile froze.

"Hey, are you okay?", the girl asked him. He didn't even remember her name.

"Mh? Yeah, yeah I'm fine." When he looked in your direction the next time, you were gone. Panic started to rise within him. Had he gone too far? Was it a horrible plan?

"I'm sorry, I have to go", he told the cheerleader, not caring that he interrupted her. Well, her story wasn't very interesting anyway.

Without waiting for her response he hurried over to his brother, looking around if you were anywhere near him. "Bro, where is she?"

Lee nodded in the direction in which you had walked off. "She wanted to be alone. Guess your brillant plan backfired."

Damn, he was right. But still he didn't regret going through with it. At least he knew now that you liked him because what other reason could your reaction have? "Did you tell her?"

Lee was clearly offended by this question. "About your plan to make her jealous? No, I promised not to, remember? Damn, just go and talk to her! You act like a seven year old!"

Lee's words made Isaac's face burn with shame. He was right, wasn't he? He really acted like a little kid. Hoping he hadn't messed completely with you, he followed you.

Your POV:

You turned as you felt someone walking up beside you. Isaac. His pretty cheerleader was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey" You forced a smile, pretending that everything was fine. You were getting better at it lately.

Isaac looked at you, worried and maybe also a bit guilty. "Is everything okay? I saw how sad you looked when you walked away from Lee."

You shook your head, smiling. "Oh, it's fine." Damn, talking to him was harder than you thought. Why was he suddenly so nice to you? He has been ignoring you or glaring at you for days, maybe weeks, and now... he left this pretty girl in order to talk to you? That boy really was a mystery.

"Look, I'm fine, Isaac. Why don't you go and have fun talking to that cheerleader girl. She seemed to fancy you." You didn't mean to sound this annoyed and bitchy.

"But I would rather talk to you, Y/N", Isaac said and suddenly he looked even more guilty. His face burning bright red he rubbed the back of his head. "I just talked to her... to make you jealous."

What? You couldn't help but stare at him. Your heart did a somersault out of joy. The relief you felt... did that mean that you liked him?

Your silence seemed to make Isaac feel insecure. He lowered his head. "Sorry, that was a stupid idea... it's okay if you don't like me."

"No that's not..." you hurry to say, "I'm sorry for what happened that day in the loft and for the way I behaved afterwards. I should have apologised way earlier." You avoided looking at him and stared into the pitch black night instead. "I didn't want to get emotionally involved... it wasn't sure how long Jackie and I would stay here after all. It wouldn't be fair to start a relationship and then move away a few weeks later."

Isaac laughed and you looked at him bewildered. "What's so funny about that?"

"Well... everything. You say a relationship wouldn't be fair but what you did is even more unfair! You made me fall in love with you, you kissed me and then you ran away and acted like it didn't happen. Like it wasn't a big deal."

You didn't know what to say. He was right and you knew it. But that didn't matter now. He just confessed to you! Your heart felt like dancing in your chest.

"Why don't you give it a try, Y/N?" His voice was soft, almost sensitive. He took your hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

You didn't know what to answer. Should you tell him that you were afraid your uncle would take you back to New York and that saying goodbye to him would be even harder? That you tried not to get too close because you were never good at showing your emotions? That you were afraid you would hurt him again because that's just the way you were?

A thought crossed your mind. Starting over new, that's what you had wanted when you came here. You wanted to leave the old Y/N and all her problems and insecurities behind and use the chance to become someone new. Maybe this also meant giving Isaac a shot. You liked him, so maybe you should stop running away. Maybe you should break your rules of not getting too close to someone while you were here.

You stepped closer and reached out your hand to touch his cheek. His eyes widened with joy. Slowly the two of you leaned forwards, your lips touching in a sweet and gentle kiss. He seemed restrained, almost fearing you would change your mind and pull away again. To prove to him that you wouldn't run away this time, you pulled him closer and intensified the kiss.

For a moment you forgot everything around you, you only concentrated on the feeling of his lips against yours and his warmth. When you slowly start to pull away, you couldn't stop smiling.

"We don't have to rush things. And I promise I won't show you off like a trophy in school." He chuckled, clearly thinking about the way Alex and Jackie acted - all touchy and totally embarrassing. It was so gross walking through the hallway and seeing them snogging in front of everyone.

"That's very good to know", you smiled back. Your decision was right, you could feel it deep inside you. Isaac Garcia was worth breaking your own rules.

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