#all I did was mention off-handedly what happened since both of my “parents” were in the living room

[sleepyangelkami]

you totally don’t have to take this into consideration at all but what if in the pastors daughter pt3 there’s ANGST. maybe readers parents find out and try to punish/harm her but ellie comes to the rescue 🫡

PASTORS DAUGHTER III e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 8.6K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you have a secret, one only few people could know, what would happen if the preacher found out that his daughter was dating such a dilinquent, or more importantly a girl. ellie williams doesn't hesitate to jump in when she finds you and your parents in your bedroom after your sister let your secret out. some smut at the end because you're all waiting for it.

 ☆ WARNINGS - innocent reader, smut, angst, violence, fighting, yelling, unpacking heavy homophobia, use of a slur, mentions of blood, physical violence, making out, innocence kink, corruption kink, kina size kink if you squint, fingering and oral (r. recieving), scissoring, kinda sub!reader and dom!ellie, my shitty writing, my also unawareness of anything in a catholic church (i'm literally catholic), intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread

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you never kept secrets. when you were young, you did everything in your will to keep your mouth shut but you were a blabbermouth, you couldn't help the words tumbling out from your lips. if someone were to ask you what your deepest darkest secret was, your lips would screw shut because truly, you never did keep secrets. any secrets kept from your parents, were secrets that not even your mind was fully able to comprehend, something you had not yet accepted about yourself.

but this. this was your favourite secret of all time.

it all happened so fast. how ellie once was your sisters best friend, the one in which would call you pretty names, have you a blushing mess before she even glanced sideways at you. and now, she was the same girl pulling you away from the others at school just to kiss you.

kissing. that had to be your favourite part.

call it what you want. some may say that you were so drunk off her kisses because you had never been kissed before, the feeling so foreign however you knew what the problem was, not that it was a problem at all. ellie knew how to kiss, better than anyone else in the world, you guessed. her tongue didn't bother fight for dominance, it slipped in so easily and you let it, you let her explore your mouth as crude sounds fell from your lips. you were drunk off her lips, the way they could kiss you so roughly, having you sitting with your hands placed on her shoulders to keep you up for you had chose kissing the girl over breathing a long time ago. the way she would kiss you so gently when she wished, whether she was leaving you off to class, pretending to brush something off your shoulders as she dipped her head down, a chaste kiss against your lips. you could drown in them, you were sure. in fact, you could drown in anything related to ellie, you'd die a happy woman. ellie williams had single handedly wrapped you around her finger and all it took was a mere kiss. if she had known this, she would have done it a long time ago.

however, it was still but a secret. you acted as though you were mere acquaintances in public, a small smile and a nod. but when she got you alone, god when she got you alone she couldn't help but ravish you. after all, she had been wanting you all day.

though it was a secret, it wasn't just you and ellie who were aware of the relationship. ashley had been over the moon when you had announced it and ever since then she had been asking both you and ellie about every little detail of the relationship. she was a fangirl, and you were her favourite couple. and, of course, joel miller had been made aware almost instantly.

you giggled, seated on your girlfriends bed, fiddling with the weird ball she had just given you. she made it a habit to hand you strange toys and watch your face try to figure out what it was in the most humorous way known to man. you were still getting used to being in a relationship. having a girlfriend. but with ellie, you didn't feel guilty for it didn't feel as if anything was wrong with what you were doing. ellie was an angel despite the devilish image she had created for herself in her mind. "you girls hungry?" you turned to see joel miller standing at the doorway, hand on the door handle as he bent through the crack.

"no, thank you, joel." grinning up at the man who had been only welcoming towards you since the moment you met him. you had already spent too many dinners at his house, however, your parents were dead certain that your choir practice was going amazing.

ellie gave you an amused glance before turning towards her step father. "suit yourself, i'm fucking starving." and of course she dragged you straight towards the kitchen because ellie was simply like that, she couldn't go anywhere without you, even in her own house. joel would only grin at you both, shaking his head as he looked down at the bread he was buttering. you were good for ellie, he deemed from the very first second he had been introduced to you, of course you and ellie weren't a 'thing' then, however, he could see right through the girl he knew something had to have been going on. he liked how ellie's days seemed brighter, how she seemed to be getting less slips from school, how she seemed to be doing her homework, that was one he was sure he'd never see again. he adored how sweet you were, always offering to clean up after you all, you had even cooked one of the days when joel had challenged your amazing cooking skills, you brought cookies over whenever you made them at home, you did seemingly anything to make his daughter smile, that was enough. and although he adored you, along with your older sister ashley l/n, he couldn't get over his distaste of your parents, one of which he had made quite apparent to you. he, of course, swore to keep your relationship a secret for he knew mr. l/n and he knew that he'd want you nowhere near that household, along with your mother who seemed to become witchier everytime he glanced at her. joel had come to grow quite very fond of you and when he saw how upset you could be with your parents, how you'd plant a smile on your lips and say 'oh it's fine' as ellie explained the situation, however, your eyes glassing over. when he saw how upset you were, his loathing grew for the nasty couple. he'd let you move in with them in a heartbeat, but he had grew to know you, and he knew you wouldn't wish your parents to be upset, so you simply brushed it off and continued with the constant abuse.

joel was always more than happy to let ellie use the truck on date nights too. it was a busted up, rusty red truck, whenever you glanced at it, joel always added "a truck that has been loved, y/n, adored even." insecurely, you might add. but you never cared, in fact, you had grown to love the truck.

of course, ellie always had to park at least a block away from your house, it would look too sketchy to walk in at the same time as you did. you'd enter, smiling and telling your parents that choir practice was, as usual, quiet but extremely interesting. ellie'd wait for at least ten minutes after that, then she'd enter with an eye roll from your parents as she greeted ashley, two screw ups, that was all they saw. and on those nights, you and ellie would try not to look at one another during dinner, to make sure it wasn't too obvious, of course.

ellie williams was a dream, a secret one that you closed off from the world. your teachers didn't know, your friends didn't know and most importantly, your parents didn't know.

princess i think it's very rude that you always come to see ash and not me, actually.

els would you rather me rat you out to joseph and mary?

you rolled your eyes at the message, her referring to your parents as such names.

princess no thanks but you should definitely come into my room with ash and watch a movie :D

els I'll do my best to convince the wicked witch of the west

princess eeeeeek thank youuuu

els you owe me, baby

princess psh watever now stop texting 'n driving

you grinned down at your cellphone before placing it flat down on your drawer, if only you didn't, perhaps you would have been able to see the many notifications that popped up from your sister, frantic. pushing the covers off, you stood from your bed and towards your wardrobe. you wanted to look somewhat presentable for tonight, you wanted to be pretty for ellie, there was simply no other reason to be rooting through your clothes at such an hour.

you pulled out an old, large, t-shirt. to be exact, ellie's t-shirt, the one in which you were gifted the before day that she had kissed you. you and ellie hadn't been together for a very long time, however, you were upmost embarrassed looking back at how much you shoved her away, fear eating away at you. it was shameful, how scared you were to let her in but you thanked every star in the galaxy that you came to your senses before it was too late.

you dressed in a simple baby pink long sleeved top and a grey sweatpants, after all, you didn't want to look like you were trying too hard. you didn't want to think about it too much, after all, you were sure that ellie wouldn't truly care to so much as look at what you were wearing. the thought was stupid, that the shirt you wore, or the way you fixed your hair had anything to do with your relationship, however, that didn't change the fact that you sat in front of your mirror and attempted to matt down the cows lick of the left side of your hair, teeth tugging at your lip in concentration.

you never wore make up, didn't even think about it, but you did when with ellie, you wondered if she truly liked the way you looked or if she just thought better not to mention it. nevertheless, everytime she hummed and called you 'pretty girl' those thoughts seemed to leave your mind in an instant.

your door bursting open caused your eyes to shift from the mirror, hairbrush caught between your teeth and hands on the top of your head. ashley was close to frantic, hands in the air, the look on her face had your own contorting to concern. "ash? what's wrong?" setting the hairbrush down and walking closer, wondering what on earth had been wrong with your sister.

her and your parents were out that evening with some college meeting. the thought of your sister moving had your heart wrenching. "i— i'm sorry, y/n." the closer you got, you could see the way her eyes were glossed over. before you could open your mouth, she was blubbering again. "it was an accident, it just came out and— oh my god." her hands pulling at her hair. "i'm sorry, im so so sorry."

you walked closer to her, confused as to what she was apologising for. by now, you stood directly in front of her. grabbing her hands softly, you pulled them down to view her face properly, it seemed as though her mind had been stuck on this for a while. this certainly wasn't her first set of tears. "hey, i'm not mad." of course you weren't, you didn't know what happened. "tell me what happened, i promise i won't be mad."

but your sister merely choked out half a sob as she heard the front door slam shut. your parents were home. "you're gonna hate me." a mere whisper, as if a warning. before you knew it, your parents were at your bedroom door, up the stairs in mere seconds. your father stood, a menacing look etched to his face. his brows were contorted into a heavy frown and his lips pursed, your mother, in tears, stood by his side with her arms crossed. you, baffled, looked between ashley and your parents, two of which had never looked so... angry. sure, they had looked at ashley like this, at non-blievers like this but never was it directed at you. "y/n/n, they know."

your eyes shifted between your parents and your sister again, heart stuttering. whatever they knew, it wouldn't be too bad, surely it couldn't. they couldn't know about ellie, they couldn't. you did everything in your power to assure that they didn't find out. the only people that knew was you, ellie, joel... ashley. "know what?" it came out feeble, small, as if you were a glass ready to shatter at any given moment.

"we know." your mothers strong voice rang out through the room and the moment it did, you realised. everything was so fucked.

teary eyed, fear stricken, your mouth opened and closed, turning towards your sister who was biting her nail, her own eyes glassy and apologetic. you ripped your eyes away from her instantly, you couldn't look at her. your heart dropped to your stomach, everything inside you twist. that familiar knot came back, the very one that had left the moment your lips fell to ellie williams' the second time, it was back and oh how it had multiplied. this was your secret, your only secret. why couldn't it just stay like that.

"so it is true then?" your father spoke as he abandoned your mothers side, walking right into the room. "you're one of them." he spat the word out like venom. you stayed silent, taken aback as you stared at them in pure horror, the very thing you had never wished to happen, happened. your body stood frozen still, mind frozen in time, too. "no." he spoke, shaking his head at you. and suddenly... he looked at you the very way you did everything in the world to avoid. he looked at you like you were a monster. "no daughter of mine would behave this way." looking you up and down like filth. "you are not my daughter."

you blinked back the first tear. you knew the minute it began... it would never end. "I— i am." you stressed, voice breaking as you looked at the man you loved with the most pleading expression you had ever had. "it's still same me, i'm not any different than i was before, you have to listen to me. i tried to fight it, i did!" and suddenly, you couldn't stop the waterworks. "daddy, plea-"

"it was those friends." your mother interrupted, stepping so much closer than your father willed. "i told you. I told you that you would ruin everything!" your mother had never been the forgiving type. "look where you are now! what you did, what you have destroyed!" and your eyes pleaded with your father who turned his nose down at you, he wouldn't look at you. "do you know what this will do to your father? to you? to us?" and her own voice broke, as if anything was hurting her. they'd never understand how hard you tried. how much you wished to not be this way but it didn't work, it never did. "why are you doing this? is it to make a stand against us? to rebel against your parents because you're fed up of going to choir?!" you mumbled something beneath your breath. "you better speak up before i-"

"you don't get it." frantic hands pushing at your hair. for the first time in your life, you spoke against your parents, not for them. "i tried— i really tried to get rid of everything, the feelings, the thoughts but i just-" you sniffled and wiped your sleeve against your nose. "i finally, for once in my life figured out who i was and i don't know what i was expecting..." turning your head away from them. but you knew better, how every were you supposed to get it out turning away. so you turned back, eyes burning into your mothers. "i suppose i guessed that you and him would finally take a second— just a second to stop being so focused on yourselves and understand where i'm coming from, understand me!"

your mother locked her jaw. "you think we're selfish, is that it?!" your father yelled, turning back to you. "I have done this, all of this for you!" hands flailing in the air causing you to flinch.

"no you didn't!" no one in the room seemed to hear ellie's truck pull up, nor hear the door open. "you did it for you because it's always you, you, you! maybe if you took a day off to look around you might realise that ashley's done a better job at raising me than either of you have!" and as angry as you were at the girl, you couldn't deny that ashley was a true guardian, they were not. "and maybe you'd realise that i'm not going to change." you stood your ground, as much as your voice wavered and your hands shook, you spoke, despite the tears. "okay? I'm gay." that was the first time you had ever spoken the real sentence. "i— i'm gay and i always have been! and maybe if either of you took your nose out of a bible and i don't know- at least tried to understand you'd realise that it's not a choice!"

your mother shook her head at you. "i don't care what the internet says. god doesn't listen to your kind's stupid excuses." your kind. as if you were some kind of an animal.

"uh... what's going on?" oh god no. there stood ellie williams in all her glory, jacket covered in rain and her boots beginning to soak your carpet, you didn't much care because by the sounds of it, you weren't going to be living here by tomorrow.

everyone whipped around to see ellie, an umberella in her hands yet soaking wet, sometimes you wondered if you truly were dating an idiot. "you." your father shot towards her. "you stay the hell away from my daughter!"

she gave him a raised eyebrow, however, she didn't flinch back. "which one? gotta be more specific man-" confused as ever.

"this is it, y/n." your mother turned back to you. "this is who you're turning your back on your life for, who you're turning your back on your family for." ellie's brows furrowed in confusion until finally, they relaxed in shock. oh. "i'm giving you one last chance to make this right."

it seemed as though everyone in the room was watching you. "turn back to the light, y/n." your father spoke as if it were some evil rooted inside of you. "turn to god and he'll wash away all of your sins. we can forget about this."

and you looked between your parents, both their faces as they waited patiently for you to cry out and hug them. you'd state that it was all merely for attention or lack of which you had gotten. you wanted to lash out, rebel against them because that was simply what teenage girls do and you knew the only way to hurt them was this. but it didn't come. your eyes glanced back to ellie williams, standing as dishevelled as ever before and she was staring right at you, pretty emerald eyes boring into your own. she didn't look scared, nor did she appear any bit concerned for your answer because she knew you better than you knew yourself, she knew what your answer would be before it even came out of your mouth. and yet, she knew you would chose her, between every galaxy in the universe, constellations in the sky, and yet, you still managed to shock her.

"i love her."

your mother and father dropped such sympathetic looks and suddenly, you were no longer a l/n, they didn't have that glint in their eyes as they stared back, it turned to pure rage. and yet ashley's eyes had softened on your frame, ellie's eyes could only go wide. you... loved her? you loved her too. she was frozen in time, her hands stuck to her side and her umbrella nearly slipped from her fingers. she stared at you and you stared right back at your parents, eyes nowhere near hers and yet even so she felt as though you were talking to her, communicating to her through your crystal fallen tears.

your mother breathed a sigh of pure fury. "you disgust me." and you knew she meant it, with every single bone in her body. but as much as you knew she meant it, you never would have thought she'd do what she did next. you didn't think it was so much as a possibility for her to bring a hand up like she did. suddenly, you felt a pang, you could feel your nose drip almost the same time that her hand came in contact with your face. you expected silence, one in which you could just stare at her, your mother, your supposed protector in which hit you because of what? she couldn't accept the fact that you were happy. truth be told, you were sure you and ellie would be happier than she and your father ever were.

the silence never came.

commotion enveloped the bedroom. "fucking hit her again!" ellie was in your mothers face before you were out of it. ashley swooped in then, grabbing a hold of you as you cradled the side of your face, blood from your nose dripping down your hand. "no, seriously!" as much as your father attempted to push ellie away, she wasn't scared, she was nearly as tall as him for bloody sake. "fucking try it!"

your mother was just as angry as she. "get out of my way, faggot." despite the tears, your eyes blew wide, where did she even hear such a word?

you didn't get to hear much more of their conversation for before your mother could so much as take a breath, ellie's fist connected with her face. you attempted to push yourself further, ashley could only hold you back as tears stung at the rim of your eyes.

this was all of your fault.

ellie didn't swing once, nor did she swing twice, she punched the woman at least three times before your father interfered. he didn't use violence, why would he? he was a man of god. "fucking pussies." ellie muttered as your mother and father stood off, your mother completely sobbing now, as you were, silently as you could in your sisters arms.

if only you didn't kiss her. if only you didn't allow yourself the satisfaction. if only you listened to that instinct that told you to run away that night. but you didn't want to run from ellie, no, if you could do anything different you would have run further, out of that room, that house, you could be in a different state by they so much as notice you had left.

your father stood off to the side, cradling your mother in his arms. "get out of my house." staring at ellie who merely glared right to him, not a shot of fear in her eyes. "now."

she scoffed, locking her jaw as she turned her head. "c'mon, sweetheart." eyes pointed at you. your lip was tucked beneath your teeth as ashley let her arms fall from around you.

"she won't go with you." your father scoffed back. "she's my daughter." if only he knew how little that meant after that night. ellie williams didn't utter a word, she simply held her hand out from behind her, eyes locked with your fathers. so you did what you had longed to do for so long. hesitantly, you stepped forward and stretched your hand out, it fell into hers. instantly, she locked your fingers together, a proud grin on her lips as she looked right back at your horrified dad. "by the holy bible, you will regret this, y/n."

"no, i don't think she will." ellie tsked and like that, she got you right out of that bedroom.

you didn't remember when you stopped crying that night. what you did know, however, was that it was not down the stairs or when you got in the truck or when ellie had sat you on the bed after assuring you that joel had a night shift. "ellie th-they hate me." you blubbered as the girl attempted to wipe your nose with a damp cloth, it was proving difficult with the tears mixing with the blood and the dried blood that had stuck to your pretty skin. you hated crying, you hated being vulnerable and you did not have any intentions of doing so in front of the girl you adored so dearly and yet here you were, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

"they don't hate you, sweet girl." doing her best to keep your face still as the damp cloth wove it's way around your skin. "they're just.. shocked is all." funny, she didn't think she'd hit a grown woman three times for merely being shocked. she was almost done with your face, still trying to get the bits of dried blood around your left cheek off.

you shook your head, still crying. "they hate me, they hate you. els 'm so sorry." ellie dropped the cloth onto the floor beneath her.

"hey, hey, look at me." she grabbed your face between her hands. "none of this is your fault." you tried to look away, she wasn't letting that happen any time soon. "it's not your fault they're close minded cunts. they can go— i don't know fuck the three wise men or something." this sprouted the quietest, lovelies of giggles from you, small, quiet but enough. ellie grinned, her eyes tracing every perfect imperfection of your skin. "there she is." a dazing smile on her lips as her eyes raked your face.

you sniffed, realising her hands had clapsed around your own. "you're not mad at me?" you questioned oh so quietly.

"mad at you?" she laughed under her breath. "baby, i'd never." she disconnected one hand, you ignored the way only one of hers was enough to cover both of yours. the free hand came to your face, you didn't flinch like before, you relished in it. the way the pads of her fingers traced around your skin, slowly pushing your hair behind your ear. a whisper left her lips. "you're too pretty to be mad at, anyway."

something in the air had shifted.

"els..." as her finger pads danced against your pretty skin. she hummed quietly, entranced by your pretty face. "can you kiss me."

"don't need to tell me twice."

her lips were ecstatic, rough against your soft ones. she captured you in a kiss so blissfully that it sent your face backwards slightly. her hands fell to your thighs as your hands sat on her shoulders. she was on her knees before you, kissing you so roughly as you ignored how hot you suddenly felt. you never kissed someone before ellie but for an inexperienced person or an experienced person, ellie had to be the best kisser in the world. it seemed as though everytime you forgot what to do, she was doing something to make up for it. she kissed you roughly, you sloppily chased her speed. her right hand travelled further up your thigh and softly squeezed. your lips parted and a noise left your lips, ellie took the perfect moment to slip her tongue inside your mouth, allowing it to explore easily as it pushed your own down, not bothering to fight for dominance, she would win anyway.

she picked your hips up slightly, detaching your lips so she could push you further up the bed, she stood before you, you looked up at her with pretty doe eyes. "fuck me." she mumbled beneath her breath before attaching your lips once more. she slowly guided your back to hit the sheets beneath you and continued to kiss roughly at your hips. your hands came up, gathering around her neck while her own fell down to your hips, groping the plush skin of your waist while her teeth came down to softly nip at your bottom lip, tongue soothing down the skin soon after before she returned kissing you. the feeling was so euphoric, so many things happening at once, you didn't have a chance to acknowledge them all at once, too busy focusing on the sudden ache between your legs.

oh no. it was happening again, that funny feeling that always settled in when ellie kissed you too long, when her hands found home on your skin in a somewhat different way than the others. "els..." you breathed out, detaching yourself from the kiss, you looked right up at her with desperate eyes, she knew then and there.

"what's wrong, baby?" as her lips came down to trace across your leg, littering small kisses against the sensitive skin that had your back arching against her and off the mattress.

you breathed out in frustration. "ellie... need you." pulling at her sleeve, she knew exactly what you needed, she could practically see the wet pool already despite the fact she wasn't even looking. "please..."

"please what, angel?" kissing against your neck once more, just beneath your jaw. you made a noise, one of more frustration. one that told her you needed her more than any other gesture or words would have. but she wasn't having it. she wanted to embarrass you, make your cheeks go pink and your eyes flutter the way they did. "be good and use your words and i might..." hands tracing against the bottom of your stomach, so close to where you needed her. "give you a reward, hm?"

you had never had sex before. in fact, you hadn't even thought of how it would happen let alone did you ever think it would be with your sisters best friend. a girl, you may have guessed but ellie williams, never. sure, you could wish but a girl can dream, never did you think it would be reality. there was one thing and one thing alone that you were sure about, however.... "please, ellie, t-touch me."

she moved away from your neck, looking down at you as she positioned herself above you. "you sure this is what you want?" clarifying before you began. "if you're still upset we can just relax, we don't need to do anything you don't want to." and your heart swelled, ellie williams cared about you more than she cared about anyone else in the whole world.

a small smile brushed across your lips. "i want to, ellie." you spoke, in a mere whisper. "I really want to." because it was her and ellie could make you comfortable enough to jump off the earth if she wanted to. she made you feel so warm... so loved, however, she also had this special trick where she made your panties wetter than anyone before.

"in that case." chuckling as she bent down to place another kiss against your lip, this one so much more passionate, not as rough. she kissed you again and again while her hands managed to ease around your skin once more, suddenly her fingers and large hands were tracing every inch of you, you almost held your breath. she soothed your shirt up a little, hands falling onto your stomach as she pushed her hands around, rubbing your sides up and down as you shivered into her touch. "you ever touched yourself, angel?" angel, a quite contrasting name to such an event. your face grew hot at the question, lips parting and closing once more with a small huff, the situation much too shameful. "don't go shy on me now, sweetheart." she pushed your chin forward, eyes locking into your own with lips brushing against one anothers. you breathed heavily, eyes boring into her pretty green irises and tracing her freckles that littered across her smooth skin. you made a certain hum with a nod, a desperate one as your back arched off the mattress. "yeah?" you whimpered as her lips came down to soothe your neck, pressing sloppy kisses across the delicate skin. "you ever came, baby?" a fragile whisper as the image of you in your bedroom, pretty legs parted with your hand between them as you desperately tried to get off. of course, how would you even know how to. her long fingers traced your skin, she had pushed your sweatpants down ever so slightly so that she was just above where you needed her. you whined into her touch, pushing yourself down the bed further with a small shake of your head, admittedly embarrassed. "no?" an almost teasing smirk in her face. of course you didn't know how to tease yourself, not properly at least. you were so fucking innocent and oh how ellie couldn't wait to taint you.

"ellie." it was a whisper, almost a warning so she would stop teasing you. endless nights, you had your hand down between your legs, hoping to any saint above that no one would walk in. you never quite reached that euphoric feeling the books explained.

"i know, angel, i know." you were far from an angel, you deemed. "let's get this off, hmm?" fingers slowly trailing up and down your pant leg. you nodded, breathlessly and panting as the girl gripped the waistband between her fingers. she waited a moment, watching your desperate face whither once more before slowly, dragging it down your legs with ease.

her eyes never left your body as the material grouped up in her hands, she tossed it somewhere then, she wasn't really looking but the silence that followed without a clatter seemed to be good news. her eyes fell, sitting on your pretty white cotton panties. a smirk fell across her face, of course they were. your breath caught in your throat, feeling the cold air nipping at your bare yet soft legs. ellie took the chance to place sloppy kisses against your stomach, her hands toying with the silky flesh of your legs. your back arched.

but before the girl could get to the place you needed her the most, you whined out, grabbing her shoulders. she stopped in an instant, coming back up to your face. " 's wrong, baby?" and you almost whimpered at the name, but you controlled yourself... for now.

your grasped at her sleeves, pushing yourself closer to her. "your turn." you mumbled, looking up at her with those hazy doe eyes, she smirked right at you. bending down, she placed three kisses against your lips before sitting herself up slightly, pushing her arms through the holes of her t shirt, you watched in awe as she tossed it somewhere in the room. your eyes immediately fell to her chest, ignoring the growing pit in your stomach. while in awe, she reached down and kissed your dazy state away. tugging at your own long sleeved top, she tossed it somewhere with the pile of clothes too, all sitting together rather neatly, considering she threw them when she wasn't looking. white bra, how cute.

"better?" she mumbled seductively against your lips, hands moving up to cup your covered breasts, palming her hands over them.

"better." you whispered, trying to keep every sound you possibly could contained and yet it proved to work to no avail as a small whimper fell from your lips.

she kissed down your stomach once more, slowly, excruciatingly so. hot, sloppy, open mouth kisses against every fraction of your skin. your back arched off the mattress, hands steady on the girls shoulder. no bra. of course she was wearing no bra. her lips trailed further down your stomach, past your belly button and only did they stop right above your pretty panties. " 'm gonna take 'em off." you didn't respond with yes but a mere whimper and you did what you simply couldn't control. bucking your hips up, almost hitting your core off the girls face. she grinned at what she had created, a rather damp spot soaking through your panties. "so fuckin' eager." you assumed she would grab your panties, toss them somewhere foreign like she did so many times before. you assumed wrong.

her teeth slightly scratched against your hip bone as they hooked around the side of your panties. slowly, she dragged the panties down with her mouth with little to no effort, sliding them smoothly along your legs. you glanced down, out of breath already. she had her eyes closed and it looked as though she were trying not to get too caught up in the situation, as if she were holding herself back. she pooled them at your feet then grabbed them with her slim fingers. you watched as she pocketed them in the back of her jeans and yet you said nothing, just watched as she grinned down at you, menacing face contorted into an almost evil grin.

but she couldn't look at you, not yet, before she let what she didn't want... unfinished. "before i do anything..." she mumbled, hand coming towards your chest. you gasped as you felt her pull your pretty silver cross from your neck, she didn't pocket that, nor did she toss it away, she simply placed it delicately on the desk beside her. who did she care, the clasp was surely broken anyway. maybe it was just a silly souvenir. you looked up at her, eyes barely blown wide. "what? y'don't need it no more, pretty girl." because the cross was a symbol of purity and you were anything but pure now. and the way your puffy lips stretched out, the way your eyes dazily glanced up at her as if she were made of diamonds. she knew it was official. she had corrupted you, molded you to her own liking.

you gasped at the sudden sensation of her hand cupping your dripping cunt. she almost laughed at you. "haven't even touched you yet, baby." you bucked your hips into her hand, oh how you wanted her to touch you. "all f'me?"

you nodded, panting like a lap dog. "please, els." whimpering once more. and who was ellie to deny such a request? you gasped out, breath stuttering as her hands parted your legs and one fell on your cunt. she rubbed two fingers against your pretty pink nub, watching as you reacted so... verbally. the way you moaned at the way she simply drew circles on your clit had herself almost grinding in her jeans. while she controlled herself, she simply couldn't stop by how reactive you were, you were in much too deep now.

fingers fell down to your hole, collecting your juices on her fingers. she groaned as she pressed her lips to your neck, anything to distract herself from practically fucking you then and there. she shoved one finger in, watching as you jumped at the foreign feeling. you had rubbed your clit before, of course, but never had you inserted a finger into yourself. and even if you did, nothing could have compared yourself for her slim, long fingers.

you moaned out. "oh... ellie." eyes squeezing shut as she began to move. she pumped her finger in and out, watching as you moved your body with it, practically fucking yourself with her finger. a knot made it's way to your tightening stomach. for good measure, she didn't add another finger.

she added two.

the feeling of her stretching you out had your back arching and mewls falling from your pretty lips while ellie attacked your neck with kisses. she pumped her fingers in and out of you, watching as you wriggled in her grasp, grinding yourself off her fingers. she didn't say anything, simply kissing your neck and allowing you to get off on her fingers. there would be more time to tease you in the future. besides, she'd be lying if she said she didn't adore the sounds leaving your lips and the way the bed creaked with the movements of ellie shoving her fingers in and out of you.

"feeling desperate, hm?" as she kissed up your jawline. you were sure, this was the euphoric feeling they explained. "want me to make you cum, sweetheart?" and what were you to say? deny yourself of the pleasure? certainly not. relish in it? absolutely.

"mmph." whining into her mouth as she captured your lips, tongue slipping into your mouth. "please ellie." you could have screamed for her then and there. "please ellie, make me cum!" her big body against your tiny one, she couldn't help but fawn.

"your wish is my command, princess." something you never would have guessed could be so hot. she moved her lips from your face and down your body. you moaned out at the feeling of her fingers, still fucking you senseless as your hands moved from her shoulder to her head. she positioned her face right in line with your core. you suddenly felt nervous but that feeling of her against your cunt was just so much more overpowering.

she didn't give you so much as a warning as her tongue flattened out against your clit, her fingers never stopping their fast pace. "oh!" your legs had spread with ease, sitting up bent at the knees with your socks sitting at either side of ellie's head, your back arched, hands on the back of her head while your own fell into the cushions behind you. eyes screwing shut, her pretty mouth working so perfectly on you.

mewls. whimpers. ellie could have come from the sound alone. they were nothing short of pornographic. how could she not smirk against your core as she lapped you up, holding you still with her free hand. she was making you make these sounds. she was making you squirm as you did. she made that knot in your stomach tighten.

your chest quickened its fast paces. "ellie— ellie, i'm gonna-" you were going to come. you had never reached anywhere close to that and here ellie was, effortlessly making you reach a hundred.

she parted her mouth from your clit. " 's okay, baby, let it out." and you assumed she'd slow down. once again, you assumed wrong. pouncing forward, she began licking and lapping your tongue against your clit once more, watching as you squirmed against here, almost screaming. it was when her name ripped from your throat that she knew you were so close. so close that she could feel your walls clenching around her fingers. she didn't stop, nor did she slow down as she awaited the arrival in which she had dreamt of the day she met you.

"oh god, oh god!" you hoped god was nowhere near that bedroom. "ellie!" and that was the last thing ellie heard before she felt you completely collapse around her. she felt white, hot liquid gush out from your pussy all over her fingers. she could taste you. your body jerked, the most pornographic mewls falling from your lips as you bucked your hips over and over again. she continued to fuck you through your high, tongue doing anything it could to pick up all your juices. the salty taste had her wanting more.

she didn't stop until your body was practically vibrating.

ellie came back up to meet your face which was embarrassed and flushed. sweat caused your hair to stick to your forehead and your chest moved up and down rapidly due to your irregular breathing pattern. pretty plush lips parted as you panted heavily. her breathing had picked up too, eyes grazing over your pretty skin as she lifted her fingers to her mouth, sucking off your juices. you watched entranced, innocent eyes blown wide. you wanted to shy away, suddenly beyond embarrassed as the euphoric feeling began to fade away. but you didn't, your eyes were too focused on the pretty girl in front of you. "you okay to keep going?" she breathed heavily as your head fell deeper into the pillows beneath you. there was more? you nodded your head rapidly, head moving up in an instant to lock your lips to ellie's, she got the hint almost instantly. you were ready, you were beyond ready.

the adrenaline sat in your chest, burrowing there as your lips moved at seemingly the same pace as ellie's, though you wouldn't deny the fact that she was leading the pathway, you could only sloppily follow. your eyes a little heavier, you assumed it was that euphoric feeling taking a toll on you however by the way ellie was beginning to unbotton her jeans, you could only assume that whatever was to happen next was going to please her just as much as it did you the first time and boy did you want that, desperately.

she was above you, kissing your lips roughly as her hands fiddled with the buttons and zipper of her jeans, rough material sliding down her legs with a little less ease than your own. however, she didn't waste a second to toss them into the pile of your discarded clothes from before. dressed in black boxers, you couldn't help but gawk at her but she didn't allow it too long for in seconds she was desperately raking them off her body, eagerly pushing the material off her body so she could feel you again.

you made a noise into her mouth, her kisses making your face hot, cheeks pink and mind beyond ditsy. as soon as she was bare, all fabrics discarded, she had pushed at your knees, sending them up so you were practically making a bridge with them. "fucking hell." a whisper beneath her breath as she looked at your already soaked pussy in your own juices from before. she did that. she couldn't help but grin in pride at your abused cunt. her hands fell to yours, pushing them down against the mattress as her larger ones cupped your smaller ones, holding you in place so easily. you were like her very own doll and oh how she loved playing with you. you watched as she hooked a leg past your waist, knee planting itself on the other side of the bed from you. you swallowed thickly and watched her in anticipation. you had never done something like this before. it was safe to say that you're stomach was doing flips, that your heart rate sped as fast as it ever had before but you couldn't deny the sole comfort her big hands brought, almost grounding you.

she didn't take another breath, state another word, before planting herself right on top of you.

her pussy fell on yours, she let out a groan at the feeling, sudden relief washing over her. you whined at the contact, holding her hands tighter if even possible. she bent her body towards you, hands still clasped together as she slowly rolled her hips against your own. you whimpered at the feeling of her clit bumping off your own. "ellie." you all but mewled. "f-feels so good." as she continued to slowly roll her hips, grinding down onto your pretty cunt.

ellie was in no mind to stop, eyes closed and her throat held many sounds of her own. "fuck." trying to do everything in her will to not take it to the extreme, it was your first time, she wanted to be gentle. "tryin' not to push it, sweetheart." alerting you of how badly she wanted to fuck you senseless.

you breathed heavily, the feeling of her pussy on your abused one so stimulating. "i can— i can take it." pretty doe eyes looking up at her as if you wanted nothing more than for her to feel good. and you did, you'd do anything to make sure she felt as good as you, it would be almost monsterous to deprive anyone of this euphoric feeling, the one in which had your legs trembling and lip wobbling as you tried to contain your sounds, ignoring the lump in your throat. "please, els." you whimpered, grinding your own hips against her, she let out a grunt, holding your hands tighter. "want you to."

she didn't need to be told twice.

she pushed her hips up and down, heavily and swiftly as she felt your pretty cunt against your own.

she practically got drunk off of your noises. holding you close, she never stopped her agonising pace as she even began pushing her hips to the side, rarely yet every time it had a new sound coming from your lips. she wondered just how many sounds she could make you make.

rutting her pussy roughly against yours, she listened to the crude squelching sounds from your wetness mixing with her own. "yeah." she breathed, lips close to your own as she held your hands so hard you couldn't feel them anymore. the feeling was too elating to move your mind from. your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of your stomach tightening again. "takin' me so well, sweetheart." and she meant it so much. she allowed her own eyes to close as she never stopped her pace. rubbing herself against you so carelessly and sloppy, she could feel her high coming on just as it had the many nights ellie imagined this very moment. hips roughly shoving your own down, you couldn't help but move with her as she fucked you senseless.

"ellie!" you whined, back arching off the bed. her sweaty forehead was pressed against your own. she knew that tone, the very one you had used before, the very one she imagined so many times.

she breathed out a huff, eyes still closed. "me too." and the knot was so close to untangling, she all but swallowed back her noises. opening her eyes she roughly shot her face forward, lips latching to yours. you desperately kissed her back as she began to rut her hips so eagerly.

you would have screamed if it weren't for her lips on your own, maybe that was why she had done it, to silence you or maybe to silence herself. whatever the case, you were much too wrapped up in your own world to so much as consider it. you felt your stomach finally give out as ellie's did almost simultaneously. her juices mixed with your own, like to complimented chemicals in a science fair. with her lips on yours, she groaned deeply while you whimpered, your hips slowly stopped grinding to her own and she too slowed her rutting. noises falling between one another, you could barely breathe. her lips were suffocating you and you would have died happily there and then if you could have.

two damp cloths and a toilet use later, you sat drowsy in ellie williams bed. your head was limp against the crook of her neck as she laid with you in her arms. after you had cleaned up, she offered you some of her clothes, stating she'd tell joel everything in the morning, claiming he'd be more than happy to let you crash because apparently 'he'd rather you as a daughter anyway'. you brushed her off but thanked her heavily, kisses falling around her freckles as she laughed at your giggly yet drowsy state. it was only seconds later that you ended in the predicament that you did, arms wrapped around her loosely while her own squeezed you close.

thoughts of that night swam through ellie's head. she wondered how fast that mood had changed, from crying with a damp cloth on your face to almost brought to tears by ellie williams' pussy. she smirked to herself before glancing over at the broken silver chain that sat on her desk, you hadn't even mentioned it.

the girl turned back to you, your eyes were closed and your breathing was slow, cheeks pink and lips plush. if she didn't know any better, she'd think you were asleep. "baby?" you hummed, quietly yet barely heard, you were too far deep in sleep, ellie wasn't even sure if you'd register her words, she didn't care, she needed them out. "i love you too."

crazy to think a little lust for the pastors daughter led her well... here.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[f0point5]

whenever i hear about ocon's parents selling their house and living in a caravan (iirc) i just feel so bad for him. it really reminds me of all those traumatised child actors whose parents quit their job because the child can now be the breadwinner. obvs it's two complete opposite sides of the spectrum but both are such unfair sitautions to be put in as a child! esteban needing to succeed because otherwise his family would be broke forever?? (also i know that these decisions are often mentioned in a heart warming "oh look at how much my parents sacrificed for my dream" -way, but i find it so hard to look at it from a positive light. i'm sure they did it all out of love but i just can't imagine putting your child in such a tough position and putting that much pressure on them. i guess i just lack that top performance athlete mentality lol.) not to mention that most of these racing children hardly have a plan b career plan since they usually drop out of school. so now you have a kid who single handedly has to save the family from financial ruin AND has no safety net or plan b whatsoever. that's just insane and it's no wonder esteban is like that. he really has the ultimate rags to riches back story but his history gave him such a massive chip on his shoulder that he's just become unlikeable, which sucks!!! wish someone would grab his shoulders and shake him around a little and say: estieee!! youve made it!! stop driving like losing would full on kill you and just focus on getting the best out of the car and be the best you can be!! you'd think that someone with his backstory would be the last person who'd need to be humbled, but fucking hell he acts so smug and can be so delusional it's exhausting.

anyyyyways, apologies for dropping a full essay in your askbox, i don't even care about esteban lmao. it's just that whenever i do happen to think about him i just get so frustrated 🤷🏼‍♀️😬

have a lovely evening!! 💞

This.

I remember reading that once when I didn’t know too much about him and thinking, okay that’s a bit extreme. And then I thought about how much pressure that must have put on him. Pressure to succeed, but also just pressure in terms of that being not an ideal quality of life for a teenage boy. His parents made his life exponentially harder in every single way to support his hobby in the hopes that he could turn it into a career to support them. And then I thought about the fact that if he hadn’t been that 0.00001% that makes it, how much harder his life would have got, and how much guilt he would have lived with. They set him up to live with constant insecurity and instability, and to shoulder the burden of making that all worth it for them. Who does that to their child? I don’t care how talented you think they are, betting you’re financial security on that is imbecile behaviour. Even Esteban said if he were in his parents’ position he wouldn’t do it. Poor guy knows what it does to child.

It’s exactly like moving your kids to LA to be the breadwinner, except it’s worse because the amount of kids able to support a family on acting work is probably 10,000 times the the amount of drivers making enough money to support a family from driving alone. Statistically, there was a 0% chance that that gamble would pay off for them but they did it anyway. That’s worse odds than a slot machine. And they bet the house their son was living in?! Ew. Just ew.

And yeah, people say “look what my parents sacrificed for my dream” with affection when that dream has come true. But what would have happened if he hadn’t made it. “Look what my parents destroyed because they bet my future and theirs on my childhood hobby”. What in the damn hell. These stories are not in any way endearing to me - they’re just examples of narcissistic and irresponsible parenting.

And now I’ve just seen clips of a podcast he did talking about his childhood and I was almost tearing up for him. How he and his dad used to take tyres from the other kids’ karts out of the bins and reuse them because he didn’t have enough sets over a weekend, and how he didn’t go to birthday parties or on holiday because it was all focused on his racing. That’s a CHILD. And he was talking about how he and his dad would see Max and Jos and how everyone was intimidated by them but he and his dad weren’t…because they had literally bet their shirts on his career and couldn’t afford to be scared. That. Is. A. Child. What if he woke up one day and didn’t want to do it anymore? What if he wanted a life beyond what his parents chose for him by putting their lives on the line? Would he have been allowed to? I mean. No bloody words.

Again, anyone who says Jos is a problem father better be coming for the Ocons (and Anthony Hamilton).

The way he is is so clearly connected to the fact that he lived his whole life in survival mode. That guy moves through the world like the last meal he had was one he had to fight for in an abandoned warehouse. And fair enough it got him where he needed to go, but once you’ve made it, It’s the most unpalatable energy to be around, and it no longer serves you. And it also makes you look like an ass because how can you be a whole f1 driver and stink of desperation. Logically it’s clear why but it’s still just not a likeable combination. He probably knows that, but doesn’t know any other way to be. That’s why he has such an issue with teammates - he can’t not fight for things because he’s always scared someone is going to take something from him. He’s like a stray dog that you take in and they hide food in their bed because they think you might not ever feed them again.

I really hope he’s getting some therapy because the childhood is trauma-ing out in the open.

I think of everyone on the grid he’s the one I feel most sorry for, because of all the backstories that you hear, he seems the most unhealed.

But the levels of delulu is something else. That f3 season where he beat Max (racing for a top team while Max was in one that I don’t think had even won a race until Max won 10 in one season) really got him thinking they were on a level and he hasn’t let go of it since. He’s like “oh I look at it like I’ve never had the opportunity to go against Max because we’ve always been in different leagues of car”…as if there’s not a REASON. You’re out here like “he’s in a red bull” well why aren’t you? By your own admission you were on the same f3 track…helmut wasn’t looking for you bro.

Hope you don’t mind my essay back lol. I’m low-key obsessed with him because I find him so annoying but at the same time he’s like literary gold dust. He has such Main Character backstory. It’s just a pity he comes across so unlikeable to me. And the thing is, I genuinely think underneath it all he is a sweet person (delulu still, but sweet), but it just comes secondary to his survival mode personality.

[realcube]

you flinch during an argument

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request 

characters ♡ suna, atsumu & sakusa

content warning ♡ cursing, angst, mentions of abuse, hurt to comfort, hinted ptss, parent!reader (in sakusa’s)

rintarō suna

♡ he paced back and forth through the living room, casting you dirty looks whenever you try to speak 

♡ you rolled your eyes at how far he took your singular comment on his volleyball career

♡ you were aware that what you said might’ve offended him and in any other situation you would’ve just apologised but considering how needlessly confrontational he was being, of course you were going to be mean too

♡ ‘rin, you’re being overdramatic.’ you muttered off-handedly, assuming he’d brush it off like everything else you said, so ofc you did not expect what he did next

♡ he suddenly stormed over to you 

♡ not only did he take you by surprise but also his furrowed brows and generally mad aura unnerved you too, so your natural instinct was to flinch 

♡ once he saw that, he immediately stopped in his tracks 

♡ his head slowly tilted to the side and his clenched jaw loosened, ‘(y/n)?’

♡ your hands were still covering your face but when you heard the suna’s soft voice, you realised what you had just done and craned your neck out to peer over your hands, ‘yes?’

♡ obviously, his intention wasn’t to hurt you but rather just stand in front of you. though it worried him that your natural instinct was to prepare yourself for harm from him. despite the fact he would/has never hit you. 

♡ ‘are you okay?’ he sighed, slowly approaching you as if you were a small critter that’d run away in fright at any moment

♡ you hesitantly lowered your arms, eyes wide as you intensely examined his every move, ‘i’m fine. are you okay?’

♡ suna gestured to the seat beside you on the couch, ‘i’m good. can i sit?’

♡ you simply nodded

♡ he reluctantly sat down next to you and gently placed his hand on your knee, tracing circles with his thumb, ‘i didn’t mean to scare you. i’m sorry.’ he said, his now hushed voice contrasting to how sharp and loud his words were just a minute ago

♡ you blinked rapidly, shocked at how quickly his demeanour changed but also relieved he realised that what he did brought you discomfort, ‘it’s fine, i guess. it just looked like you were going to- y’know. and i’m sorry too, what i said was uncalled for’ you murmured, the words just falling from your lips without any prior thought as your mind was somewhere else

♡ ‘i’d never do that.’ he blurted out, ‘but i get why you might’ve thought.’

♡ a few minutes passed and not a word was spoken - you just blankly stared at the wall opposite, completely lost in thought while suna closed his eyes, slumped back in his seat and revaluated everything he did 

♡ eventually, you snapped out of your contemplation and turned to look at him, only to see his sleeping figure beside you 

♡ it was probably the most peaceful you’ve saw him all day - so you decided against waking him up and instead cuddled up to him, accidentally falling asleep yourself 

atsumu miya

♡ you had your arms crossed over your chest, patiently waiting for atsumu to finish his hissy fit

♡ ‘it was a fucking joke, (y/n)! not that i’d expect you to understand my humour anyway. do you not get what you did? you fucking embarrassed me.’

♡ ‘it wasn’t a very funny joke, atsumu.’ you shook your head disapprovingly, trying your very best to keep a level-head but his nasty remarks didn’t make it an easy task for you, ‘you made me really uncomfortable so of course i was going to say something. also, i didn’t embarrass you, you embarrassed yourself.’

♡ the fact you weren’t as worked-up about this as he was only irritated him more. because deep-down, he knew he was being overdramatic and the contrast between both of your demeanours only highlighted this fact.

♡ he gritted his teeth together, momentarily side-eyeing you before absentmindedly cracking his knuckles

♡ he cracked his bones when he got tense - you knew this - but there was a faint voice at the back of your head, insisting that you had to run away bc he was preparing to hit you 

♡ and it didn’t help when he jerked his head around to look at you 

♡ though it was only the movement of his neck, this caused you to flinch as a part of you expected his hasty motion to be followed by a swing of his hand 

♡ you never really thought too much of your action and assumed atsumu would pay no mind to it and continue to talk but you couldn’t have been more wrong

♡ he slapped his hand over his mouth and let out gasp as though his whole soul was exiting his body through his mouth

♡ your eyes were squeezed shut but you blinked them open to see when you mentally established that atsumu wasn’t going to swing at you and had actually stopped yelling

♡ ‘(y/n)- i’d- i’d never do that!’ the volume of his voice gradually rose as he spoke, starting as breathy emphasis and increasing to a cry

♡ upon noticed his appalled expression and his frozen structure, you dropped your arms which you had automatically raised in defence, ‘you’d never do what?’  you voice was hushed, afraid that if you spoke too loud, you’d reignite his temper

♡ he rushed over to your side, immediately opening up his strong arms for you to enter, if you wished, ‘i’d never hit you.’

♡ both his eyes and tone seemed sincere so without even thinking, you found yourself leaning into his embrace, his arms holding you close - but gently

♡ you really had no reason not to believe him as he’s never harmed you purposely in the past and he didn’t plan on harming you just there; he didn’t even plan on intimidating you but that kinda just happened involuntarily

♡ he had so much on his mind, so much he needed so say at once, so much he wanted you to know. hence, it all came out as rambles. 

♡ ‘i love you, (y/n). i love you so much. i don’t want anyone to hurt you - including myself. i just want you to feel safe - i want you to be safe - so i’ll leave if you don’t feel that way with me around. i can understand why you wouldn’t. but heh, i guess it’s quite funny because i feel the safest when i’m with you. well, it’s not funny - i’m actually gonna miss you like hell - but it’s ironic. i wouldn’t even dream of harming you, love, but i don’t expect you to live in fear constantly so yeah, i’ll go if you want me to.’

♡ you blinked rapidly against his chest, pulling back to look him in the eyes and to your surprise, he appeared to be in more tears than you

♡ ‘i love you too, atsumu.’ you cooed, wiping away one of his tears with your shivering hand, ‘we don’t have to break-up. i mean, truthfully, i feel safe when you’re around too.’

♡ he let out an audible sigh of relief, ‘thank goodness.’

♡ a few moments passed of you just silently enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms until he spoke up once again while placing an infintite amount of kisses on your forehead, punctuating each kiss with an ‘i love you.’

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he was sitting beside you on the bed but he had long before withdrew his arm which rested behind your head when you expressed your concern surrounding his hostile behaviour lately 

♡ ‘omi, i’m too ti--’

♡ ‘don’t call me that.’

♡ you sighed as you realised that this had spiralled into a heated fight which you really didn’t intend for it to become. all you wanted to do was talk to him about how rude he’s been to you and the baby as of recently and try to work out a solution but he had turned this into something way bigger than it needed to be.

♡ the remarks he was throwing around - as if they were nothing - resulted in a wrath bubbling in the pits of your stomach, which had been present and building up since the start of sakusa’s attitude problems 

♡ you knew that if this argument didn’t stop soon, you’d lash out on him and although you really didn’t have a problem with that in theory, you had spent hours trying to get the baby to fall asleep and you didn’t want to risk waking them up with the noise 

♡ and though you hated to give sakusa (mental) praise in a situation like this, you had to admit that he was good at keeping his voice down even while angry

♡ so you decided that it was best to diffuse this situation quickly and pick it up at a later date, ‘you know what, kiyoomi--’

♡ ‘don’t call me that either.’ at this point it was clear he was just saying that to piss you off, and it was working

♡ ‘--i’m going to bed; i’m tired from doing all the work in this damn house. we’ll talk about this later.’

♡ sakusa quirked a brow, scoffing at your statement despite the fact it was completely true 

♡ ‘no, let’s talk about it right now. since you clearly have a lot to say.’ 

♡ instead of replying, you gave him what he deserved - the silent treatment

♡ you casually pulled off your slippers, tossing them aside, proceeding to do other nightly activities - while completely ignoring his presence - then reached down to pull the duvet over yourself so you could drift into sweet, serene slumber to imagine a life where sakusa acted like loved you again  

♡ ‘(y/n).’ sakusa snapped, his voice sharp and demanding, ‘listen to me. talk to me- god, you’re so immature.’

♡ your eyes widened; out of the corner of your eye you saw him quickly raise his arm

♡  during your three years of marriage with sakusa, not once had he ever purposefully harmed you - physically or emotionally - but you were aware that what you were doing displeased him so your immediate reaction was to turn away and shield yourself with your forearms

♡ sakusa froze

♡ moments passed and you had yet to feel the impact of his hand so you lowered your defences to peer at him, only to see that his arm was stretched upwards as he yawned

♡ his gaze flickered between you and his arm - he was truly at a loss for words at what he just witnessed

♡ a lump formed at the back of his dry throat as he didn’t dare to speak, trying to communicate all his emotions through his eyes which grew increasingly difficult as they began to burn with tears and ache from the elongated period of time he went without blinking 

♡ he wanted to tell you that he’d never lay an finger on you in that way, that he adores you and he was aware of how he’s been treating you recently but he was previously too arrogant to change his ways. now he was ready to change though, if it’s not too late. 

♡ but all that came out was a choked syllable followed by a cough 

♡ ‘are you okay, omi?’ you tilted your head, watching as your husband coughed his lungs out beside you, his puffy, irritated eyes squeezed shut

♡ he eventually managed to catch his breath and the first thing he did was offer his shaky hand to you 

♡ though you were reluctant at first, upon meeting his gaze, it was as though his fury had melted away. his eyebrows were no longer knitted together, his judgemental sneer was now a gentle smile he wore to try reassure you and the way he looked at you resembled how he did on your wedding day. all the resentment, all the stress and all irritation was gone - which left you with the considerate, understanding man you had married. 

♡ you fingers found their way to his as you slowly intertwined them together, ‘we should, uh, g-get some rest, yeah?’ you stuttered, your lips gradually curling into a weak grin

♡ a faint hum of agreement could be heard from sakusa as he shuffled so he was now laying down, with a duvet draped over him 

♡ though he lay with the intention of going to sleep, he kept his hand locked with yours all throughout the night

[americancowgirl19]

Initials

Summary: Bucky and Steve finds their third soulmate in Wanda’s sister. Only problem is that she’s supposed to be dead, not Hydra’s new prized possession.

Warnings: fluff, angst, violence, slight gory details,

Reader: Female Enhanced Reader

Pairings: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,845

A/n: This is a soulmate one shot where your soulmates initials are imprinted on the insides of your wrists.... Might do a part two, not sure yet...

Masterlist

“We’ve got a new threat,” Maria says, entering the conference room. She tosses a thin file onto the table. The Avengers sitting at the table look at the file before Steve reaches for it. The only contents within the folder is a blurry picture and a list of confirmed kills.

“This is all we know?” Steve questions, his eyes flickering up to Maria. 

“That and this,” She says, motioning toward the screen. A moment later a grainy video plays. They observe the feminine figure completely take down a building of armed agents single handedly.

“Wait...” Wanda whispers, shifting to the edge of her seat. Maria replays the videos while others glance towards the her. “I know her,”

“Care to share with the class?” Tony questions. Wanda doesn’t respond right away, simply looks at the screen with misty eyes.

“Wanda, if you know who she is, we need to know,” Natasha explains lightly. Wanda blinks away the tears and clears her throat.

“She’s my sister,” She responds in a quiet voice.

“Excuse me, did you say sister?” Tony asks. “How many of you are there?” Everyone ignores him.

“Her names Y/n,” Wanda begins to explain. “She’s my older sister, she looked after Pietro and I when our parents were killed,”

“What happened to her?” Steve questions, while Bucky glances at his wrist wondering if his partner has the same feeling in his chest.

“She died,” Wanda says, glancing toward him. “Hydra approached the three of us about the experiments. They made all these promises and while my brother and I were quick to agree Y/n was more hesitant. Pietro and I wouldn’t listen to her concerns, we made it clear we were going to continue with Hydra with or without her,” Wanda admits regrettably. “We weren’t the only ones to be experimented on but Pietro and I were the only ones to survive,”

“And your sister?” Natasha questions.

“We were told she had died,” Wanda says. “Obviously they lied to us. They must have moved her to a different facility,”

“Do you have any idea of what she can do?” Steve asks.

“Before we were told she died she could heal quickly. When I say heal, I mean you could cut her arm off and a new one would grow back,” Wanda explains.

“Must be nice,” Bucky mutters. Steve continues to stare at Wanda but rests a hand on Buck’s thigh.

“It’s been years since then, I doubt that is all she can do now,” Wanda warns them. “I also know that she never wanted any of this. The only reason why she agreed was to try and keep the three of us together. Whatever she’s done, it’s not of her own free will,”

“We’ll find her and try to bring her in,” Steve says.

“We have experience with forced Hydra assets,” Bucky mentions. Wanda glances toward him. “We’ll help her,” He assures knowing Wanda’s worry about her sister getting hurt. She sends him a small smile.

Finding Y/n and bringing her in sounded much easier than it ended up being. Wanda had been right, advanced healing wasn’t the only ability she possessed. 

“Hey, guys,” Natasha breathes, through the coms. It had taken a few month to figure out how to find Y/n and now the team is trying to fight her in the middle of the woods. Trying. “You sense something familiar in her abilities?”

Once Natasha had asked the question, everything clicked. Hydra had found a way to replicate any ability the Avenger’s had and give it to Y/n. She had Thor’s lightening, Clint’s wicked accuracy, Natasha’s skill in combat, Bucky and Steve’s strength, Wanda’s magic, and even Pietro’s speed. None of them knew if she had the ability to turn into a Hulk and honestly didn’t want to find out. They had enough to deal with without having to add the Hulk to the equation.

“How are we going to stop her?” Clint groans, slowly pushing himself back on his feet. “She’s going to tear us apart one by one if we don’t figure something out,” He comments looking around for a silver streak.

“Steve,” Bucky mutters, standing back to back with his partner. “Maybe we could get through to her,”

“We don’t know if we’re right,” Steve replies.

“We’re right,” Bucky states, confidently.

“Even if we are we can’t get close enough to touch her,” Steve mentions, his head snapping to the side as Tony falls out of the sky and to the ground. Luckily it wasn’t a far fall. By the time Steve and Bucky got to him, Y/n was nowhere in sight.

“I know this chick is Wanda’s sister but I really don’t like her,” Tony groans as F.R.I.D.A.Y. gives him a run down on everything that’s damaged with his suit.

“I got an idea,” Bucky says, sharing a look with Steve.

“Whatever it is, hurry up,” Natasha whines, after being throne violently into Clint. “She’s play with us right now, sooner or later she’s going to go in for the kill,”

“Wanda, what’s your location?” Bucky asks.

“Half a mile to your right,” Wanda responds. Bucky spots her.

“Can you stop her?” Bucky asks. “Hold her in place long enough for Steve and I to get to her?”

“It will not be easy,” Wanda warns.

“Can you do it?” Steve snips, a bit. Wanda looks conflicted but slowly nods. “Then do it,” He orders.

“We have to get her to Wanda,” Bucky says.

“We’ll start luring her to her,” Clint grumbles, nocking another arrow. Within a couple of minutes, Y/n speeds past Wanda before forced to stop. Wanda grinds her teeth as she holds Y/n in place.

“I can’t hold her for long,” Wanda warns frantically. Bucky and Steve both race towards her. When they’re close enough, each of them grabs a wrist. A tingling feels waves through both of their bodies as their souls recognize their mate.

The sensation of Bucky and Steve initiating the bond with her along with the extensive use of her abilities causes Y/n to pass out in Bucky’s arms. The super soldier easily scoops her into his arms and holds her close.

“Couldn’t have done that earlier?” Clint breathes, pressing his hand against his side.

“Let’s get back to the jet,” Steve orders.

“We just going to ignore the fact that she’s your mate?” Tony asks.

“Not now,” Bucky barks. Tony raises his hands and follows them onto the jet.

“Bruce will be waiting to check on her,” Natasha tells them. The two soldiers nod before taking a seat. Bucky refuses to let her go and places her feet on Steve’s lap.

“I thought she was dead,” Wanda whispers, staring at her sister. “Yet all this time she’s been through god knows what with Hydra,”

“Well, she’s here now,” Steve tries to comfort her. “She’s safe,” Bucky rests his head atop of her head. He buries the anger he feels towards Hydra at what they’ve done to her. “She’s safe,” Steve repeats, this time staring at his boyfriend. Bucky gives him a small smile.

When they landed Bruce took her to medical and checked on her. He took blood samples and scanned her body. The entire time Wanda, Steve and Bucky hovered.

Bruce tried to explain what was going on with her cells but they didn’t exactly understand what he was saying. All that mattered is that she’s safe and healthy.

It took an additional two days before she finally began to wake up. At this point only Steve and Bucky sat by her bed. Wanda had gone off to get them food.

Almost immediately Y/n began to panic not recognizing her surroundings. Steve and Bucky quickly calmed her down with a simple touch and soft words. While it helped calm her movement it was obvious she was still on high alert.

Now that she’s awake, Bruce was able to do more tests. However, the moment he entered Y/n reacted protectively of not only herself but of her mates. Her powers lashed out and successfully knocked the doctor out before Steve and Bucky were able to explain that Bruce just wanted to help and that he wasn’t going to hurt any of them.

When Bruce woke up, Y/n was still weary of him but didn’t attack again. She trusted her mates and only relaxed when the tests were done and he left. 

“Where are we?” She whispers.

“New York,” Steve explains. “The Avenger’s tower,” She winces at the word ‘Avenger’.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky asks, hesitantly. She doesn’t answer for a few minutes.

“They wanted a weapon to defeat the Avengers,” She explains. “Someone strong enough to kill all of you,”

“You could have easily completed that mission, why didn’t you?” Steve asks. Y/n glances at him. The conflict is clear in her eyes.

“I don’t like killing,” She whispers. “I try to stop myself but I can’t do it all the time,” Bucky instantly picks up on the fact that Hydra had instilled the same compliance protocol in her as they had him. “When they sent me to kill you all, I tried to hold back. Give you a chance to... stop me,” Bucky grips her head knowing that ‘stop’ isn’t the word she had wanted to use.

“You’re strong,” Bucky tells her. She glances to him. “Not everyone can fight the control Hydra has. I couldn’t,” She frowns her eyebrows. Bucky shares a look with Steve before explaining his story to her. Steve chimed in here or there as well as going off on his own tangents with his own background stories.

At some point while talking, the three of them moved to Bucky and Steve’s floor within the tower to be more comfortable. The both of them knew the rest of the Avengers are hesitant to have her around, not knowing if she’s in control of herself or not. They all know that if her mind were to switch again and she tries to kill them, they’d be very lucky if they could stop her.

For almost a month, Y/n stayed on their floor. Bucky and Steve stayed with her, only venturing out if they needed something like food or clothes for Y/n. Throughout the month they learned about each other. Bucky and Steve were very open with her while she was more reserved with the details of her life.

What she did decide to explain were watered down stories of what happened to her in Hydra. She didn’t want to tell them all the gory details. 

She didn’t want to tell them that Hydra had tested how well her healing ability was by putting her through a meat grinder and watched her body slowly, and extremely painfully, put herself back together.

She didn’t tell them how they would electrocute her body for hours on end with no break in order to test how strong her abilities mimicking Thor were. Nor did she tell them about the grueling sparing matches that would have killed her should she have been a normal human.

Bucky had questioned her if they had tried to wipe her memories. She had to think for a moment before answering.

“They tried,” She remembers. “Multiple times but my mind would heal and bounce back too quick. It wouldn’t work. They had to find a way to get me to stop thinking about the past, to give up the little hope I clung too... They did it through the pain. They broke me to the point where all I would think about was how to live to the next day instead of reminiscing how I lived in the past,”

The anger Steve and Bucky felt whenever she explained anything about Hydra could not be measured. How they kept themselves from destroying the room is a mystery. Steve thought his anger towards Hydra was bad after everything that happened with the war and then with Bucky. But now it was amplifying as Y/n explains her story.

“I know I had a past... It’s just hard to think past the last few years,” She whispers.

“It’ll come to you,” Bucky promises, kissing the side of her head. She instinctively curls into his lap and he holds her to his chest. “The good memories will come, I promise,”

“What if I don’t have any?” She whispers, her eyes misting over.

“Then we’ll make some,” Steve tells her. He wraps both Bucky and Y/n in his arms. “We’ll make so many good memories you won’t think to remember the bad ones,” Y/n smiles, snuggling deeper in Bucky’s embrace.

It wasn’t until after several evaluations through Bruce, did Y/n leave the floor that had become her home. She started spending more time around the other’s but not without at least one of her mates right next to her.

There is one Avenger that seemed to be avoiding her.

“Do you mind if I come in?” Y/n asks, lightly knocking on Wanda’s door. At this point Y/n has been within the Avenger’s tower for about four months. She was slowly adjusting but it was happening.

“I shall give you two some privacy,” Vision states, standing from the bed he had been laying on with Wanda. Y/n gives him a polite smile and moves to give him room to walk out the door.

“You look better,” Wanda comments, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“I doubt I could have looked any worse than when you found me,” Y/n jokes. Wanda smiles a bit before patting the spot beside her. “You look so beautiful,” She whispers. “A little older than when I last saw you,” Wanda smiles, her head hanging a bit. “I’m sorry,” Wanda’s head snaps towards her.

“Sorry?”

“I couldn’t keep us together,” Y/n whispers, tears brimming her eyes. “I left you in that facility... I left you and Pietro,” Y/n’s voice chokes at his name. “I left you to deal with his death alone,”

“No, no, you didn’t have a choice,” Wanda reaches to pull her into a hug and Y/n clings to her. Both of them being to cry in each other’s arms. “It’s my fault... If we weren’t so damn stubborn non of this would have happened,” Wanda laughs pitifully. Y/n hugs her sister even tighter. “We thought you were dead... If we had known-”

“I know,” She whispers, puling from the hug. They both wipe their tears.

“He missed you so much,” Wanda whispers. “We both did,”

“Well, I’m here now... And I have you to thank for that,” Wanda smiles, shrugging slightly.

“What are sister’s for?” They smile at each other and quickly go in for another hug, this time neither of them pulling away for some time.

While mending her relationship with her sister was a large step in the right direction, Y/n still had a long journey a head of her. It wasn’t until 7 months in the Avenger’s facility did she realize that she’s not the only one trying to heal from her past.

In the beginning, when Y/n was cleared to leave medical, she had been offered her own space. Her fear of being left along meant that her own room was being used as a large closet while she spent her nights safely tucked between two large super soldiers. 

Usually, her whimpers and moving around is what wakes the other two up. However, tonight it’s not her nightmares that are causing problems.

“Bucky?” Y/n groans, slowly waking from her sleep. A moment later Bucky’s body is shooting up and his chest is heaving violently. “Bucky, baby?” Y/n sits up, shoving Steve’s arm off of her. “Honey, look at me,” She whispers, gently caressing his chin. His body tenses as he involuntarily flinches from her. “It’s ok... It’s alright,” She whispers, not forcing him to look at her but encouraging him.

“Hi,” He whispers, sweat dripping down his forehead. She sends him a calm, comforting smile as she wipes the drops away.

“Hey,” She whispers back. “It’s ok... They’re just nightmares... I won’t let them hurt you,” She promises. Bucky stares at her before pushing their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” He mutters.

“Don’t,” She shakes her head, bumping their noses together. “I’ve woken you both up countless times, it’s nice to help you for a change,” Bucky smiles, slithering an arm around her waist. He hauls her on top of him as he lays back down. She props her head up and gently rubs his chest. “Do you want to talk?”

“No... Just wanna look at ya, doll,” He whispers, his hands gently gliding up and down her sides. She smiles, her head nuzzling into his neck as his hands slip under her shirt to caress her skin. It’s only a couple of minutes before Steve is rolling closer in his sleep, his need to be as close as possible to them shinning through even while in dreamland. 

“We’re going to be ok, Buck,” She whispers to him. His arms tighten around her.

“That’s right, baby doll,” Bucky mutters, kissing her head. “We’re going to be just fine,”

[datleggy]

Buddie prompt: aggressively pro-buddie Helena and Ramon Diaz, who are ecstatic when Eddie tells them he's dating, and then utterly befuddled when he introduces Ana. But they decide to bite their tongues about it (Buck, their future son in law, has talked to them about respecting Eddie's decisions, however dumb, after all), until Ana (unwittingly? Innocently? No matter) makes a comment about Buck, and then all bets are off.

Hope this inspires you!

Helena is so relieved that Eddie finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them, that she could cry. She feels awful that it took her so long to realize it. 

It had been on Eddie’s last visit to Texas, when he and his crew had been fighting wildfires, that Ramon--her dense as can be when it comes to matters of the heart husband of all people--had noticed that their son was in love. 

Helena still remembers saying goodbye to her son and his two teammates, remembers Ramon closing the door, waiting exactly all of five seconds before turning to her and saying, “I’m happy for him. He’s so stubborn, I didn’t know if he’d ever let himself get that close to someone again.” 

And Helena had been confused at first, and then even chuckled when Ramon had explained calmly that clearly their son was dating his coworker Buck, until she’d stopped to really give it a moment’s thought. It had hit her all at once, how obvious those two were, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since they’d started dating and why Eddie hadn’t said anything yet. 

She’s seen the photos on Instagram, Helena thinks, as their plane lands. Buck smiling next to her grandbaby after helping her son build him a skateboard he could safely ride in the park. Buck standing shoulder to shoulder with Eddie behind Tia and Christopher in that Christmas photo at the station. The selfie Eddie posted of him and Buck with the giant cast still on his leg the day of the ceremony for when he was no longer a probationary firefighter with the 118. 

Really, she should’ve figured it out months ago. 

When Eddie had called and told her he’d started dating again and that the next time they came to visit he’d make an introduction Helena had been thrilled! 

Ramon drives them from the airport to their son’s place in their rental and Helena rambles on about how she hopes Buck isn’t too nervous to see them again, now that the cat’s out of the bag. 

When they arrive Eddie greets them at the door with a big hug and ushers his parents inside and Helena is so ready to step into the living room and welcome Buck into the family with open arms, to show her son that there was nothing to be afraid of, that they love him and nothing in the world would change that--

Only to be met with....not Buck? 

“Oh,” Helena stops dead in her tracks and Ramon stands beside her looking about as confused as she feels. “Hello.” she smiles politely enough. 

The woman sitting next to Christopher on the couch stands up and she’s absolutely stunning, her curls bouncing on her shoulders when she stands up to exchange hello’s. “It’s so nice to meet you both. My name is Ana.” 

The rest of the afternoon goes by just fine, but Eddie can tell something is amiss the entire time, though he does a good job of hiding it from Ana, who’s her usual charming self through out lunch. 

She has to take a work call at some point and excuses herself to another room and that’s when Eddie turns to his parents and half-whispers. “Ok, I know those looks. What’s wrong?” 

Helena shakes her head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, what is it? Ana is perfect. She’s incredibly smart, she’s funny, she’s got a great job, good head on her shoulders, and Christopher loves her--so again, I ask, what’s wrong?” 

Ramon follows his wife’s lead. “Mijo, really, it’s nothing. She’s great. We’re happy for you. I think we’re just a little tired from the flight, that’s all.” 

Eddie narrows his eyes slightly but decides there isn’t much sleuthing that can be done at the moment, so all he can do is take them at their word for now. “Fine, if you say so.” 

They’re in the middle of watching Nemo when Buck's name comes up.

"When the tsunami happened Buck and I sang 'just keep swimming' like Dory." Christopher grins up at his dad and Eddie ruffles the curls on his head playfully. It helps Christopher to be able to openly talk about what he went through that day, the good and the bad.

"You never told me Buck was there that day." Ana comments off handedly.

Eddie nods, "Huh, I thought I mentioned it? Buck took him to the pier that morning."

"It was scary but Buck saved me." Christopher tells his grandma, who reaches across the couch to squeeze his arm. Helena had been horrified to hear what had happened at the time; it still gives her anxiety just thinking about it.

"That's right." She says softly.

"I thought some woman you didn't know carried him to one of the tents, and that's how you two were reunited, no?" Ana asks.

"Yeah, but before that, during the initial impact Buck was with Christopher, he managed to get him up to this firetruck in the middle of everything. It was after he dove back into the water to save someone that a second wave came and swept Christopher right off and they got separated from there." Eddie recalls solemnly.

There had been blood running down the dirty wet bandage on his arm, he'd been soaked to the bone, exhausted and barely standing upright. It wasn't until Christopher had been found that Buck had allowed himself to collapse.

"Oh..." Ana frowns.

Ramon puts a hand over his heart and sighs. "It's a miracle, really."

Ana doesn't mean to say it outloud, but the words comes tumbling out of her mouth without warning. "And you're still friends with him?"

Eddie blinks. "What?"

"I'm sorry, really, it's just--I don't understand." Ana rubs her shoulder self consciously, fully aware of the fact that everyone is looking at her. "Look, Edmundo, you nearly bit my head off when Christopher got a skinned knee under my watch but you're still best friends with the man who lost your son for God only knows how long? It doesn't make any sense to me."

Ana knows how overprotective Eddie is of his son, and in fact, that's one of the reasons she likes him so much; she admires that about him and this? It doesn't track with the man she knows.

Helena wants to open her mouth and she say something in defense of Buck--he's a good man, after all. But she knows better than to get between a couple in an argument, especially given how bias she is towards her future son in law...

Instead, she clears her throat and looks at Christopher, "Honey, how about you help me and Grandpa unpack? I bought a lot of fun things from Texas for you."

Christopher doesn't want to go. His Dad looks upset. Ana looks upset. He wants to stay and help. If Ana met Buck she would understand, Christopher's sure of it. But his grandparents are already leading him down the hall and to the guest room.

Christopher hangs out with his grandparents for a few minutes before fibbing and telling them he needs to use the bathroom. They both offer to help him but he insists that he can do it himself, promising to call out if he needs them.

He sneaks the home phone into the bathroom with him and dials a number he knows by heart at this point. He waits a couple of rings before the call connects.

"Hey, what's up?" Buck's voice comes through the other end. He sounds distracted.

"Bucky? Can you come get me?" He whispers into the phone.

He hears a small commotion and then a stifled 'ow!' and then: "Chris? Are you ok? You're home, right? What's wrong? Where's Eddie?"

"I'm home. I'm ok. But--" there's a knock on the door and it startles Christopher into accidentally hanging up the phone before he can explain the situation in it's entirety.

"It was a tsunami." Eddie sighs, "It wouldn't be fair to hold something like that over his head. And look, you weren't there. You didn't see the look on his face, you don't know how many hours he spent crying out Christopher's name at the top of his lungs, injured and looking nonstop through the rubble for him--"

"Yeah, which he wouldn't have had to do if he hadn't lost him in the first place. It sounds like he was too busy playing hero for strangers to watch your son." Ana folds her arms across her chest. "I don't want to fight. Especially not with your parents here. Honestly, I'm just confused? We don't have to talk about this right now. I can go. I just want to apologize to your parents and Christopher first, before I leave, for," she sighs, embarrassed, "well, for causing a scene. This is not the way I'd pictured meeting your parents."

"You know, if you just met Buck I really think you would--"

A cacophony of knocks at the door make the both of them jump. Ana looks at Eddie. "Were you expecting anyone else?"

"Christopher!? Christopher I'm here, open up!"

Eddie gapes. "...Buck?"

"Did you...call him over?" Ana didn't even see him reach for his phone.

"What? No, of course not." Eddie starts towards the door--the knocking has gotten so boisterous he's pretty sure Buck's about to break down his door--but Ana beats him to it.

At this point Eddie's parents and Christopher are in the hallway wondering what all that racket is.

Ana lets the door swing open, and if she's being entirely honest she's not sure what she's planning on saying to the man who's essentially at the center of her first real argument with her boyfriend, but whatever it was, it goes up in smoke when she takes in the sight of him.

Buck is taller than she'd pictured but that's not what's got her speechless.

He's standing at the doorway, chest heaving, clearly having rushed out of his house, where he was very obviously in the middle of shaving, if the shaving cream still smeared on a third of his face is any indication. He's in sweatpants and a white undershirt that's got little drops of blood on the front from where he must have cut himself while shaving. There's a bright red cut running down the underside of his chin.

"Um." Ana can't do much except stare, wide eyed.

Buck blinks at her, "Uh...Ana?" He suddenly realizes all the people in the house behind her are looking at him in a kind of stupor.

She nods slowly. "Buck?"

Buck nods sheepishly, "Uh... So, I am clearly interrupting something here."

"You came!" Christopher moves past all of the adults in the corridor and throws himself at Buck's legs.

Buck lifts the kid up easily enough, crutches and all, "Yeah, about that," he gently pinches his cheek, eliciting a giggle out of Christopher, "What was that phone call all about? You nearly gave me a heart attack, bud."

Eddie groans. "Christopher, did you call Buck to come all the way over here in the middle of the day?" He walks over and uses the cuff of his shirt sleeve to wipe away the rest of the shaving cream on the side of Buck's face. The look on his face is fond as he does so. "What did this little menace say to get you over here in such a rush?"

Christopher pouts. "I just told him to come get me. I thought if Miss Ana met my Bucky she'd know how come you're still best friends." He grips at Buck's t shirt tightly. "You can't stop being friends, Dad. I love Buck. He's my friend too."

Buck frowns. "Umm..."

Eddie gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's not--it's complicated. I promise to explain everything later. Right now isn't really a great time--"

Ana interrupts hesitantly. "Actually, now is probably good. I need to get home soon, it's getting pretty late, so I should get going." She turns to Helena and Ramon. "It was very nice to meet you both." She scoohches past Buck and Christopher and practically sprints to where she parked her car, aware of the fact that Eddie is calling out her name and only half a step behind her.

It's not until they're several blocks down the street that she swivels around and he nearly topples into her in his haste. "Ana, please, I don't want you to leave like this. I really didn't call him over." He reaches into his back pocket and shows her his phone. "See?"

Ana takes the phone and presses her lips together thinly. "He called you like twenty times on his way over."

Eddie frowns. His phone must have been on silent. It's no wonder Buck rushed over like he did. "He was just worried about Christopher--"

Ana sighs resignedly. "No, I know. It's obvious, how much your best friend cares about your son. I can see why he's still in your life. And I think I can also see why that means you don't really have any room for me in it..."

Eddie shakes his head. "What? Why would you say that?"

Ana looks him in the eye, intent as can be on reading him. Eddie had smiled so warmly, creating such an unintentionally intimate moment when all he'd done was swipe at the other mans face with his sleeve...

"You don't even know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"I think this is something you and Buck need to sort out yourselves. Goodbye Edmundo."

Eddie closes the door behind him as he steps inside, a little heartbroken and a lot confused.

There's noise coming from the kitchen and so Eddie follows it to the source. Ramon is telling Buck about how to sear the perfect steak by the stove while Helena and Christopher set the table.

"Is everything alright?" Helena asks, when she notices him by the entryway.

Eddie nods, lying when he says. "Yeah, all good Mom."

She gives him a knowing look but keeps her mouth shut. "Honey, take Buck here to your room, let him borrow one of your shirts. And maybe a razor?"

Buck chuckles shyly. "It's fine, really. I should probably get going too--"

Ramon shushes him. "Nonsense. Go, go, get changed and get your butt back into this kitchen. Scoot."

Eddie takes Buck by the shoulders and drags him to his room, where he finds a worn gray Henley for him. "Here."

Buck thanks him before stripping out of his white undershirt and throwing on the clean shirt.

Eddie plops himself down on his bed with a sigh. "Hey, I'm sorry about all this mess. And on your one day off, too."

Buck sits down beside him, bumping their shoulders together. "I don't really know what's going on but, are you doing ok?"

"I don't know," Eddie makes a face. "I think I got broken up with today."

Buck cringes. "Shit, I'm sorry, what happened?"

That's a good question. Eddie ponders that a moment. Ana had said it herself: she understood perfectly why Eddie didn't blame Buck for what happened during the tsunami and she had seen first hand how much Buck cares for Christopher for herself today.

So, why?

"She said that there wasn't any room for her in my life?" Eddie scratches the back of his head. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this dating stuff anymore."

"Aw, c'mon man," Buck pats him on the back. "You fall off the bike you gotta get right back on." He turns his body all the way around so that he's facing Eddie fully. "Dude, you're a catch. You're a handsome, badass firefighter, you've got the best kid, and hey--you got me." Buck grins toothily.

Eddie rolls his eyes, though he can't help but smile. "So what I'm hearing here is that I'm stuck with you?"

"Oh yeah, for sure." Buck laughs.

Eddie leans back on his arms and looks up at his best friend, pensive. "Promise?"

Buck extends his pinky and wiggles it in front of Eddie, who smiles as he wraps his pinky around Buck's. "Promise."

.

[hualianff]

More Than This

Modern AU where famous actor HC and landscaper XL meet through a dating app. HC had a reputation of being a massive flirt who bedded people left and right, which wasn’t completely wrong–just blown out of proportion. His partners were usually other celebrities who mutually swore to keep their mouths shut in the preservation of their own images.

When HC received a message on the dating app asking about the brand of the wristwatch he wore in his profile pic (which only showcased his hands), the other user hoping to purchase a cheaper, similar style for his friend’s birthday, HC responded for the first time since downloading the app.

What could he say? The other man was gorgeous and if he were simply asking just to slide into HC’s DMs, the actor wasn’t opposed.

Turns out XL asked out of genuine curiosity. FX’s birthday was still a month away. Why XL thought about gifting him a watch similar to the one the stranger wore when XL should’ve been paying attention to the sheer strength those large hands seemed to possess was beyond him.

The name in the bio read: San Lang. The few pictures that were displayed on his profile were minimalistic yet downright sexy. XL blinked in wonder as he typed out another message, hoping to continue the conversation.

Two weeks after chatting back and forth through the app, XL asked if he could meet HC in person. The actor pondered this for a grand total of thirty seconds before agreeing to meet. XL seemed like a sincere character, someone who put other peoples’ comfort above any task at hand–if his emoticon overkill and frequent check-ins with HC were anything to go by.

HC figured he’d cross the bridge once XL recognized him as a well-loved actor starring in the hottest films in the media.

Except when HC arrived in his expensive jeep that screamed wealth, dressed in appropriate clothes for a hike with a baseball cap concealing his features from far away, XL did not have an aha! moment.

“Hello, San Lang! It’s me, Xie Lian,” XL waved as he bounced his way over. “I hope the ride up the mountain wasn’t too scary. You get used to it once you begin visiting more often. Thank you for meeting with me today.”

“It’s no problem at all. Nice to meet you, Xie Lian,” HC greets, guiding them away from his car as soon as he locks the doors, not wanting to draw any onlookers’ attention.

XL gives him a kind smile, adjusting the clasp of his bamboo hat. He explains that there are three main trails and he was thinking they could take the medium-level route. Judging from his white work-out T, jean shorts, and hiking boots, HC deduces that XL spends much time outside, even when he’s not gardening for his clients.

“Lead the way, Gege,” HC says, the title naturally falling from his lips. In XL’s dating profile, his age read thirty-two, just under three years older than HC. (This was followed by a dozen tree, flower, and water emoticons.)

“Okay! Onwards.”

Following their initial meeting, HC met up with XL numerous times after, attracted to XL’s mellow and eccentric personality. Whenever it was XL’s turn to plan their time together, he brought HC to different places each time. National parks, plant nurseries, museums–places that could be considered unconventional compared to the standard meetups from dating apps.

HC’s fondness for XL only grew because of this.

Their chemistry flourished in the bedroom as well, both HC and XL eager for giving and receiving pleasure. In addition to being fuckbuddies, they quickly developed a wholesome friendship that HC never saw coming.

But then again, this was XL. Once HC got a taste, his infatuation with the landscaper shouldn’t be surprising. HC stopped seeing his other speed dials after he met XL.

One of their nights ended by watching a film, XL mentioning off-handedly how he doesn't keep up with pop culture–including popular films–but his friend SQX had begged XL to watch this one. Of course, this had to be a film HC was in, one of his most recent projects. There was no avoiding the impending reveal.

They sit side-by-side on XL’s lumpy couch, watching the movie when XL gasps as the antagonist comes into view.

That is his San Lang! On the screen!

When XL pokes HC on the bicep, asking why the actor hadn’t told him, HC simply says that “My fame isn’t important to who I am.”

To HC’s surprise, XL accepts the answer without protest, nodding.

“San Lang is San Lang, who happens to be a marvelous actor,” XL solemnly says, flashing HC a delighted smile. HC hums in content, subtly repositioning his arm so it rested on the back of the couch, curling around XL’s shoulders.

Except after the movie ended and a google search later, XL finds out that San Lang isn’t San Lang after all.

“Should I call you Hua Cheng from now on? Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’ve been calling you the wrong name for three months now-” XL rushes out, guilt painted across his face.

“Gege, it’s fine. I used it as an alias for my profile to protect my identity,” HC explains. He reaches forward to tuck a long strand of XL’s hair behind his ear. “Besides, I quite like it when you call me San Lang.”

“Really?” XL sheepishly asks.

“Really.”

From that moment on, HC and XL clicked perfectly, learning more about each other when time permitted them to meet up. XL felt a little foolish for not knowing who HC was as a celebrity. But like HC said, his fame did not define him as a person, which XL clearly saw from the playful way he held himself when there were no cameras around.

HC matched XL’s enthusiasm in whatever activity they were doing, even if it was something XL’s previous partners couldn’t care less about. Eight months into their arrangement, XL finally admitted to himself that he had deep feelings for HC.

While they had great chemistry as friends, XL selfishly wanted more.

But how could XL ask for something more? They already agreed to keep things casual, to remain as friends who used each other to release their sexual urges. It didn’t matter how delicate HC cleaned XL up or always ran him a bath after their climaxes. It didn’t matter how HC always set out his clothes for XL to stay the night. And it didn’t matter how close HC held onto him as they slept.

XL was simply a landscaper with a passion for nature and helping others. He wasn’t built for the limelight. He was barely in the loop with societal trends, and only recently began watching the latest movies with HC–many of which HC himself acted in.

Frankly speaking, HC could have anyone he wanted. XL was the one who should be grateful HC even sought him out a second time.

XL is thirty-three now. He wanted to find someone to settle down with, to spend the rest of his life with, falling deeper in love with every single day. He was not sure HC, who was just entering his thirties and continuing to make a name for himself, would want something like that with someone like XL.

Even when every one of HC’s actions alluded that he truly cared for XL, XL had learned that hope was a dangerous thing to mindlessly cling to. XL has had past partners come into his life, then leave him like he was nothing, like none of him was worth staying for. XL didn’t think he could bear it if HC became just another name on that list.

Furthermore, XL didn’t want to put HC or his career on spot, nor put his heart in a position where it was bound to be broken.

As XL grappled with his perceived one-sided feelings, HC only allowed himself to yearn when laying on the bed in his penthouse. It was much larger than XL’s bed. It was also much lonelier.

HC was unable to grant XL the verbal confirmation of where they stood, held back by the weight of his status, which had always been his selling point alongside his hypersexualized image. Not only did HC not want to risk pressuring XL into pursuing a relationship with a celebrity, but somewhere deep inside, HC didn’t believe XL could want him for who he is–even after the year and a half they’ve known each other.

Much of HC’s self-worth had come from his accomplishments as an actor, untouchable yet fantasized by the public. Peeling back all the layers he hid behind, HC saw his true self as too ugly, damaged, and undesirable; phrases many people in his past have spat to his face, including his parents.

In HC’s mind, he had already tied XL down to their routine no-strings-attached meet-ups. While HC savored every moment he spent with XL, he didn’t want to further intrude on XL’s simple life and have the other man resent him in the end.

《II》

(Thanks to @no-one-says-hi for helping)

[elianamarie-blog]

could you maybe do an eric forman x reader where they go to a halloween party and the reader dresses up as Leia from star wars and eric absolutely m e l t s it can be spicy or fluffy or both lol i’m deprived of eric content

 I’ll be so happy to do that for you! :)

Eric x Reader

October 24, 1977

Point Place, Wisconsin

Eric Forman’s Basement

“What’s everybody doing for Halloween?” Donna asked as she sat down next to Eric and Kelso.

“Oh, probably going to eat a lot of candy and cry myself to sleep,” Eric commented. “Being alone on this holiday isn’t fun.”

Y/n was sitting in the lawn chair adjacent from him and set down the magazine she was reading on her lap. “What do you mean? It’s not like it’s Christmas,” she laughed.

“Yeah, but with Halloween, girls can dress up as slu-aaaa--” Eric stammered while staring at an amused y/n.

“Like what, Eric?” Y/n asked, a smile playing on her lips.

“Uh,” Eric stuttered once more and cleared his throat. “Like, uh, slugs. Girls can dress up like slugs.”

“Nice save,” Hyde chuckled. 

“Yeah, but Halloween is better,” Fez piped up. “You get all kinds of free candy.”

“Well, Fez, people get candy on Christmas too,” Jackie mentioned and sat on Kelso’s lap.

“Yeah, but my host parents don’t allow me to eat as much candy on Christmas and since they don’t celebrate Halloween, I have to hide it from them,” Fez replied sourly. 

“Well, that’s sad,” Y/n said. 

“You know what’s sad?” Hyde asked, sitting from his usual spot with his feet up on the table and arms crossed. “Halloween is on a Monday this year, so we can’t do anything.”

“Well, we can still have it the weekend of,” Donna suggested. “Like, this weekend?”

Everyone looked at each other,

“Yeah, that sounds good,” they all agreed.

“Saturday night, here in the basement?” Eric asked, looking at everyone for approval.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good,” everyone agreed, except for y/n.

“Y/n?” Eric asked, causing y/n’s heart to jump in her chest. “You coming?”

Y/n’s brain jumbled for a minute with Eric’s doe eyes staring at her. “Y-yeah,” she stuttered. “I’ll be there.”

“Great!” he exclaimed. “Saturday night it is!”

“Yayyyy,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she turned her attention back to the magazine.

                                              --Time Skip--

Later that week at the Halloween store, y/n, Jackie, and Donna were shopping around for their costumes.

“What are you guys wanting to go as?” Jackie asked as she picked up a French maid costume. “I think I’m going to go as this and Michael will be my lord.”

Y/n and Donna snickered. 

“What?” Jackie asked innocently. 

“I think Kelso might expecting a little bit more than a house cleaning,” Y/n giggled and laughed when she saw Jackie’s face blush a deep crimson.

“What are you going as, Donna?” Jackie asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“I don’t know,” she answered absent-mindedly. “Casey is going to be there, so I have to look foxy.”

“You’re still going out with him?” Y/n asked, not hiding her judgment. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with him.”

“I know, but he’s so dreamy,” Donna responded with a smile and pulled a sexy devil costume out. 

“That would look good on you,” Y/n commented. 

“Thanks, I might go as this,” she said off handedly and looked at y/n. “What about you? What’re you going as?”

“I don’t know,” she responded and pulled out a sexy nurse costume. “I don’t see anything that sticks out to me.”

“Maybe you should get that one costume we talked about,” Jackie said with a suggestive smile.

“No,” Y/n said quickly with wide eyes and shook her head. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“What? What isn’t going to happen?” Donna asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” Y/n said and walked away.

“Oh, c’mon, y/n. We’re best friends. You can tell me anything,” Donna badgered. 

“No, really, it’s nothing.”

“I think we should tell her,” Jackie agreed. “She was bound to find out sooner or later.”

“No, I’d rather not do this right now,” Y/n begged. “Please, please drop it.”

“Okay, now I need to know!” Donna said with a wide smile.

“C’mon, y/n, just tell her. It’s not like it’s a big deal anymore,” Jackie said.

“It kind of is,” Y/n said quietly. 

“What is?!” Donna almost shouted, causing some people to turn to look at them.

Y/n looked around her for a minute, contemplating saying anything before finally throwing in the towel. “Okay, fine. But, before I do, please promise me you won’t get mad at me.”

Donna knitted her eyebrows together. “Why would I be mad at you?”

A nervous noise came out of y/n as she wrung her hands together before nervously looking at Jackie who signaled for her to continue. “Well, um...okay, it’s uh--” she looked over to Donna who was staring at her with wide and curious eyes, “Okay, here’s the thing--”

“Oh, for the love of God just spit it out!” Donna said impatiently. 

“Okay,” Y/n said, starting to sway a little. “It’s, uh, Princess Leia.”

Donna giggled. “You were nervous about telling me you’re going to go as Princess Leia?”

“Well...yeah.”

This time Donna laughed. “That’s funny because Eric would really love--” she gasped. “Oh my God. You like Eric?!”

Y/n made a face as she just stepped on a bug and heard a nasty crunch. “Yeah.”

“For how long?” Donna asked, all humor gone.

Y/n sighed and rubbed her forehead. She wanted to run out as fast as the flash out the door. “Not very long,” she admitted. 

“When you mean not long, do you mean after me and Eric broke up?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?”

“Sort of as in yes,” Y/n answered quickly and nervously. 

“What--? How--?” 

“Well, after you two broke up, Eric really needed someone to talk to and I was the only one that would listen without getting annoyed,” Y/m defended. “And during that time, he was vulnerable and just really sweet and it made me look at him in a whole new light.”

Donna was quiet for a moment making both Jackie and y/n nervous. 

“I’m really sorry, Donna,” Y/n said. “I didn’t mean it for it to happen. It’s just that--”

Donna giggled making y/n to stop talking and stare at her in confusion. “Y/n, it’s okay.”

“Wait, really?” Y/n and Jackie asked in unison.

“Yeah,” Donna answered. “We broke up months ago and I’m dating Casey now. And the fact that you hesitated to do anything really means a lot to me. You’re a great friend.”

“Oh, thank you,” Y/n said, sighing in relief.

“And if you want to pursue anything with him, you have my blessing,” Donna said.

“Wow, Donna. Thank you,” she replied and gave her a hug. “You’re the best.”

“It’s no problem. Besides, now you’re the one has to deal with all the Star Wars references,” Donna sang-song as she walked passed y/n to go buy her costume.

                                      --Time Skip--

The party’s music was blaring from the Forman’s basement that night. Kitty and Red had gone over to the Pinciotti’s house for their Halloween--much against Red’s will. A lot of people showed up, making the basement loud. Donna went as a sexy devil, Jackie went as a sexy French maid, Kelso was dressed up in robe playing lord of the manor, Fez as Frank N. Furter from Rocky Horror Picture Show...again, and Hyde didn’t dress up, because, well it’s Hyde. Casey surprised everyone by actually showing up and could barley keep his hands off of Donna. And Eric, of course, dressed up as Luke Skywalker. 

Donna and Casey sat in the lawn chair, her in his lap while he whispered sweet nothings. Jackie and Kelso hung around the washer and dryer machine with Hyde, drinking beers and talking. Eric was hanging around with Fez, a Darth Vader, and a Tinker Bell. Eric was trying not to look at Fez’s pale legs while geeking out with Darth Vader and Tinker Bell. The only person missing was y/n.

“So, when Luke Skywalker blew up the Death Star--” he continued his story, but stopped when Hyde clapped a hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“Hey, man, you’re girlfriend is here,” he joked.

“What? I don’t have a girlfriend,” Eric said confused.

Hyde pointed to the door. Eric’s gaze followed to where he was pointing and could feel his heart stop for a moment. Y/n was standing at the door dressed as Princess Leia. If he was being honest with himself, she looked stunning. He never knew someone could look more beautiful than she did right now. He had always thought she was attractive, but he was always in love with Donna, but ever since they broke up, he found himself liking her more than just a friend. Even though y/n wasn’t as big of a fan of Star Wars herself, he still loved that he was able to be himself and geek out with her and not feel judged by it.

She made eye contact with him and made her way over to him.

“Hey!” she greeted cheerfully. “We match!”

“Uhhhh...y-yeah,” he stuttered. “You, uh, you-you look great.”

Y/n curtsied making Eric chuckle. “Thank you, Mr. Skywalker. You look great yourself.”

Tinker Bell had gotten bored and walked off while Fez and Darth Vader stayed to ogle at y/n.

“Hey, so what cha doing later?” Darth Vader asked.

Y/n looked around the party with a mild confused look. “Uh, this?”

Darth Vader chuckled. “I meant after the party.”

“Going home,” she stated.

Darth Vader nodded his head. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” she said, grateful that he wasn’t going to push her. He walked off, leaving the three of them.

“And I’m going to go find a drunk girl,” Fez said and sauntered off.

Eric and y/n stood alone; Y/n’s heart beating out of her chest. “So, nice party. A lot more people showed up than I thought.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eric replied, a smile growing on his cute face. “Thanks for coming.”

“Oh, you know I wouldn’t miss it.”

Eric couldn’t stop himself for staring at y/n from head to toe. “You really do look great tonight though.”

She smiled shyly at him. “Thank you.”

“Hey, Forman!” Hyde called from nearby the washer and dryer. “Keg is here. Help me do a keg stand.”

Eric pointed his thumbs over his shoulder. “Duty calls.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied nodding her head. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“Hey, I’ll catch you later?”

Y/n nodded. “Okay.”

She watched him walk off and hold Hyde by the ankles as he drank straight from the tap. Y/n chuckled to herself as she turned to the shower and grabbed a beer. She popped it open and went over to Donna and Jackie to talk to them.

“Wow, look at you,” Jackie gushed. “Looking sexy.”

“Awe, thanks Jackie,” she said, blushing.

“I saw that you caught the attention of someone,” Donna said seductively and subtly glanced over at Eric who was too into making sure Hyde didn’t fall on his face to notice y/n sitting on the couch. She had purposely had her dress hiked up to expose her right thigh, but still covering to be decent.

Eric wanted to look but he couldn’t take the chance of being distracted. 

“Okay, Forman, your turn,” Hyde slurred as he was lowered down.

“Wait! I have something better,” Kelso called out and brought out a funnel and a tube. “Gotta do this right.”

“Hell yeah!” Hyde whooped and connected the tube to the funnel.

Eric got down on one knee and put the tube to his mouth as Hyde started quickly filling up the funnel with cans of beer.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” everyone at the party chanted as Eric successfully drained four cans of beer. 

Eric stumbled back up and burped as he swayed a little. “I’m going to feel that buzz here in a minute.”

Y/n laughed as she watched the guy she liked come over and sit beside her. “What cha talkin’ about good lookin’?”

Y/n squinted her eyes at him while chuckling. “How drunk are you right now?”

“It’s more of a buzz going on,” he confessed. “But this confidence is real.” He clicked his tongue and pointed at himself.

“Hey, y/n, you wanna give this a go?” Hyde asked.

“Yes, do a keg stand!” Kelso shouted.

“No,” Y/n said quickly and firmly. “I’m not giving you another reason to look up my dress.”

“Kill joy!” Kelso shouted, now in a drunken stupor. 

“I will drink from the tube though,” she said to Hyde who nodded in approval.

As she walked over to Hyde, grabbed the tube, and got on her knees, Hyde nodded approvingly. “Oh, yeah. Get on them knees.”

“Shut up, you idiot and just start,” Y/n said.

“That’s what she said too!” Hyde threw his head back laughing.

“Just give me the beer!” she shouted, laughing at her friend’s stupidity.

“Alright, alright, alright, calm down,” he responded and started pouring the beer down the funnel.

The fizz of the beer burned as it quickly went down her throat. The fizz was going into her nose causing her eyes to water, but she refused to stop. As everyone chanted around her to keep going, she forced herself to focus on ingesting the beer instead of Eric, who was watching her intently. 

Hyde ended up pouring three beers in the funnel before she brought the tube up, careful not to spill. Everyone cheered and she got off the floor, her knees cracking from sitting on the concrete floor. 

“Damn, color me impressed,” Hyde said. “I thought you’d only be able to do one.”

“Please, I’ve been drinking with you morons for the past year and a half. I have a higher tolerance now.”

Hyde grinned, “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” y/n said and suddenly felt her skin heat up. “I’ll be right back.”

She walked out the basement and up the stairs, feeling that autumn breeze cool down her burning skin. She breathed in the cool evening air and sat on the porch. She leaned her head back and listened to the wind rattling the trees and crunchy leaves fly their way down the driveway.

She sat there like that for a minute or two before a voice caused her to snap her eyes open.

“Hey, you alright?”

Eric sat down next to her as she lazily turned her head to look at him. She could feel the alcohol starting to slush around her head, but it was a good buzz. “Yeah, ‘m fine,” she responded and looked back up at the night’s sky. “Just getting a breather. Started getting hot in there.”

“Yeah, when you’ve had a few beers and have a lot people around you, the air tends to heat up quick,” he commented.

Y/n hummed in response and looked back at him. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Oh, well, I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were enjoying the party.”

“Oh, me? I’m having a marvelous time.”

“Why did that sound sarcastic?” he deadpanned.

Y/n giggled. “It’s not. I really am having a great time.”

Eric gave her a single nod. “Good.” His wrung his hands as he struggled to find the right words. Y/n had her eyes closed again, so she didn’t notice his nervousness. “You really do look good tonight.”

Y/n opened her eyes once more and looked at him. “Thank you, Eric. You look good too.”

“No, I mean, you look really beautiful.”

Y/n blushed at his words and stood up, pretending to stretch. In reality, it was a way to cover up her nerves. “Thank you, Eric. That’s really sweet.” She smiled at him as he stood up to stand in front of her. “Shall we go back in?”

“Uh, yeah, but before we do,” he began and grabbed her arm, stopping her from turning around. “Um, if you’d like to grab a burger with me--o-or, you know, catch a movie, that would be cool.”

“Oh,” Y/n asked in surprise. “Just you and me?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his nerves shining through. “If you want to of course.”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” she smiled at him.

“Okay, good. I was afraid that you were going to say no. Because I really li--”

He was cut off by her lips quickly meeting his. She wasn’t sure if it was the newfound confidence or the alcohol, or maybe even both, but she felt like the time was right.

“And you kissed me?” Eric asked, confused.

“Oh my God,” Y/n said, embarrassed. “Did I read the signs wrong? I’m so sorry. I’m so dumb. I thought you were asking me out--”

Now she was interrupted by Eric’s hand wrapping around her neck and pulling her in for a passionate kiss. She didn’t need to wait for her to completely melt into the kiss and placed her hands on either side of his face. She felt the universe line up and butterflies erupt in her stomach.

As he pulled away, he looked into her eyes. “I was.”

“Okay, so I’m not dumb,” she said lowly and chuckled to herself.

“No, not at all,” he said and captured her lips once more. “Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

She nodded and brought him in for another kiss, completely forgetting where she was for a moment until, “Alright! Get it, Eric!”

Eric and y/n broke their amorous kiss and looked to see Kelso, Hyde, Donna, Jackie, Fez, and Casey watching them.

“Hey, would you look at that. Foreplay has some moves,” Casey commented, making Donna lightly smack him in the chest.

“Bout damn time too,” Hyde said. “I was getting tired of hearing about his feelings towards y/n.”

Y/n flushed in embarrassment and hid her face in Eric’s chest.

“Uh, guys? Can we get a little privacy here?” Eric deadpanned.

“Sure, sure,” Fez said. “Hey, Eric. If you see her boobs, please describe them to me.”

Y/n and Eric looked at him with the most annoyed expression.

“Shut up, Fez!”

[mango-dolphin]

bestie

give

details

about your ocs

and that

jason prequel fic

pleeaaaaase? <3

of COURSE bestie!!! <3<3<3 thank u for enabling me. it's time to f,uckgin., Oh god i have no clue how to format this i didn't think i'd get this far

jason grace prequel fic stuff

(side note: may actually be multiple fics in a series, we'll see how wordy/invested i get)

about the it

i don't have a title for this yet (thus "Jason Grace Prequel Fic"), but essentially the goal is exploring Jason's life from before Camp Jupiter to right after the Titan War. written in first person and in Jason's perspective (usually...), i want to use the fic to develop and build Jason as a person to see just how much he lost after Juno had to spirit him away for his Gaea quest. (And, potentially, how much he may have gained afterwards.)

The Titan War is a looming threat that exists for the majority of the fic, even though they don't precisely know it's a war yet for part of it. Camp Jupiter had been facing some real rough times the past few decades apparently? I'd like to imagine that, at the point Jason joined in, these guys were buckling in and preparing for the worst.

I'd also like to explore the involvement of both the Lares and the greater city of New Rome. Where are these guys? What the fuck they doin? Pspspspspspsspspspsspp? i'd also like to explore the Roman side of the Titan army, that must be fun as FUCK considering all of the turmoil and bad feelings going around.

I will be creating illustrations and brief comic strips for this project because I'm just that unhinged. Don't talk to me (DO talk to me sorry for giving you a contradictory desire)

my wants

Jason get friends :)

exploration of Roman culture and their spirituality/religious practices/etc. I also wanna talk about how much these guys apparently loved agriculture most of their gods were dedicated to that. Gods bless (literally) they know what's important

i wanna talk about people who aged out of the legion too. Hehe.

Octavian stuff. I've already posted about my headcanon of him having shit parents & 7 other siblings, and we are gonna Get. into That.

i'm intrigued about Riordan setting up stuff about reincarnation and the Isles of the Blest. I'm gonna do something with that.

it's also been implied & off-handedly mentioned that there are mortals in the Legion and New Rome as well. also a bigger monster population! I'd like to include some perspectives of like, the implications of That!

also some headcanoned Legacy lore why the fuck not. the "photocopied until nothing special" comment that was written in Blood of Olympus about Octavian still rubs me the wrong way and i have some bones to pick (but not in the way you might expect by my tone here LOL)

forgot to put this in initially. WE ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT REYNA IN THIS FIC. reyna ilu i am so sorry i forgot to mention you in the og version of this post. You are becoming real in five seconds.

Exploration of some major Roman gods that were just. Unexplored. In HOO.

in particular i'm thinking about Janus, they gave him a funny lil sonboy that did whore things (michael varus) and i love that for him. But also holy SHIT he was confused for a minor greek god in PJO and that's! SO! FASCINATING! TO ME IN A WORLDBUILDING SENSE. like. Percy happened to ask for a Janus Cabin in camp halfblood THAT'S SO FUNNY. THAT'S SO FUNNY HE'S ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT ROMAN GODS AND HE DOES HIS FUNNY LITTLE SONG AND DANCE TO ANNABETH, SOME GREEK FREAK BRAINCHILD OF HIS IN-SOME-MYTHS GREAT-NIECE MINERVA'S COUNTERPART, IN THE LABYRINTH AND HE FUCKS OFF AND THEY DON'T EVEN GIVE HIM A GREEK CABIN IN HOO BECAUSE RIORDAN REALIZED HIS FUCKING MISTAKE I LOVE JANUS PJO SO MUCH I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT HIM WHAT IS HE DOING WHAT IS HE UP TO DOES HE KNOW THAT HE'S AMAZING

What was I talking about.

oh yeah! Jason get friends :)

origin story

this project is coming about since hyperfixation hit me hard and there's a lot about Jason's history that i'd love to see expanded and elaborated upon. i'm of the belief that not everything in a story needs to be explained: some things are better left up to interpretation, or may stand stronger without trying to explain every last detail.

however, i feel there were a lot of opportunities and connections that came and went throughout the final product of Heroes of Olympus—a lot of which that came about in order to either preserve a status quo of "protagonists right, antagonists wrong," or have their cake of systemic critique and eat it too by never changing anything fundamentally.

we also do not see much respect—or exploration, really—of the Roman perspective, which troubles me as a lot of it seemed to be sidetracked. the Greeks are deeply individualist (sole heroes, groups of up to three on quests, frequent focus on one's worth as an individual rather than strength in numbers as well as singular people's achievements rather than working as a collective army, etc); the Romans provided an alternative unity that we just. never saw, as they were condensed into one collective "bad" that didn't want to be "bad" but were being led by OOooOOoOOOne bad LeeaAAAaaAAaader I'm bitter about this to the point of being incomprehensible

i don't have a lot of coherent thoughts honestly i just. Feel it. deep within my Bones. and i wish i knew more about greek & roman history & mythology to provide a more nuanced take. but i DO obsess a lot over the human condition and the extremes that one goes through; i think New Rome is potentially an amazing setting and i'd like to find a way to explain, in-universe, how Camp Jupiter became so melancholic and hollow (and, on some extent, how Jason seems to be this way as well. We never actually received clarification on if he got all of his memories back, and considering how he felt so Nothing over Octavian... well. let's just say i came up with a weird fanfic theory for it and we will be EXPLORING it god DAMMIT)

i have realized that i may have gone on a tangent for awhile and did not even talk about my OCs for this fic

i'm tempted to like. split this answer up so that the kids i wanna talk about get their own post? i think it feels appropriate. but it also might cause me to procrastinate on tlaking about them.....................

eh. fuck it gonna make another post LOL thank u for reading this far. i don't wanna get anyone's hopes up too high idk how well i'm gonna write this fic. I just have a lot of ideas and i'm trying to sort them out in a journal, i'm typically a pantser haha

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re the one that i want (part 19)

word count: 6k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of abuse)

(part 18) (series masterlist)

“either forget about everything for good this time or be with each other again.”

the words had rung in your head for the rest of the night, plopping down on your bed without even a second look from your parents as you thought over tomorrow's inevitable discussion with seonghwa.

you can convince yourself now that you don't wanna be with him after everything he's put you through, that the summer with him isn't worth it and maybe too much has happened now to revive it.

but truth be told, it doesn't even matter what you think to yourself right now.

because the second you see him, you know everything will crack the way it always does. your composure and will to resist him when you truthfully just miss his presence. 

his real presence.

his smile and his deep chuckle and the gentle way he'd hold and tease you. the boy that you know is in there somewhere, have even seen glimpses of in the way he looks at you, which is what makes this so hard.

because then if you forgive him that easily, it’s almost gonna excuse his behavior. make him think that he can continue to hide you away and keep you as someone he loves in the shadows. that this whole time, his behavior was okay and not that big of a deal.

but at the same time, you wanna be with him. you want to hold his hand and go on dates here and just be with him the way you were months ago. fall asleep to his hand stroking your hair and have him laugh at you when your cheeks flame in embarrassment.

you wanna feel him under you and kiss him until your lips are red and sore and your legs are shaking. you wanna feel loved and safe again because you haven’t since you’ve returned home that miserable day in august.

these thoughts keep you up well into the morning, contemplating your life while the dull ache in your wrist and searing bump on your head serve as a reminder of maybe why tomorrow could go so wrong.

cause yes, you love him and wanna forgive him but you also can’t help but see the irony in it all. he sees that you were hurt and now wants to step in meanwhile he’s been the one emotionally killing you since you first saw him again.

what makes this any different? because it’s physical? because it’s not him making you cry? because now he feels bad that you’re in obvious turmoil? your head’s starting to pound now, getting more and more worked up and confused as the night sky vanishes.

you think you sleep for maybe 45 minutes before your alarm starts blaring, rolling over in bed with a tiny groan as your temples ache.

you wince when you push yourself up and feel pain shoot through your wrist, rubbing at the red slightly swollen skin. you’re grateful for the cold fall weather coming in so it’ll be in no way suspicious when you wear a long-sleeved sweater that falls passed your hands.

the walk to school is almost unbearable, your eyes nearly shutting and feet shuffling tiredly as you grow more and more desperate to sit down; you won’t be surprised in the slightest if you pass out right on your homeroom desk.

though that’d be quite challenging you soon discover, given the loud commotion of wooyoung and the other boys behind you.

“i just don’t know why you’re such a fuckin’ weirdo about it. everyone knows you and san used to be best friends, no one is saying that-”

“yeah, we used to be friends and we’re not anymore. so what the fuck’s your point?”

the conversation immediately grabs your attention, perking your head up even with the exhaustion wracking through you because this isn’t gonna end well; you already feel it inside you.

“shiit, why are you getting so defensive,” yeosang asks, throwing his hands up as his friend all but attacks him; he just off handedly mentioned he saw him and san talking at the party and got met with curses and growls.

“because we dropped him. why even mention the little fuck?”

“why talk to him at the party?” yeosang counters, his eyebrow raised at the way wooyoung grows more and more defensive. “and why attack me now when i’m just asking you a question?”

“why bring up the little pussy when i didn’t even talk to him? you know he tries to harass the shit out of me but i-”

“shut up.”

you can’t even stop yourself from blurting the words out, turning around boldly and seeing all of them looking at you in surprise - minus seonghwa, who hadn’t arrived yet. the dark haired boy laughs upon seeing you face him, making a show of looking side to side like he’s trying to figure out who exactly you’re addressing.

“baby girl, i know you’re not talking to me,” wooyoung laughs out, his eyes wide and brow raised.

“baby boy, who else would i be talking to?”

mingi and yeosang snort at your uncharacteristic snark, both of them sitting back and watching in amusement because maybe that’s why seonghwa likes you so much. submissive most of the time but with just enough spunk and sassiness to be impressed by.

“even if you’re not friends with him anymore, you shouldn’t talk badly about him,” you continue, trying your best to stay even and calm. “he doesn’t talk badly about you, even though he very well could.”

wooyoung’s demeanor doesn’t change but you see something cross his eyes, worry or panic at the thought that you might know something more about him and the boy’s relationship. that you’re about to expose it right in front of his friends and blow up his spot.

but apparently his need to look cool outweighs his fears, something that seems to be a common theme with these teenage boys. his body leans in closer, his eyes peeking up at you with amusement.

“he could? and why’s that? because i ignore him?”

your eyes narrow at his sarcasm and you lick at your lips, cocking your head to the side because if he wants to be mean, you’ll be mean back. what do you have to lose at this point? 

you’re already bruised and sore and anticipating an emotional breakdown today. why not risk getting hurt or berated, why does it all really matter anymore?

“because you act one way with him alone and then another in front of your friends.”

“ahh and that’s something you’re quite familiar with, right?” wooyoung counters, the shit eating grin and condescending tone you just know was solely meant to hurt you; and even though it stings, you’re able to shake it off and nod your head.

"yeah, that’s right,” you say as you nod your head. 

but then you lean in closer and drop your voice, the bags under your eyes catching wooyoung’s attention before your words make him freeze. 

“but i also know you’re quite familiar with summer romances, just like me. so what was that like?”

you can feel the air shift at the word romance, wooyoung stiffening and letting out a sharp exhale as he places his hand on the back of your chair.

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” wooyoung growls, his eyes narrowed at you.

“oh no?” you hum, the patronizing tone of your voice so unfamiliar you almost don’t recognize yourself. but you’re just so done with today and it barely even stared.

you’re so done with people hurting you and the people you care about because they’re overly concerned about what others think. that they can’t let their guards down and spare their ‘cool’ image for a person they claim to care about.

“no,” wooyoung snaps, his voice low and deep and intimidating. but you’re so completely unfazed, he’s almost unnerved by it.

“the same way i don’t know that you did talk to him at that party? because you really hurt him, wooyoung,” you tell him lowly, the boy feeling his stomach sink as he thinks back to his drunken rant to the blonde that night of the party.

he really has been treating him unfairly, and he knows it too. 

san just wants for them to be friends; not even friends, merely acquaintances, so they don’t have to keep hanging out secretly at night or on weekends. he’s told him a hundred times how it makes him feel like they’re doing something wrong and isn’t truly wanted by him, even though they both know that isn’t the case at all.

but when all of his friends decided to stop hanging out with san, he didn’t wanna be dropped too. he didn’t wanna lose them for good because he knew him and san would never stop being friends. he knew both of them would never be able to stay away from each other and they’d be brought back together in a few weeks time.

he needed san but he also needed them. he needed people to ground him and keep him level headed. because san just completely consumes him and turns him into a different person, someone weak and vulnerable and someone he doesn’t wanna be.

that’s why when the blonde had quietly suggested to start hanging out together at lunch with you and him that night, his voice soft and sweet and tugging at wooyoung’s heart, his first reaction was a loud “do you really think we could do that?”

but then when san let out a scoff and shook his head, pushing past him with a dejected, “i guess not,” he pulled the boy back and gave him all the usual excuses he knows aren’t fair and aren’t gonna work much longer. 

he held him a bit too tight and a bit too long and a bit too close to be considered friendly, the same way all of their touches have been since the summer that still remains his favorite.

“that’s between me and him so i don’t see why you’re saying this shit right now, y/n. you’re in no position to-”

“san’s my friend and you’re hurting him because you’re the pussy here. so maybe you should grow a pair and stop making the boy you lo-”

and it’s when you’re about to say love that he slams his hand on the table before shooting out of his seat.

seonghwa comes in just as the loud commotion starts, his eyes immediately falling to wooyoung who pulls at your wrist and growls at you to come with him.

but he can only hear your loud strangled yelp and immediately sees red, already growing angry at the way wooyoung was hovering over you. but then once that pained noise left you and his friend’s hands were you, he couldn’t stop the way he rushed over and roughly pushed the boy back on the desk.

seonghwa stood between you and him, everything about his stance protective and alert, with wooyoung flat out on the desk behind him as his eyes burned into him.

the clattering of desks and scuffles of feet immediately cause nosy heads to shoot around and stare, a few gasps leaving their mouths as mingi and yeosang mumble a few curses and jump up.

but it’s like seonghwa doesn’t even notice anything, his eyes only on wooyoung as he tugs the boy up by his shirt; none of his friends have ever seen him look this mad before, jaw clenched and eyes hard as he tightens in his hold on him.

“are you fucking crazy, wooyoung?”

“am i crazy? you’re the one choking me!”

“if i’m choking you, then why the fuck are you still talking?” he growls lowly, tightening his hold on the boy’s collar.

you tug on seonghwa’s shirt but he only continues to look down at wooyoung, the boy fighting against his friend’s hold and deeply mumbled threats as he tells him to get off him. 

it’s not until mingi and yeosang push seonghwa back that he feels his shirt being pulled, turning around to see you shaking your head at him.

“it’s fine,” you say softly, eyes brimming with tears because your wrist is absolutely fucking killing you now. seonghwa immediately looks down at your arm and you thank god it’s hidden in your shirt, the boy walking around the desk to kneel beside you.

“let me see.”

“it’s fine, i’m fine,” you say quickly, blinking away the tears as you shake your head and give him a small smile. “he just scared me.”

“y/n, if you lie to me one more fucking time this week, i’m gonna-”

“he didn’t do it.”

his eyes widen at your admission and you don’t realize what you’ve implied until you see the look on his face, a defeated sigh leaving you because this is so not the way you wanted this conversation to go today. you’re exhausted and in pain and in front of far too many people to deal with this right now.

the clacking of heels sends relief through your body, the mess of desks and students staring at the back of the room causing the teacher’s eyebrow to raise.

“good morning to you all too, thank you, i’m doing well,” she says sarcastically, her eyes roaming the back of the room. her gaze lands on wooyoung’s crumpled shirt and seonghwa leaning down in front of you, a quiet hum leaving her mouth before she asks if everything is okay.

“fine, teach, seonghwa was just being his crazy self,” wooyoung says teasingly, a wide smile on his otherwise pissed off face. “did you know him and y/n are friends?”

you press your lips together so you don’t scream, just hearing the smirk on his face as seonghwa lets out a low scoff. you move your body away from him and sit straight ahead, putting your head down and letting out a few calming breaths so you don’t succumb to the many different sensations attempting to render you unconscious.

you knew this day was gonna be a disaster but you certainly didn’t expect it to start this early. you hear seonghwa say you’re gonna talk about it later and can only let out a sigh, knowing there’s gonna be a lot of things you’ll talk about later.

things you didn’t think you were ever gonna tell anyone but will be the first step in healing you. things that will make the storm that’s been brewing between you two peak before months of resisting and suppressed feelings finally catch up to the both of you.

by the middle of your shift at the cafe, you’re almost positive you’re dead on your feet.

san was concerned the second he saw you walk into the lunch room, your face pale and eyes sunken with dark circles that made him actually gasp upon seeing you. and he watched as they only got worse throughout the day, right now genuinely fearing for your health.

“y/n, it’s dead today. just go home, please.”

but you only shake your head as you take your spot on the counter, pushing down the feeling of knowing he’s absolutely right. 

because just as school let out, dark stormy clouds rolled in and it hasn’t stopped raining ever since; it seemed to perfectly fit the mood of today, dark and dreary with an underlying feeling of fear.

“i’m fine, san, i don’t wanna go home.”

the blonde let out a sigh at your stubbornness, making his way over to you as he stood between your legs. he took your face in his hands and the gentle feeling alone almost makes your eyes grow heavy, him twisting your head side to side before grimacing at your dark circles.

“babe....you look like shit.”

“thanks,” you breathe out, not even having the energy to roll your eyes or let out a scornful laugh. so san can only let out groan, squeezing your face gently even though he just wants to shake you in frustration before the ding of the oven pulls him away.

your eyes move to clock on the wall to see it’s barely 5:30, a pout on your face as you lean your head back and shut your eyes. they feel like a thousand pounds and the pain in your wrist hasn’t simmered, the immense need to just lay down and sleep forever overwhelming.

but you won’t leave san alone today and you don’t wanna go home. you don’t wanna face that house in this state because you know you’ll get snippy and it’s only gonna end badly for you.

the sound of the door causes your eyes to flutter open, your eyes adjusting to the lights before it’s like a shot of energy zips through you. 

the tall figure is in a big black hoodie but you just know it’s covering up dirty blonde hair. the boy makes his way to you and raises his head, the familiar eyes you’ve come to love and hate watching you sit there looking lifeless and pale.

“where’s san?”

“in the back,” you answer quietly. “what do you want? your chocolate vanilla-”

“i want you to come with me. we agreed to talk.”

your eyebrows pull together at his bossy tone, the serious look on his face making it seem very unlikely you’re getting out of this. but that’s just too bad because you refuse to leave early, that’s not fair and you can’t just-

“hey, seonghwa.”

san walks over and it’s like they can instantly see the concern in each other’s eyes, seonghwa looking from you to him before san simply shrugs his shoulders.

“what time’s her shift over?”

“why are you asking him when i’m right here,” you grumble, seonghwa’s lips twitching like he wants to smirk at your sassiness. san bites his lip as he looks at you, very well knowing that you need to get out of here and get some rest.

but is going with seonghwa the right choice? he knows that can easily turn into another emotionally draining fight. last week this wouldn’t have been a problem for him, he would’ve easily told his ex-friend to fuck off and that you were working till close.

but he could tell since yesterday that something was very off.

seonghwa’s concerned gaze and strange comments about your injuries, the way you looked so small and defenseless when he talked to you outside. this was different than seonghwa feeling possessive and wanting to claim you as his. there was a different kind of look in his eye - protective and concerned and almost fearful.

he lets out a sigh, giving the taller boy a look that screams ‘don’t fuck this up’ before he opens his mouth to say “right now.”

your neck snaps over to the blonde and you narrow your eyes at him as you shake your head. “no it’s not. i work till close today, what the hell san.”

“you look awful, y/n, please,” he begs softly, making his way over to you with a sad smile on his face. “everything’s under control here and if you pass out and crack your head open on the floor i just mopped, i’m gonna be really annoyed.”

seonghwa’s eyes narrow while you let out the closest thing you can to a laugh, rolling your eyes as you jump down from the counter. “i’m fine, i’m not gonna pass out,” you say, attempting to take the desserts from his hand. “so i’m gonna stay until closing and-”

the second you curl your wrist to bring the tray into you, you hiss in pain through your teeth and nearly drop the fresh cookies if san hadn’t caught them immediately. his eyes stare down at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before, his head shaking as he places the tray on the counter behind him.

he unties the apron around your neck while looking down at your hand in confusion. “did something happen to your wrist?”

you press your lips together so you don’t blurt something out again, looking over at seonghwa who’s jaw is tight and eyes are burning; he’s trying to be patient but fuck are you making it impossible right now. especially when you’re so obviously in pain and upset and trying to ignore everything the way you’ve both been for far too long.

“y/n, c’mon,” he breaths lowly, everything about his tone warning and dark.

“no,” you snap, looking over to see him watching you carefully. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek before he shakes his head and shrugs. you feel your heart drop to your stomach when he, like he absolutely belongs there, walks behind the counter and pulls the hand attached to your uninjured wrist.

“seonghwa, if you manhandle me, i’m gonna-”

“what? what are you gonna do?” he growls lowly in your ear, tightening his hold on your hand. “i’ve had enough of this shit, y/n.” he’s had enough of him being a coward and you being sad, he’s had enough of the back and forth and hearing you cry and fight with him.

he’s had enough of knowing that you’re being hurt by him and other people in your life and he’s not about to watch it happen any longer. so with that, he drags you outside to his car and helps you up into the familiar passenger seat.

“you are such an asshole,” you snap, all the anger and rage and sadness in your body hitting you like a brick. “all because you’ve finally had enough, you think you can drag me out of work and-”

“baby, please,” he begs lowly, his head dipped into the car so he’s only inches away from your face and not getting pelted with rain. “i know something’s wrong and it’s killing me. it’s been fucking killing me and i’m trying here, okay? i just...i don’t know what to do.”

you’re thrown off by the desperation in his deep tone, his eyes begging and pleading with you to listen to him. to please, just one last time, listen to him and remember that he promised he was gonna be here for you. that he promised if you ever needed him, you had him.

“it doesn’t matter,” you whine, the chaos of emotions inside you giving you whiplash. you shake your head as tears prick your eyes, tears of sadness and frustration and anger and pain. “it doesn’t even matter so just stop. you don’t have to do anything because it doesn’t matter.”

but because that could’t be further from the truth, he shakes his head and slams the door before making his way to the drivers seat.

san can only watch from the window as the car pulls away, his head in his hands as he lets out a sigh. he hopes that was the right decision, he hopes he didn’t just make things a hundred times worse for you.

but then it appears, twenty minutes later, when the door of the cafe opens, your absence might be making things worse for him. because his eyes shoot up and he meets the gaze of the person he least wanted to see today, especially given the last time they saw each other.

“what are you doing here, wooyoung?”

“what am i doing here?” you whisper, safely assuming he just kidnapped you and brought you straight to his house.

you pull up to the unfamiliar bungalow as you sit inside seonghwa’s car, the memories from the first time you were in here already breaking you down. 

you were reminded of them the second he slammed the door, the smell and the dark leather and the little air freshener hanging from the mirror; the only thing different about it was that the doors were on now.

“this is cool,” you tell him with a smile. he smirks watching your arm whip through the air, his deep voice mumbling “careful,” when a car in the other lane speeds past.

“i didn’t know you drove, i only ever saw you with your surfboard,” you tease with a smile, giggling when he rolls his eyes and looks at you.

“that’s interesting since someone’s taken it over,” he says, chuckling when you reach out and smack his arm lightly.

“you’re the one who said i shouldn’t get one,” you whined, the pout on your face catching his eye as he sends a soft smile your way.

seonghwa licks over his lips, turning off the car before facing you. 

you hadn’t said a word to him during the ten minute drive, resting your head back on the seat as you played with your fingers. he just wanted to reach over and take your hand in his, soothingly run his thumb over you to ease your obvious anxiety.

“i just wanna talk, baby.”

“and we can’t do it another day?” you ask, wanting so desperately to fight him but feeling yourself crack. you’ve been dealing with this for too long, keeping this secret and pain inside for too long and with the way he’s looking at you, you won’t be able to hold it off any longer.

“no,” he says quietly, firmly, with a sense of finality as he turns off the car and gets out the drivers side. you sigh as you watch him make his way to you, opening the door and helping you down before guiding you into his house.

no one appears to be home and it’s sparsely decorated, the white walls bare as you walk past the living area and up the stairs in defeat. seonghwa’s room is shockingly similar to the room at his mom’s, neat and orderly with a white comforter you almost can’t believe is in a teenage boy’s room.

you watch from the doorway as he plops down on his bed, his head in his hands as he runs it through his hair; the brighter tones of blonde have faded a bit from lack of the summer sun but he’s still so handsome.

he still makes your heart flutter and stomach flip after all of this, remembering how in the beginning, you could barely look at him without blushing.

but things aren’t like that anymore. 

things haven’t been carefree and fun and sweet for a while, the innocence that came with the summer morphing into something serious and heart wrenching. something that put you guys to the test to see if everything that had had happened was real and you failed.

you love him and he loves you but you both still managed to fail.

the thought brings tears to your heavy eyes, biting down on your lip as you try to blink them away. he looks up and sees you standing there, eyes full of tears and a broken expression that causes him to reach his arm out to you.

“come here.”

“no,” you say, shaking your head as your lower lip starts to wobble. 

you can’t do this. how are you supposed to do this? finally tell someone what’s been happening to you for years, nevertheless someone who’s also been hurting you; granted in a different way but he still hurt you.

he still abandoned you when you needed him, when he said he was gonna be there for you and help you through whatever you needed; and now, months later, you’re supposed to trust him with this?

“baby, i need to know.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as your stomach starts to knot, shaking your head again as you meet his gaze. but the softness and concern in them proves to be too much, biting your lip as you finally move from the doorway.

you walk past his bed and to the corner where a desk is, silently walking around and taking in his room. you’re not surprised by the lack of photos or decor, a computer resting on the desk with a lamp beside it.

and it’s like everything seems to have a place here. the computer, the mouse, the lamp, the small cup of pencils on the side, the-

“so you did get something,” is all he says, looking up to see a shy look on your pink face. you choke out a laugh as you nod your head, “sneaky, right?”

a chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, looking over the turtle’s smiling face and he hates how overpriced this probably was.

but he can’t bring himself to say anything negative, not with how you look like a mix of being proud but also on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “wasn’t necessary,” he mumbles, shaking his head but keeping the turtle tight in his hold anyway.

“it was, i-i wanted to,” you tell him, “especially since you were nice enough to-”

“y/n! who’s your handsome friend! does he wanna stay for dinner?”

and it seems like the stupidest thing to make the tears finally break but it does just the trick. because one second you’re standing up and looking at his desk and then the next, your face is in your hands and you’re sobbing over a $20 figurine of a surfing turtle.

it’s just placed right there on his desk but it’s the only sign of decor in this room that doesn’t have a purpose. like it’s the only thing he possessed that had meaning and was a gift from someone, the only thing that meant enough for him to showcase and keep as a memory.

your heart feels like it’s breaking and healing at the same time over this stupid fucking turtle that you don’t even hear him get up until you feel his arms around your waist, his head leaned down to press a kiss against your shoulder and hum lowly against your skin.

“i didn’t tell you at the time but i thought you were so fucking cute,” you hear him say, a humorless laugh leaving him as he listens to you cry and remembers that night so well. “i was pissed you wasted your money on it but you were so god damn nervous to give me a little turtle that i couldn’t say anything.”

you lick at your lips as look at your floor as you shake your head, your exhausted body wracking with quiet cries and sobs before he can’t take it anymore. before he turns you around and brings you into his chest, wraps his arms around you tightly and shushes you against your head.

you try to push him away at first but he only tightens his hold, his voice low and shaky as he begs you to stop crying. kisses the side of her head and apologies for how many times you’ve cried within these past few months, how many times he’s made you cry.

“and i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you the way i promised,” he says quietly, your face pressed into his chest as you feel your tears soak his shirt. “but i will now, baby. the whole fucking time. you just need to tell me what happened.”

“what’s so different now?” you ask weakly, pulling back from him as you wipe at your teary, wet face. “what the fuck is so different now that this time you’re telling the truth?”

his adams apple bobs before he lets out an exhale, his hands softly cupping your face to wipe at your tears. “because someone’s hurting you, y/n. someone’s been hurting you this whole time and no one’s doing anything about it.”

“you’ve been hurting me too,” you remind him, tears leaking from your eyes as you look him dead in the face. ”you were supposed to help me. you-you said were gonna.” 

and for the first time since you’ve met him, you watch as his eyes well up with tears.

“i know,” he says, “i’ve been fucking stupid and i’m sorry. but i love you, baby, i do. i just...it killed me leaving you. i drove away from your aunt’s house and cried for the first time since i was kid. that scared the fucking shit out of me, y/n, and then i saw you again and i couldn’t....”

he shakes his head because nothing is gonna make what he did sound okay. 

he was stupid and selfish and acted like an idiotic teenage boy who didn’t wanna be called whipped or a pussy. he thought he was guarding himself from others while also sparing you both: you from himself and him from being vulnerable.

but every shred of vulnerability and emotion came to him the second he told he loved you, something that through all of this was always the truth.

“nothing i say is gonna make it okay and i know that. but please. let me help you now,” he says softly, his hand wiping at the tear on your cheek before moving to the bump on your head. 

you wince when he touches the sore skin before his other hand gently moves to your arm, lifting up your sweater and feeling rage rip through his chest when he sees it’s swollen and bruised.

and seeing that is what causes him to completely lose it now, pulling you into him again before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

you only feel a few stray tears of his hit your neck but it doesn’t stop you from crying too. hearing his quiet pleas to tell him what happened, to please tell him and that no one’s ever gonna hurt you again.

not him or anyone else.

he brings you to sit down on the bed, your tear-stained face mirroring his and you’d wanna laugh at this situation if it wasn’t so heavy. if both your hearts weren’t so heavy and you didn’t feel like you were about to pass out.

but seonghwa held your hand the whole time, just sat there and breathed with you until you finally uttered “my parents.” and it’s like just those two simple words set off something inside you, tears blurring your vision as you tell him about the morning this happened and many other mornings and nights similar.

about your dad’s drinking and mom’s pills and the way they’ll gang up on you. how a lot of the times it’s usually verbally but when they do get physical, it always leaves marks. the words make seonghwa growl or tense every time you mention it, his eyes watching you talk so carefully it would intimidate you if it was anyone else.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, trying so hard to keep the anger out of his voice as he remembers that day in the summer so well. when he saw your parents and saw the change in you and felt something heavy settle into his chest. “i asked you, baby, i asked if you were safe at home and-”

he can’t even finish the sentence because he doesn’t wanna make it sound like he’s blaming you but fuck. he never would’ve let you leave your aunt’s house if you told him you weren’t. he’s even blaming himself right now because he did think there was the slightest chance you were unsafe there and still let you go.

“i was scared,” you tell him honestly, voice shaky and quiet because if you’d never met him, you probably wouldn’t have told anyone what was happening. would’ve lived out the next two years before never seeing them again and commending yourself for getting through it alone.

“i-i didn’t wanna bother anyone by telling them that and have them pity me. my aunt would probably let me stay with her and i didn’t... i don’t wanna burden her like that.”

his arm tightens around you as he brings you closer to him, your head on his chest as you finally allow yourself to completely melt into him. it’s still such a familiar feeling, the way your body calms against his and you inhale his scent.

“you aren’t a burden to anyone, she would want to help you, baby,” he hums against your head. he can’t help but the think back to his conversation with her the night before you left, when he straight up asked her about this very scenario.

it makes his stomach sink even more now, the whole situation shitty and eerie and making him feel incredibly guilty.

“you’re not going back there.”

and usually those words would have you jump up with wide eyes, ask where you’re supposed to go and how you’re gonna deal with these consequences. but at this very moment, your eyes are heavy and he’s so warm and close and you just wanna succumb to your exhaustion.

because it also feels as if some weight was lifted. 

not completely, because you still know there’s a lot to deal with, but at least you said the words. at least someone finally knows you aren’t just a clumsy idiot who walks into cabinets and walls.

you can only hum into his chest as you bury your face further, your eyes heavy before they shut completely. he looks down and smiles sadly when he moves a piece of your hair, his thumb reaching out to swipe the dark circle under your eye.

“i love you and i’m sorry,” he says lowly, your eyes fluttering open to see him looking down at you. you smile at the softness in his once teary eyes, resting your arm around his waist before placing your head back on his chest. 

“i’m gonna help you, okay? i won’t stop until you’re safe.” help you the way he knows he should’ve been this whole time, made you feel safe and loved the way he said he would this whole time.

“safe now,” you mumble tiredly, your eyes growing more and more heavy before you finally succumb to your exhaustion.

he watches you sleep for the next few hours, unable to look away in fear that you’re gonna disappear. he’s been wracking his brain about what to do the whole time, an occasional whine or twitch from you causing him to hum lowly and stroke your hair.

he managed to maneuver the both of you under the blanket, your body curled into his before you rolled over in your sleep and rested your head on his pillow. 

he stretches his numb arms out and sighs heavily, grateful for the text from his dad that he’d be working late tonight; he knows the man wouldn’t care about you staying over but he still wants this time just with you, even if you’re sleeping.

your phone vibrating on his desk causes him to walk over quietly, seeing three messages from san and a missed call from your dad. it takes everything in him not to call back and curse the man out, tension all over his body as he thinks about how badly he wants to beat the shit out of him.

but knowing that wouldn’t fix anything, at least for tonight, he closes out of your dad’s contact and looks for your aunts, pressing a kiss to your head before sneaking out of his room; the phone only rings four times before he hears the familiar chipper voice.

“y/n, my girl! how are you?”

“it’s seonghwa,” he says and it’s like immediately, something in her knows something’s wrong. whether it be her intuition that failed you or the tone of the boy’s voice, she listens with tears in her eyes as seonghwa tells her they have to get you away from your parents.

(part 20)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars​ ; @kuaenam3g​ ; @byungaji​ ; @floweryjh​ ; @joeycheungg​ ; @lostscenarios​ ; @atinyxtopia​ ; @sanisms​ ; @kpopnightingale​ ; @simpforhyunjin​ ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel​ ; @hwaxbum​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; @songsoomin​ ; @toffee-hwa​ ; @deobitiful​ ; @hyunjeansuniverse​ ; @clown-teez​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know​ ; @tiny-whatsername​ ; @fairieofeternity​ ; @yixing-jaehyun​ ; @sleepyseonghwa​ ; @revehosh​ ; @atletino​ ; 

[ziracona]

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

[stillunpainted]

Postmortem

cw for implied suicide.  1.8k fic under the cut baby.  Pretty much Neku dealing with the aftermath of the game and then having a conversation with Joshua.

    Neku couldn’t take sudden noises anymore.  It’d always been somewhat of a bother, and his music had helped him block out the little surprises that’d make him jump, the startle like a lightning bolt, but now it was agonizing.  It was as if at any time, he could be seized by the hand of death, freezing his blood like a blizzard.  Though he’d made a promise to himself to wear his headphones less, especially in public, it wasn’t easy.

    Shibuya was vibrant and busy, but it was also overwhelming.  There were times where after simply going to Mr. H’s cafe with Shiki or Beat and Rhyme would result in him having to go lay in bed for hours afterward, staring at the ceiling until he was able to think again.  His parents were worried.  They’d noticed that he was going out more, and generally seemed to be happier than before, but the exhaustion, the anxiety, those weren’t things he could hide.  He enjoyed spending time with his friends, but he wasn’t used to them.  He felt out of place, worried that he’d somehow mess up and they wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.

    He’d picked up an old acoustic guitar, and spent about thirty minutes trying to figure out how to tune it.  That was all he could bring himself to do for the day.  He checked his messages, and it was much of the same.  Shiki had sent an update on her most recent project with Eri, and was still trying to convince him to try it on.  He wasn’t adamantly against the idea, he just wasn’t sure if it was his thing.  He’d had to expand his fashion sense during the Game, and he wasn’t sure where to go with that now.  Was it something he wanted to pursue on his own, or did he want to be influenced by the people around him?

    Though Neku had avoided Udagawa like the plague, he still could see CAT’s art when he closed his eyes, peering over him as he stared up at the painted walls.  He wanted to see it again, as his mind could only replicate everything with a certain degree of accuracy, but the thought of going back made him feel sick, sick enough to rush to the bathroom and wait for it all to come up, but nothing was there.

    The Composer often lingered in his mind, interrupting his normal thought processes.  In this moment Neku was staring at the ceiling again, tapping his fingers to the beat of a song, when he suddenly remembered Joshua off-handedly mentioning that he liked it.  Neku took his headphones off.  He still hadn’t forgiven Joshua yet.  There was so much pain, so intense that even though those bullets left no scars now, he could still feel them.  He sat up, deciding that today he would face it.  He wasn’t sure why, but felt if he didn’t go to Udagawa now, these thoughts would never stop, haunting him like old ghosts over and over.

    On his way through Shibuya, he kept his headphones on around his neck, ready to put them on if necessary.  He walked past stores he’d come to know well, absentmindedly trying to spot the faces of the shopkeepers he’d spoken with over and over.  There were so many people.  Even though he couldn’t hear their thoughts anymore, it floored him how they all were living their own lives, their own narratives that he would never be privy to.  Their secret gardens.

    It was a conversation he thought back to at times.  He’d wondered if not being able to cross into someone’s garden was even a bad thing.  Was trying to understand someone enough, even if it wasn’t actually possible?  He felt he knew Shiki and Beat pretty well, and Rhyme and Eri to an extent.  His memories of Joshua though… Joshua at times felt completely alien yet familiar, almost like a trick mirror.

    Neku arrived at Udagawa, and saw that the art had changed significantly in his absence.  CAT’s work was still there, some of it new itself, but there were other artists who had added to the wall.  Nothing unusual, but the change made Neku’s chest feel heavy.  He was used to seeing everything shift gradually, not only see the end result.

    It was still beautiful, he decided, just different.  Still the same wall, marked by the same kinds of people.  He wondered if one day he would get some spray paint himself, though he had no idea what he could create.  It wasn’t a part of himself that he’d explored in a long time, not since… 

    Even now, he felt the empty space within his heart.  He still had the last message his friend had sent him on his phone. “See you there,” it’d read.  An interaction that had never been complete, a day that never happened.

    “Well, you’ve brought yourself back here, haven’t you?” A recognizably smug voice rose above the background noise of everyone else passing through.

    “Look at what the cat dragged outta the sewers,” Neku retorted dryly.  Joshua crossed his arms, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.  Neku was tense, but this relaxed him somewhat.  He figured Joshua hadn’t merely returned after what, months, simply to antagonize him.  Though he didn’t rule it out of the realm of possibility, “what brings you out here, anyway?” Joshua put a hand on his chin.

    “I was intrigued as to why you returned here.  It seems like a morbid place to go by yourself.  I thought that maybe you’d need supervision,” Joshua said.  Neku pulled at his hair, trying not to visibly give Joshua the satisfaction of annoying him.  Though he supposed that Joshua could read his mind, which agitated him further.

    “I don’t need- whatever, it’s just that I kept thinking about everything that happened.  I dunno if closure is exactly what I’m looking for, but it’s something like that, I think,” Neku shuffled his feet.  He was never especially good at reading people, but Joshua was always a special kind of enigma.

    “There’s nothing I can add to that.  You already know why I did what I did,” Joshua said, “neither of us can take that back.”

    “You can’t take that back.  All I did was survive,” Neku said.  He didn’t expect an apology, nor was he surprised by Joshua’s nonchalant attitude towards it all, but it still stung a little.

    “Oh come on Neku, we’ve both made mistakes,” Joshua said, wrapping a hand around his neck.  A flash of guilt washed over Neku, but he let it pass.  He’d talked about it a lot with Shiki after the game, though it was still something he’d never fully forgive himself over.  He’d found that he had a pattern of hurting people.  He’d finally stopped at his duel with Joshua, but still.  He wondered if that old self was buried within, ready to rise at any time.  I killed him- “Neku?  Locked up in that head of yours again?”

    “What would’ve happened if I’d shot you?” Joshua didn’t even flinch at the question.  But he wavered a little.

    “I would’ve been erased.  I would’ve lost that game, yknow.  That’s how the rules are,” he says.

    “I know, but-”

    “The UG would’ve been destroyed, but I can’t say I’d know what would happen after that,” Joshua says, “I can’t give you a real answer, even if I wanted to please you that way.”

    “So even you don’t know,” Neku said.

    “Yes Neku, you’re a fantastic listener,” Joshua replied.  His normal grin is back, though something about it seems off.

    “So why would you do that?  If you’d actually gone through with destroying Shibuya or whatever, it wouldn’t have mattered at all if I’d pulled the trigger or not.  Not much of a crossroad, really,” Neku put his hands on his headphones, contemplating putting them on.

    “It was all a game.  My bet with Megumi.  You were my proxy,” Joshua said, crossing his arms again.

    “What were you even trying to prove with me?  That I’m terrible and representative of Shibuya’s evils, or something?  I was just trying to live and help Beat get Rhyme back at that point.”

    “That’s spot on.”

    “Then did your proof involve me shooting you at the end?”

    “Yes.”

    “Then your plan would’ve killed you no matter what,” Neku said.

    “What do you mean?”

    “No UG means no Composer, right?”

    “Correct indeed.”

    “So you were planning on dying.” A silence settled over the two of them.

    “Well, I didn’t,” Joshua says.  Neku thought of how he initially saw the game as a dream that he dreaded the end of.  There was nothing he had to worry about other than missions, nobody to talk to but Shiki, nobody to nag him.  It was the closest he’d ever been to whatever his own ‘world view’ had been.

    “I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” Neku paused, wondering if it was even worth saying.  Joshua had killed him twice over, but still, “I’m glad you didn’t die.” Joshua narrowed his eyes.  The Composer wasn’t alive per se, but even he knew that wasn’t exactly what Neku had meant.

    “And that’s that,” Joshua said, turning away.

    “Don’t think I’m going to take that as an excuse.  You didn’t have to turn it into some big game with my life,” Neku said.

    “Well aren’t I alive because I did, based on your logic?” At this point, Neku wanted to tear out his hair.  Joshua was the same as always, so he didn’t know why he was expecting anything different.  But surely something had changed within the Composer, as he had preserved Shibuya and brought everyone back to life.

    “Dammit, do you even realize what all of that was like?  You killed me twice, and- and…” Neku trails off, shuddering.  Joshua’s hands ball up into fists and he stares at the ground for a moment, frowning.  He almost seems small, completely losing the aura of being something beyond the fifteen year old standing in the streets of Udagawa, the mural hanging over his head.  He straightens his posture and he’s the Composer again.

    “I do realize.  I’m not incapable of understanding pain,” Joshua says, “hmmm.  Maybe that worsens my case.” He turns to face Neku once again, who wants to back away, but doesn’t.

    “I guess it’s hard to keep going.  I’m not on my own anymore, at least.  Shibuya’s felt bigger than it ever has for me, and that’s exciting on one hand, but overwhelming.  There’s so many places I could go, but I also feel like something terrible is always on the horizon again,” Neku says.  He doesn’t know why he’s telling this to Joshua of all people.

    “Could I be the cause of that terrible something?  Is that what you fear?”

    “No.  I still don’t… I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive you really, but I trust that you won’t use me again.  I’d be lying if I said being around you doesn’t make me nervous, but I still trust you.  We were partners, right?” Neku says.  Joshua tilts his head.

    “Right, we were.”

[percontaion-points]

Raven King chapter 7

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 7

He hadn't said anything last night, maybe too tired to demand an explanation for last night's fiasco...

Look, I don't like any of these characters. But I'm also not going to sit here and let David drag Neil through the mud simply because Riko thinks that threatening to murder people is a personality trait.

"Tell me why someone who came here early to get away from his parents and who flinched away from me the first time he thought I was going to strike him goes so far out of his way to offend someone like Riko Moriyama. I would have thought you'd have better survival instincts."

He's not wrong. Considering that Neil keeps wanking off about how he has to keep his head down and survive, he sure is going out of his way to do the exact opposite. Signing to a college sportsball team, going out of his way to be around not only Kevin, but also Riko.

Neil is so fucking stupid, and I can't deal.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Wymack asked, coming to rejoin him at the table. "Your parents must be something else."

Coach David: I'm going to have a team of nothing but children who are troubled. They deserve second chances.

The children: *act out because they've never had a positive influence in their lives, and don't know any better*

Coach David: *surprised pikachu face*

"I didn't know," Neil repeated. "Until Coach told me about the Moriyamas this May I knew nothing about Riko's family. After that I thought maybe that's why we met so long ago. I thought Riko's father and mine were discussing territories and borders. But last night Riko said my father belongs to the Moriyamas. What did he mean by that? Why did he say he bought me?"

"Don't lie to me," Kevin said. "We are in enough trouble as it is."

"My mother didn't tell me why we were running," Neil said. "I never asked her why she finally had enough. I was just glad to get away. We never talked about anything real after that. It was always about the weather or our current language or the local culture—the next time she had anything meaningful to say to me was when she was dying. Even then she didn't talk about my father. Not once did she mention the Moriyamas. If she had, I wouldn't be here right now, would I? So tell me the truth."

I get that Neil was a literal child when all of that happened. But after drilling into Neil's head about needing to be on the run, of needing to keep his head down... AND SHE COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO EXPLAIN TO HIM WHY HE NEEDED TO DO THAT?!

Like Neil isn't smart, but I'm honestly blaming a lot of that about his mother failing to teach him fucking anything.

"You were a gift, another player for the master to train. You had two days to win him over: an initial scrimmage with us to show off your potential and a second scrimmage to prove you could adapt to and implement his instructions and criticisms. If afterward he decided you weren't worth his time you would be executed by your own father."

Neil swallowed hard. "How did I do?"

"Your mother wouldn't risk failure," Kevin said. "You never made it to the second practice. She disappeared with you overnight."

The heat in Neil's stomach could have been nausea or rage, but he didn't know who he was angry at. His mother had hated his fascination with Exy his entire life. She'd told him over and over he'd never touch a racquet again but she never told him why. He couldn't understand why she had never explained the totality of what they were running from.

ONE FIVE MINUTE CONVERSATION, AND THIS ENTIRE SHITTY SITUATION COULD HAVE BEEN 100% AVOIDED.

COMMUNICATION IS FOR FUCKING SQUARES.

By 'the girls' she meant her stage sisters. Dan, aka Hennessey, had gotten a fake ID back in high school so she could work as a stripper in a nearby city.

Casually mentions child sex workers like it's not a big deal.

"Listen up. There's obsession and there's dysfunction. You can't make Exy your end-all be-all. This won't last forever, okay? You'll shine bright, then you'll retire, and then what? You gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies?"

Somebody had to fucking say it.

Neil thought of his mother's heavy fists on his skin and her fingers knotting in his hair. She'd told him time and time again girls were dangerous.

So his mother beat him until he didn't like girls, but couldn't be bothered to do the same thing about liking exy?

He dragged his attention back to the task at hand and vowed never to listen to Nicky again.

Chapter 7 summary: Neil wakes up on David's couch. He thinks about sneaking out to avoid the confrontation he knows is coming, but decides to get it over with. He tries the old “he started it” route, but David doesn't buy it. When Neil brings up how everybody is of the opinion that Seth was killed, David calls him out on his bullshit. That Seth was a junkie, and Andrew should keep his BS conspiracies to himself.

They go to the stadium, where Neil has his conversation with Kevin. Says that he gambled on Kevin not remembering since Kevin showed no sign of acknowledgment when Kevin went with David to recruit Neil. But he goes on and says that he didn't know about how his father “belonged” to the Moriyamas, and didn't know why he and his mother went on the run. Kevin explains to Neil about how nepotism topples empires, and the head of the Moriyama family wanted for Neil to earn his keep. Wanted Neil to become another little Kevin and Riko. But Neil's mom freaked out over the thought of them murdering a literal child and took off before the guy could decide if Neil would be worth living or not. As I keep saying, it sounds like all of Neil's current shit falls back on his mother's inability to inform him of important stuff.

Kevin tells Neil to run off and continue hiding. To survive. Neil says that he's tired of being on the run constantly. Says that Andrew seems to think that the foxes constant publicity will keep the Moriyama family from murdering him. Kevin says that Neil knows too much, and that even a TV appearance won't stop them. Tells him to go. Neil refuses, and insists he's going to stay. Kevin promises to keep up their nightly practices. They briefly talk about why it is that Andrew is so obsessed with Neil, without moving the plot along.

Some time passes, and Neil tries to bury himself in practice but ignores the news. Then, because this book is hurting for plot, we get a random conversation with Dan about casual sexism and sex work. The book tries and fails to breathe life into the other background characters. There's this really unholy passage about Nicky and Neil talking about Andrew necking on a cheerleader and it's upsetting Andrew. NOBODY FUCKING CARES.

Nicky then starts to talk about how the twin's mother gave both of them up, one ended with his aunt, and the other in foster care. But none of this is new info to the readers, so... move on already. He also mentions that their aunt died, and thinks that Andrew murdered her. Neil believes this. He also off-handedly mentions about how Andrew saved him from being beaten by some homophobic assholes, but got court-ordered drug therapy as thanks.

He then spends a long time talking about Christianity and homosexuality. And it's a heavy topic for sure, but I'm not sure if this is the right book for this. Especially since this is immediately bookended with Nicky telling Neil that playing sports isn't a personality.

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam 3/?

Chapter 3: Moments Long Remembered

read it on AO3 here | from the beginning

chapter 1 | chapter 2

story summary: Princess Emma isn't the princess of much anymore. It's been months since her parents and brother were taken, and she's been on the run with her godmother Red. When Emma and Red board a merchant vessel to sail to Arendelle, Emma quickly finds that the captain is not to be trusted. After helping two slave brothers, Emma takes over the ship and begins her journey to save and rebuild her kingdom.

what's in store for chapter three? New characters (not new new, but new to this particular world)! Some background! Pining & tension!

thank you all for reading and staying with me even when I am too busy (just for this one week and a half time period) to post on schedule

Moments Long Remembered

On the worst day of her life, Princess Emma rode out far beyond the castle walls. She was alone, as she preferred solitary rides on her trusted horse, and the cold air was nothing to her as she raced through the snow covered forest. For a few hours each day, she got to feel entirely free. All responsibilities could wait, every forced smile was just a distant memory. She had no one to try to impress, no one who expected anything from her, no one who needed her to be someone she was not.

It wasn’t the excursion, nor the weather, nor the steed that made this day so horrible. Rather, it was the enemy who had breached the castle walls in her absence.

The most poignant part of this particular memory, for her, were the moments directly before she was made aware of the events inside the castle. She was at ease, content, blissfully happy and oblivious to the screams that tore through the halls she called home. She wasn’t worrying about her parents when they were stolen and taken far out of her reach. She didn’t consider her brother, her little lion cub, as he was yanked from the joy he knew and shown the truths of the world she’d wished he’d never have to learn.

Her happiness was shattered when the Evil Queen appeared before her, the black gown cutting across the crisp white snow in her path. Terror as she’d never known it dropped into her stomach as her hands gripped the reins and her horse skidded to a stop, and the fear that sliced down her spine was colder than the shards of ice that hung from each tree branch.

The Evil Queen’s mouth was curled into a wicked smile, white teeth framed by the wine color of her lips as she moved them to speak.

“Emma.”

But it was not the Evil Queen who stood in front of her now and called her name. It was her most trusted friend, her ally, her godmother, Red. The memory, as vivid as if it had only just happened, dissolved into nothing, sizzling in the early summer air as Emma blinked it away.

“Yes?”

“Liam and I are leaving,” Red told her, “I doubt we’ll be gone more than a few hours.”

Emma could’ve counted on one hand the number of times that she’d been separated from Red in the last months, and no matter how irrational it was, she couldn’t stop her muscles from tensing as if bracing for pain. But they needed some new crew, and Red was more than capable of the job.

“Good, good,” Emma said absently. She wished she had something more intelligent to say, but her mind was still fixated on moments long gone. “I’ll be here,” she added.

“Yes,” Red grinned, “you and Killian.” She didn’t give Emma time to inquire after the tone she’d used before Red turned and called, “Liam!”

Liam stood across the deck in conference with John Terry, but at the call of his name, he excused himself from his fellow sailor and joined Red and Emma where they waited by the gangplank.

“We shall return shortly,” Liam promised his captain. “I hope Killian won’t give you too much trouble,” he added in good humor.

“We’ll be just fine,” Emma told him. The trouble Killian Jones gave her was of a different nature, and she wasn’t about to disclose those particulars to his older brother.

Emma watched Liam and Red until they disappeared into the crowd past the docks, forcing her thoughts from straying to the fear that was an ever-present buzz in her blood. Instead, she planted herself on the steps leading up to the quarterdeck, her mind occupying itself with whatever it could latch onto.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Killian appeared from below, offering Terry a few words as he passed on his way towards her.

“Swan!” he called, and her eyes immediately met his. He’d called her that three times that morning, and it hadn’t seemed unusual once. But perhaps that had less to do with the moniker and more to do with who had said it.

Killian dropped onto a step below hers, a gentle and genuine smile spreading across his lips. “Terry’s gathering his group and then they’ll be off,” he told her. “I double checked the list with the storeroom, and it seems that everything’s in order.”

“Perfect,” she replied, willing a coherent sentence to present itself as she looked away from his striking eyes.

“Tell me, Swan,” he began, his voice low, “do you always dress in a layer of knives, or do you save that for special occasions?”

She laughed, and it made her realize how long it had been since that had happened. Her head thrown back like that, the bounding joy in her chest—weeks, at least. Probably months, probably before that morning ride that featured the Evil Queen.

Emma leaned back a little, her hand going to the edge of the vest to pull out a blade and pass it to him. “Eight in total, four on each side,” she explained. “And yes, I’ve fixed every garment I have with some sort of weapons holder.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot up, glancing up at her from the knife he had been examining. “Isn’t that dangerous? How have you not injured yourself?”

“Not any more dangerous than being unarmed and running into some Black Knights,” she said with a shrug, glancing away to avoid his concerned gaze. “But each blade has a metal casing. That’s what keeps it from hurting me or tearing the fabric, and it snaps into place to stop it from falling out.”

His dark brows furrowed, his eyes flitting from the knife to where she’d pulled it from. “The casing, is it tricky?” he wondered. “Does it get stuck?”

“Only when I forget to clean them,” she replied. Without pausing to consider what she was doing, she reached for his free hand. “Here, try it,” she said, guiding his fingers to the spot on the other side of her vest.

Killian moved slowly, hesitantly, but he allowed her to line his fingertips against the hidden pocket. His eyes locked with hers, and that familiar tug and snapping of electricity surged between them.

“Just, um, push up a little until you feel a click, and then it’ll slide out,” she explained, slightly breathless despite the fact that she’d been sitting for several minutes.

His gaze didn’t stray from hers as he followed her directions, the thin handle of the blade dropping into his hand. She could feel his body heat like this, his hand against her waist, and it seemed like he was both too close and not close enough.

“Captain?”

Emma and Killian broke apart at the sound of Terry’s voice. She stood, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen out of place. “Yes?” she asked, glancing quickly at Killian who had returned to an upright position and was currently examining the two blades closely. The tips of his ears were red.

Terry smiled, and Emma pretended not to notice anything but politeness in it. “With your leave, Captain, we’re off.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied, looking between him and the several crew members gathered a few feet behind. “I look forward to receiving your report upon your return.” It was best that she maintained the pretense of captain with the crew, according to Red. Something about safety or respect or concealing her identity from newcomers. She could hardly remember now.

Emma waited until they were out of sight before returning to her previous position, and Killian had recovered enough that the blush had even faded from his cheeks when he looked at her. He passed her the knives without a word.

He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to hers rather than where her fingers secured the blades. “You mentioned Black Knights,” he said, “have you fought many of them?”

It wasn’t that surprising of a question, honestly, given that she’d mentioned them off-handedly before. She just couldn’t figure out why she had mentioned it in the first place. Perhaps it was the same reason she showed him how her vest worked.

“Can you define ‘many’?” she asked, her voice calm and soft and not at all befitting the subject.

Killian’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening to restrain some emotion she couldn’t place. “It’s been…months,” he murmured. “You’ve been fighting them all this time?”

“Fighting them, running from them, gathering information from them,” Emma answered. “Until I figured out that she was tracking me with magic, at least.”

“What did you do?”

“Red got her hands on some potion,” she said, trying for a smile that ended up a little sad. “So that’s why we’re here now. And that’s why there’s not a single Black Knight searching this port.”

Killian was quiet for a moment, and it wasn’t until his jaw released its tension that he spoke. “What information?”

“At first, we tried to get them to tell us where my family was, but they’re not particularly talkative,” she explained, hoping she sounded more unaffected than she felt. “Eventually, we started following them, finding their camps. We spent weeks combing the forest, tracking their movements, and making maps of their locations.”

“Did you find them?”

The ghost of a smile on her lips was revealing. “We discovered where she’s holding my father. It’s remote, not to mention protected by battalions of Black Knights. Red and I are good, but we’re not that good.”

“That’s where Arendelle comes in,” he concluded. “You’re hoping they’ll help you to free him with magic.”

She sighed, her eyes trailing away from him and fixing themselves on the gangplank. “That’s our hope,” she said. “If I can get to my father, he’ll be able to find my mother. And I have no doubt they’ll make quick work of locating Leo.”

“You and your brother,” Killian continued after a moment, “are you close?”

The question was enough to bring happier, lighter memories to the forefront of her mind. “Very,” Emma replied. “He’s like light personified. Always overly enthusiastic, always making me laugh. But he’s driven, too. Spends all day in the practice yard unless I convince him to do something else.”

“He’s probably just trying to keep up with his sister,” Killian said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Maybe,” she allowed. But thinking about her brother fighting made her think about her brother losing, and then the guilt that had lived in her chest since that day slammed against her heart. “I wish I’d been there to protect him when he really needed me,” she confessed, and the words were almost shocking for her to hear. She’d thought about it again and again, but never had she voiced it, as if keeping it to herself made it less real.

“What happened, exactly?” Killian asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” he added quickly.

“I used to go for a ride every morning,” she began, “and that morning was no different. Until the Evil Queen showed up and outlined her perfect plan to destroy my family one curse at a time.”

“She cursed all of you?”

“No,” Emma replied, a bitter laugh on her lips, “not me. Because the knowledge that my family is slowly dying while I am powerless to stop it…that’s a curse in its own right.”

“Swan,” Killian breathed, and the emotion in his voice was overwhelming. “I don’t pretend to know the specifics of the Evil Queen’s magic, but you must know that it wasn’t your fault. If your parents, your brother, your numerous castle guards couldn’t stop her, why do you think you’re to blame?”

He paused, shaking his head as he gathered his thoughts. “I have no doubt that you will defeat her, love, but it’s not only your combat skills that are going to take her down.”

Killian believed in her. She’d known it since the very beginning, but her doubt had been strong enough to convince her it was a misled belief. But now, with his head bent in reverence and his startling eyes that wouldn’t waver from hers, she had no choice but to accept his words as truth.

The guilt and the doubt didn’t evaporate into nothing, but their power over her waned.

Emma nodded—acknowledgement, gratitude, something else, she wasn’t sure—and they ventured into safer, less dramatic topics that allowed for a lighter atmosphere to settle over them.

Watching the ship, as it turned out, was not the most interesting job. There was very little for them to do except wait for the others to return, though Emma was relieved for something unexciting for a change. She needed the respite much more than she’d realized, and though the absence of constant panic was almost jarring enough to cause panic itself, she convinced herself that she was secure for the afternoon.

The first interruption to her temporary peace came when a figure appeared on the dock a few steps from the gangplank. Killian and Emma stood, their hands reaching for their swords in a synchronized motion that made the stranger chuckle softly.

“Exactly as Red described,” the woman said, pushing her hood back to reveal a heart-shaped face and blonde hair that was piled atop her head. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” she asked, looking expectantly at Emma.

Emma relaxed at the mention of her godmother, but she did not alter her posture to show it. She nodded sharply, and Killian stepped forward to put himself between her and the stranger. The action wasn’t shocking or offensive to Emma’s pride; instead, it asserted the rank she held and the loyalty of those who followed her.

The woman was petite, but she moved with the surety of someone who had seen hardship and battle. “They call me Tink,” she informed them once she’d boarded. “I was told I could find you here.”

It took everything in Emma’s power not to revert to her diplomatic training. She could not smile politely, could not offer refreshments or entertainment. Here, she had to appear coarse and immoveable like the captain she was supposed to be, at least until they knew Tink could be trusted.

Killian, following her lead as always, did not falter to play his part. “What is your business here?”

“Friends of yours—Red and Liam—told me you’re looking for a few additions to your crew. I’d like to offer my services,” Tink said, unshaken by their front.

“Why?” Emma asked, and her gut pinched at the rude tone in her voice.

A smile spread across Tink’s face as she paused before speaking. “Well, they’d hardly tell me, would they?” She laughed at her own joke, and then continued, “But they seemed significantly more interested once they learned about my dislike for the Evil Queen, so I suspect that’s got something to do with it.”

“You have a personal vendetta?” Killian asked, though it didn’t quite seem like that much of a question.

Tink’s arms folded across her chest, the smile disappearing from her lips. “I’m an ex-fairy,” she replied, “and let’s just say that before I met Regina, I was not an ex-fairy.”

“And now you’re looking for revenge,” Killian offered.

“Justice,” Tink corrected. “But yes, I’d like to help in the fight against her.”

Emma glanced at Killian just as he was turning back to her, and their eyes locked for a moment. Had Red and Liam been there to witness the silent conversation that passed, there would have been a hushed discussion between them later. Without them there, the only acknowledgement of the event was Tink who smiled to herself.

“Joining this crew would guarantee a death at her hand if we’re caught,” Emma warned, her demeanor nearly returning to normal with Tink’s objective revealed.

Tink cocked her head slightly, her wide eyes studying Emma with a level of perception neither she nor Killian could comprehend. “You’re not just a captain, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re someone special,” Tink added, “I may not be a fairy anymore, but I can still feel it. Who are you?”

At this question, Killian tensed, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Once he’d determined that there was no one close enough to become a threat, he looked back at Emma, another silent inquiry.

Emma moved, a hand on his shoulder to calm him as she passed, and when she stood directly in front of Tink, she almost felt like the princess she hadn’t been in months.

“My name is Emma, and I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”

The shock on Tink’s face was less than Emma had anticipated, but the grin that replaced it eased her worries. “I knew you weren’t just running,” she said, “and I would be honored to join you in saving your kingdom and your family. Beating Regina is simply a bonus.”

Emma offered her hand to shake, and Tink accepted both the gesture and the wordless accord that came with it. “Welcome aboard,” Emma said.

--

Emma returned above deck from checking the storeroom with Terry, finding Killian speaking with Tink and the other sailor who had been sent by Red and Liam before the suppliers had made their way back.

August Booth was a man who could be charming when he wished to be, but the scowl that had overtaken his expression upon the mention of the Evil Queen left Emma with no doubt of his loyalty. He asked fewer questions than Tink, but his curious eyes were revealing to anyone who cared to look.

To any passing observer, Killian looked relaxed as he stood before the two crew members. His shoulders were back, his left hand resting casually against the hilt of his sword. But Emma could tell by the angle of his neck that he was watching the pier for unexpected visitors, and the set of his feet prepared him for a fight.

“It’s definitely a step up from the last ship I sailed on,” Tink said, her nose wrinkling at a distasteful memory.

“I’m afraid my sailing experience is limited to what I’ve learned in the last few months,” August said with a glance towards Killian, “but I’ve been told that I’m a fast learner, so I hope the captain won’t throw me off at the next port.”

Killian chuckled, “So long as you follow orders, you’ll be fine.”

Emma was pleased to find that Killian had warmed somewhat to August, as he’d been uncharacteristically sharp upon meeting him. While Emma had eased into the topic of the Evil Queen, Killian had been skeptical and quick to determine August’s exact beliefs regarding Emma’s family. August’s father had been murdered when Regina had torn apart the village outside the castle, and though Emma read his grief and anger as nothing threatening to her, Killian had bluntly asked if August found the former king and queen at fault in the tragedy.

Now she leaned casually against the mainmast, neither announcing herself nor bothering to hide to effectively eavesdrop as she watched the group while they talked.

“I’ve heard that the princess is quite the fighter,” August added, studying Killian carefully as he spoke.

It was not the sun that brought red to Killian’s cheeks and to the tips of his ears. “Aye, I have yet to see her equal,” he admitted, making no attempt to mask the pride in his voice.

“Do you suppose she’d agree to a demonstration later?” Tink wondered.

“We could prove our worth with a sword,” August offered, grinning at the prospect.

“You’d have to ask her yourself,” Killian replied. “I’d be happy to spar with you both if you’d like. I don’t pretend to be as skilled as the princess, but I can manage well enough.”

Before Emma could interrupt to agree to the demonstration, a creak of the wood and a flash of movement from the corner of her eye brought her attention away from them. Her defensive instincts sputtered when she recognized Red and Liam, though the third person to step onto the gangplank was a stranger to her.

Killian reacted as she’d expected him to, turning away from Tink and August to meet his brother. They exchanged a nod that held unspoken words, and when Killian stood before the potential crew member, his body language conveyed his reserve. Tink and August fell back, acknowledging Red and Liam without moving towards the man.

“This is Will Scarlet,” Red announced, not meeting Emma’s gaze though she was aware of her presence.

Will Scarlet had no scabbard to hold his sword, but rather a knife that was secured in a leather casing along his belt. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his gaze traveling from each person until it settled on Emma, and she had a feeling that he knew more than he should’ve with a single glance. It was the kind of thing that one learned when forced to, the ability to read a person’s intentions by their movements and everything they did not say.

“I suppose you’re the captain,” he said, causing every eye to shoot towards her. His tone was casual, unaffected, but there was a gravity in his posture that revealed something much more intense.

Emma nodded slowly, but she didn’t move from her position as she leaned against the mast. Her gaze drifted from Will to Killian in a flicker, but she focused back on the stranger before a second had passed.

“I hope our choices have been acceptable thus far, Captain,” Liam said, more a question than a statement. The tone was unfitting of the camaraderie they’d achieved, maintaining the pretense of rank in front of Will.

“Indeed,” Emma replied. She paused, testing the bounds of their attentiveness and therefore respect. No one moved, no one breathed, all waiting for her to speak as they knew she would. There were many differences between acting as a captain and acting as a princess, but commanding the attention of a room, or a deck, was a similarity.

“I was about to consent to a sparring exercise—a demonstration, if you will—for our new recruits when you arrived,” she continued. When her eyes landed on Will, she made a show of studying him. “I assume that you carry no sword because you have no need of one,” she added.

The corners of his lips twitched, his hand patting the leather case that held his knife. “They’re a waste of metal, if you ask me,” he told her, “I prefer to keep things simple.”

She hummed, gauging his expression to determine if he boasted a skill level that he did not possess. “And you believe that you deserve a place on this ship?” she asked, pushing his temper, his pride, to see if she could find a weak spot.

“What I do or do not deserve isn’t important, is it?” he replied, a grumbling sound that came from his throat that revealed either a mild irritation or anger directed towards a third party. “The way I see it, it’s what the Evil Queen deserves that really matters,” he nearly spat, though there was no lack of control in his voice.

Emma, though she couldn’t admit it without first determining Will’s loyalty, was impressed. His eyes burned with a familiar enduring rage that she had seen each time she’d looked in the mirror.

“I’m guessing you’re aware of the risks you’d be taking should you join us?” Emma asked, measuring each shift in his expression for anything alarming.

“I’d hardly be here if I couldn’t face the consequences,” Will said. “And you’re not the first crusade against the Evil Queen that I’ve joined, although Red seems to think you’d give me a better chance than that lot ever did.”

“We beat her or we die trying,” Emma told him as she pushed herself off the mast and moved a few steps towards him, all the ferocity she’d been attempting to hide away behind the sadness and the guilt leaking out in her voice. “Are you ready for that?”

Will grinned, his eyes darkening. “You can count on it, Captain.”

Emma didn’t wait more than a moment before she turned to face the others. “Red, fill him in. Liam, make sure Terry’s ready to set sail and get us going. I want us in the wind before sunset, and we’ve got a prisoner to hand over before we can leave,” she ordered, though her tone had dropped the unforgiving command as she surrendered her facade. “Killian, show our newest allies to their quarters once Scarlet has been briefed, and then I’d like you and your brother to join me in escorting Silver off this ship.”

No one hesitated to obey the second she finished speaking, and though Killian lingered to hold her gaze for a long moment, he said nothing. Emma could not regret this, because there was no lack of communication in his sparkling eyes.

--

Violence had always been a part of her life. It was a byproduct of her existence, a necessity, a simple truth. But before her last ride from the castle, she had never considered herself a violent person. True violence was always accompanied with a driving force beyond rationality, perhaps a hatred, a passionate fury, or bloodlust. Those particular feelings did not promote impartiality or decorum, and they had certainly never been a part of her training. But as Emma walked behind the Jones brothers, watching Silver stumble and fight against his restraints and the firm hands of Killian and Liam, she felt at least two of those three feelings.

He hadn’t come quietly, neither physically nor verbally passive, and the bit of cloth preventing him from speaking had been a necessary addition. He had swung at her and at the brothers, he had tried to kick and scratch at them before the rope had limited his movements, but none of that had affected her the way his words had.

It was not his insults towards her that had stirred the violent feelings she felt now, but rather it was his cutting remarks aimed at Liam and Killian that had led to the swelling cheek he now brandished.

She had known cruelty—hell, she had looked it in the eye and watched its wine-colored lips smile at her—but she had never known it quite like this. Because Silver held no power. He would hang, he would die, he would never be seen by any of them again, and yet he still attempted to slice at the brothers and prod every wound he believed they had. He was a desperate man, she knew. He was a coward. He was a fool.

Silver was defenseless, hopeless, powerless, and yet Emma still wished to draw her sword and cut him the way he’d tried to cut the Jones brothers.

Her hand curled around the hilt of her sword, her grip so tight that it nearly hurt her to hold it. She focused on her steps rather than the anger that swirled in her chest, the hatred that shuddered in her stomach and traveled up to her shoulders and made them tremble as she restrained herself.

Liam spoke quickly and efficiently with the jailor when they arrived, and Emma kept herself three paces behind them to prevent her violence from pushing her to interfere. There were a few formalities that took some time to sort out, some documents to sign verifying witnesses, and the only thing that held Emma back was the look on Killian’s face.

It didn’t lack the anger she felt, but his was the expression of a man resolved. He accepted Silver’s fate and wished for nothing more. His fists did not clench in preparation of beating him, his lips did not part to issue his sentence or even a parting taunt that bragged of flipped roles or lost and gained freedom. If Killian could watch the man who had carved lines into his back with near equanimity, what right did she have to act on her desires?

She signed her name Emma Swan, gave Silver one last pointed glare, and then she led the brothers back towards their ship, eager to put as much distance as possible between them and this port.

[datheetjoella]

Fantober 2020, Day 30: Domesticated

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 30/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,821 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Domesticity, Accidental Marriage Proposal Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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

Unlike many others, Haruka didn't go to work in the morning with dread in his gut. He had turned his passion into his career and despite there still being days when we'd rather swim leisurely than be barked at by his coach, he hadn't reached the point yet where he had gotten tired of training.

Nevertheless, Haruka's favourite moment of the day was unlocking the door to their apartment, where he could relax on the couch and unwind in the bath, but most importantly, where he could see Makoto again. Finally, that moment had arrived.

Muffled noises resonated through the walls, informing him that Makoto was home early. That knowledge brought a smile to Haruka's face. Although his day had been pretty good so far, he could always use a bright grin, a loving embrace and a tender kiss. Time to replenish his Makoto-well.

He stashed his key back into his pocket and pushed down the doorknob. "I'm home," he called out as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't get a response, so he ditched his bag in front of the bathroom door and went inside.

Makoto was standing in the middle of the living room with his back turned to him, pushing their wireless, low-decibel vacuum around the coffee table. It had been a gift from his mom on his previous birthday - yes, Haruka had reached the age where his parents gave him practical things as presents. Recently, she had become obsessed with high-tech appliances and after he off-handedly mentioned the cord of the vacuum getting tangled when he was on the phone with her while cleaning, she took it upon herself to rid him of those issues.

It had cost far more than Haruka would ever be willing to pay for a vacuum cleaner, but admittedly, it performed amazingly and left their old, cheap one in the dust. Vacuuming had been at the bottom of both of their lists in terms of chore-preferences, but this one ran so smoothly it eradicated the reasons they disliked it.

But the vacuum wasn't why Makoto hadn't heard him; after all, it was relatively quiet. It were the headphones covering his ears that caused him to miss Haruka's arrival.

Haruka opened his mouth to call out again rather than touching his shoulder or jumping in front of him, lest he startle him. But he abruptly shut up when Makoto started to sing along to his music.

His soft voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and the notes immediately nestled themselves in a chamber of Haruka's heart. Ever since they were kids, Makoto had been the better singer between the two of them, but as he grew older and his voice matured, Makoto improved even more. His vocal range was pretty wide so he could effortlessly sing along to a variety of genres, be it mellow ballads or high-tempo rock songs. While Makoto's voice was already a treat to listen to when he talked, hearing him sing was a rare but very welcome massage to Haruka's eardrums.

To suit his voice, Makoto's taste in music was also very broad. He enjoyed almost anything, so sharing earbuds with him or passing him the aux cord in the car meant Haruka was in for a surprise. This time, he was singing along to an upbeat song by some foreign pop group that was often played on the radio and in stores. The lyrics described the sea breeze and silver sand on a summer night and although it was a bit out of season now they were well into autumn, Makoto's beautiful voice made it sound like a timeless serenade.

With bated breath, Haruka watched and listened. The sight of Makoto singing while vacuuming was rather mundane, something that could happen on any given day of the week, yet it made Haruka's chest brim with profound affection. He could travel the world, eat mackerel at Michelin-star restaurants, swim in every body of water within existence, and he still wouldn't be as happy as he was now. Trophies and the thrill of competing were a great bonus, but all that mattered was this; after work, he came home to the person he loved more than life itself, carefree and content.

When Makoto turned around the table to vacuum the floor on the other side, their eyes met and a wide smile lit up his handsome face. "Ah, Haru, I didn't hear you come in. Welcome home."

Naturally, Haruka smiled too. "I'm home," he said again.

After he turned off the vacuum, Makoto fished his phone out of his pocket to stop the music and put his headphones down on the table. Then, he went over to Haruka to engulf him in a big hug and welcome him home properly. As their lips met in a gentle kiss, Haruka realised he had been wrong; this was his favourite moment of the day.

He cupped Makoto's face, the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw prickling his fingertips and although it was a feeling he otherwise found unpleasant, the roughness was kind of nice now. It was a part of Makoto and since it would be gone tomorrow morning after he shaved, Haruka had to savour it now.

Makoto pulled back sooner than he would've liked, but Haruka wouldn't sweat it. There was more than enough time left in the day to dedicate to loving kisses.

"When you unload your bag, you can leave your towels and swimsuit in front of the washing machine instead of putting them in the laundry basket," Makoto said, "I'm doing laundry anyway so I'll put them in once this round is done."

"Vacuuming, doing laundry," Haruka said with a huff of amusement, "Are you aiming to be a house husband?"

"Depends." Makoto shrugged. "Are your applications open?"

"I guess."

"Then does that mean I'm hired?"

"Who else would I hire?"

Makoto chuckled. "Does that mean we're married now?"

A large question mark appeared above Haruka's head. Had he just proposed to Makoto? "Engaged, I think?" Haruka said with a frown. This was not how he expected this milestone to go down. He'd thought there would be at least more gasps of surprise, fireworks and perhaps even a tear or two. Not a joking remark on an extraordinarily normal day. "This is the most confusing proposal I've ever heard."

More melodic laughter streamed from Makoto's mouth. "It's not exactly how I had envisioned it either, but I must say I quite like it. It was so easy and natural, like everything else between us is, too," he said and he did have a point. "Besides, I'm happy with the upgrade. I was never a fan of the term 'boyfriends' anyway. 'Fiancés' has a much nicer ring to it, doesn't it?"

In Haruka's opinion, it did sound a lot better. Fiancé was more encompassing than the term boyfriend was, and while Makoto was undoubtedly his boyfriend, he was so much more than that. He was his best friend, his better half, his Makoto. "How did you think of me before if you don't like the word 'boyfriend' then?"

"My partner, my significant other, my best friend with a whole bunch of benefits," Makoto said with a playful raise of his eyebrows, but then he smiled, soft and genuine. "My Haru-chan."

It was the answer Haruka could've predicted, yet it still made heat rush to his cheeks. "Drop the '-chan'."

Makoto snorted. He raised his hand and carded his fingers through Haruka's black locks. "Hey, Haru?"

"What?"

"Do you think I'll be a good husband?"

"Your cooking skills can use some brushing up," Haruka said with a smirk, earning himself an offended 'hey!' from Makoto. "But other than that, you'll be the perfect husband."

"Thanks," Makoto said, leaning down to plant a kiss on the tip of Haruka's nose. "You will, too, but I already told you that, didn't I?"

Haruka nodded, smiling as he recalled it. "During our second year of high school, when I was teaching you how to cook mackerel in miso for Ran and Ren."

"Back then, you said you weren't interested in getting married."

It was true. When he was younger he had no intention to get married, but that was because it wasn't possible to marry Makoto and it wasn't like there was anyone else he wanted to be with. It was a great relief that over the years, it had become an option. "I changed my mind."

A warm twinkle shone in Makoto's eyes. "I'm glad. Although I'm happy enough just being with you, there's something extra special about our relationship being officially and legally recognised, don't you think?"

Haruka nodded. According to their friends, they'd been like an old married couple since they were kids so in that regard, nothing would change. But even if the nature of their bond didn't change, the way the world viewed them would. Whenever Haruka met someone new, it was difficult to explain what Makoto was to him: with the title of husband, all those problems would vanish and everyone would understand immediately that Makoto was his world.

"If we get married in a few years, we'll be able to save up for a ceremony on the beach, and maybe for a honeymoon in Okinawa," Makoto said and Haruka's heart swelled at the thought, "But for now, we'll enjoy the fiancé-stage of our relationship."

"Yeah," Haruka said. Their lives were a bit too hectic to get married right away, but that didn't mean they couldn't fantasise about it. They would have plenty of time to dream up the perfect wedding. "To celebrate our engagement, I'll cook a special dinner tonight. What would you like to eat?"

"Mackerel."

"Mackerel?" Haruka asked with a frown. "Not green curry?"

Makoto shook his head. "Mackerel is my fiancé's favourite food."

That made Haruka's stomach flutter. Could Makoto be any more kind and selfless? He was truly proving himself as husband-material. "I'll make a chocolate cake for dessert then. That's my fiancé's favourite pastry."

At the mention of chocolate cake, Makoto's smile softened. "Thanks, Haru," he said and pressed a sweet kiss to Haruka's lips. "There isn't anyone in the entire world who I'd rather spend my life with, so thank you for choosing to be with me again and again."

"Me neither," Haruka said, tightening his arms around Makoto's neck. Revealing the contents of his heart remained to be something he struggled with, but Makoto deserved to hear just how much he meant to him. No matter how difficult something was, for Makoto he'd always try his best. "I love you."

"I love you too," Makoto said as he leaned their foreheads together, their noses touching. "So, so much."

Their eyes fell shut as their lips met in another passionate kiss.

If every day with Makoto was this domestic and comfortable, then Haruka was already looking forward to all the years yet to come.

[mr-lancers-english-class]

DannyMay Day Thirty One: Free Day!!!

Quick shoutout to @dp-marvel94 for (probably unintentionally) single handedly motivating me to finish this. Your support mean a ton to me!

AO3

It was the third anniversary. Three years. Three hundred and sixty five days, three times over. Six semesters of high school. Three birthdays. One alternate evil timeline averted. Two kings overthrown. One full country of dead yetis saved. Two different tearful confessions to get the truth out and then set it straight. All within three years. And here it was.

His third Death Day.

The first had passed with little fanfare, just a casual remark from Tucker about how it had been a full year of fighting ghosts. The second had been an overdramatic affair hosted by Skulker, as he was the only ghost who had found out the exact date, that had ended with half of the dead partygoers locked up in prison for such crimes as intoxication, theft, destruction of property, and cursing in the presence of a young ghost, and all of the living partygoers nursing ectoplasmic-drink-induced headaches for weeks. This was his third Death Day, and he had very simple plans: sleep in, order a pizza, annoy Jazz, and game with Tucker and Sam all night.

“What do you mean you can’t make it?” Danny nearly shouted into the phone. “It’s my Death Day!”

“I know, Danny, and I’m sorry. I really am. My parents didn’t tell me about the gala until this morning!” Sam was genuinely sorry, Danny knew, and she almost sounded embarrassed.

“Do you have to go?”

“I tried to talk them out of it, but I think I’m stuck.”

“Are you able to come over tomorrow?” Danny switched his phone to his other hand, erasing and adding a few things to his whiteboard calendar.

“I can make that work, yeah.”

“Great! Then we can have my party a day late!”

“I’m so sorry!”

“You’re fine, Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Danny hung up and flopped onto his bed. It was less than a minute later when his phone started to ring. Without even checking the caller ID, Danny answered.

“Did you talk them out of it, Sam?”

“Uh, hi Danny,” Tucker answered.

“Oh. Hi Tucker.”

“You sound disappointed to hear me.”

“Sorry, just, Sam can’t make it tonight.” There was silence on the other end, and Danny felt the need to fill it. “Y’know, to my Death Day party?”

“Um, heh heh, I uh, I have something to tell you,” Tucker’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“You can’t make it either, can you.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, I can’t. My aunts and cousins are gonna be in town for the night, and my parents have decided we’re doing a big family dinner. They’re even making me help cook. Tucker’s famous pork roast is on the menu tonight!” Danny held the phone away from his ear as his friend’s volume grew.

“Your aunts are coming to town?”

“Yeah, the lesbian ones.” Tucker sounded exasperated.

“No, I know who you’re talking about. I mean, they’re only gonna be in town for one night?”

“Yeah, road trip stuff. They’re driving cross-country, and are just stopping for the night.”

“So would tomorrow work? Because Sam can make tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow should work, yeah!”

“Great! I’ll see you then,” Danny sighed, hanging up and tossing his phone to the other side of his bed.

“Alright. How’s a halfa to spend a lonely anniversary of being brutally killed by an interdimensional gateway?” he asked into the emptiness of his room.

~~~

There was a knocking at his door. Danny blearily opened one eye. The other was pressed into his pillow and crusted shut. The knocking was incessant.

“Ugh huh ugh,” he croaked out, before falling off his bed with a thump. The knocking stopped.

“Danny? Are you okay?” Jazz’s muffled voice called through the door.

“Ugh.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.” The door opened slowly, before Jazz poked her head in.

“Oh, there you are. Are you okay? That doesn’t look comfortable.” Jazz took a few steps into the room and sat on the foot of Danny’s bed. Danny gently floated himself up from his position on the floor, untwisted his body, and sat next to Jazz.

“It wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Uh, okay. Well, can I show you something in the lab?”

“Ugh! What is it?”

“Just a little something I’ve been working on for the past few days. I think you’ll like it.”

Danny groaned and flopped backwards across his bed.

“I’m not really feeling it, Jazz. I’ve kinda had a bad day and I just want to curl up in a ball alone in my room.”

“Danny, I get that you’re tired and probably had plans that got cancelled, but you can get up and walk down stairs and stand in the lab for five minutes. Hell, you can fly down the stairs for all I care. But I really want to show you this, and it’s important to me.”

“Jazz, seriously, I don’t feel like doing anything,” Danny said, rolling to face away from his sister.

“Danny! It’s five minutes! So can you please get over your moping? Besides, I really think you’ll like it.” Jazz reached over to grab Danny’s shoulder, but her hand fell through.

“Jazz, no! I’ve been telling you that for like five minutes! I just want to sit up here and be alone!”

“This is about your Death Day, isn’t it?” Danny glanced over his shoulder, surprise written in his features. “Oh, don’t look like that. I remembered. You didn’t tell me the last two years, but I was at Skulker’s party. And, well, this is kinda about that. But I was expecting to show you tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?”

“I thought you were out with Tucker and Sam. You mentioned you had plans, and it was so quiet I thought nobody was home, so I was planning on showing you a little late. But then Mom asked me to come up and check on you. So here I am.” Jazz paused, waiting for a response. When none came, she continued. “You can go back to your moping as soon as we’re done, but since you’re home, can you please come down so I can show you this actually on your Death Day?”

Danny groaned with enough exaggeration to shake the walls of his room slightly. “Fine.”

“Thank you. Now come on.” Jazz grabbed her brother’s hand and pulled him out of his bedroom. She let go when they reached the stairs, but could still feel his presence behind her. To the unaccustomed, being around Danny activated the most primal fight or flight response possible in mankind. Those who didn’t know very rarely identified that it was Danny giving them that reaction, but as someone who had lived so close to him for so long, Jazz was unaffected and could see what happened to everyone else. At this point, most of Casper High didn’t really feel it anymore, but there was always the occasional outsider Jazz could study from afar.

“So, what is it you want to show me?”

“It’s a surprise, but it will definitely help you with your patrols.”

“Can you please tell me?” Jazz thought she could feel Danny making the praying motion with his hands as they entered the kitchen. “Please?”

“It’s literally at the bottom of the stairs. You can wait that long.”

“Fine! But this had better be good.”

They reached the lab doors. Jazz unlocked them and waved her arm for Danny to go first. “After you, little brother.”

“Why are the lights off?” Danny asked, halfway down the stairs. Even with the kitchen light coming from behind them and her brother in his human form, Jazz could see Danny’s slight glow. “I swear, I’m gonna trip and fall and die again. Can you-”

As Danny reached the last step, all the lights in the basement turned on at once. Approximately thirty ghosts shimmered into the visible spectrum as five humans jumped out from behind various boxes, shelves, and tables.

“SURPRISE!”

Danny stopped, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“Happy Death Day, little brother,” Jazz said as she caught up. Danny turned to look at her, and Jazz took a moment to realize how tall her brother had grown.

“Wait, what?” Jazz was about to answer, but before she could, someone grabbed Danny away and swept him into a hug.

“Happy Death Day!” Tucker shouted, picking Danny up in a hug. As soon as he put him down, Sam picked him up instead.

“You really think either of us would miss this, you big dork?” she asked.

“I-”

“Danny-boy! C’mere!” Jack had picked up his son the instant Sam had set him down. For as tall and as filled out as he was, Danny was incredibly light. “Happy Death Birth Day, son.”

“Dad, that’s-”

“Oh Danny,” Maddie gushed. “Happy Death Day.”

In the ensuing minutes, Danny was swept from human to ghost and back again in seconds. Each being in the room wanted to make sure that they got to wish him a happy day and make sure he knew they were there to celebrate him.

From Dora to Frostbite to Dani to Valerie to Ember to Johnny back to Sam and Tucker to Kitty to the Box Ghost all the way back to Jazz, Danny didn’t know what to say. His friends and family, both alive and dead, were all here. They hadn’t forgotten. They were all here for him.

It was his third Death Day. And he’d be damned if it wasn’t his best one yet.

[writerbyaccident]

An Enchanted Cage: Part Two (Yandere Draco MalfoyxReader)

Request: Oh my God please continue the yandere draco fic

Part One Part Three

           Standing beside the creek, you chewed your bottom lip anxiously. Regardless of the days that had passed since the beginning of the summer, you still worried that Draco wouldn’t show. Despite his promise to meet you there that afternoon, you couldn’t help but remember how he once promised much the same thing, only to leave you waiting for four years. And as glad as you were to have your old friend back in your life, there was still a part of you—the hyper-alert, defensive part—that was afraid of it happening again.

           In all honesty though, that wasn’t the only reason for the slightly uneasy pit your stomach. You were hardly a fool, after all, it was fairly obvious that there was something that Draco wasn’t telling you. Some reason why you hadn’t seen him in four years, that he always spoke so vaguely about his school, that he rarely ever mentioned his family. Looking back, you recalled him being somewhat odd when he was younger too, off-handedly mentioning things that you either knew were impossible or didn’t recognize at all. You had always figured that he was just playing make-believe back then, and perhaps he had been, seeing how he never brought up those things nowadays. But he still wore those—really, you didn’t know what else to call them—those robes. That, plus Draco’s vagueness these days, made you wonder at times if he might be a part of a cult. As much as you wondered though, you didn’t pry, knowing that if Draco wanted to tell you, he would. But when you finally spotted him walking towards the creek, you still had to wonder.

           Picking up his pace, Draco grinned once he saw you. Seeing you, being with you, never failed to lift his spirits, a fact that he taken deliberate care to explain to both if his parents. Truly, talking to them about you had scared Draco like almost nothing else, but it was more than worth it if it meant he would no longer have to keep his distance from you. Besides, he reminded himself, you were surely terrified nearly all of the time, constantly surrounded by feral, vicious Muggles without an ounce of magic to defend yourself with. It truly boggled Draco’s mind, how you managed to survive all those years without a wizard like him to protect you, almost as much as it amazed him that Muggles could ever produce a creature as exquisite and miraculous as you. That was why it had been necessary to tell his family about you, Draco simply refused to let you be hurt and tainted by the lower rungs of your kind.

           “Hello,” Draco greeted you when he finally reached the creek. “I was wondering if you might be up for a change in scenery today.” Curious, you furrowed your brow and smiled slightly.

           “Depends on what the new scenery will be, I suppose.”

           “My mother would like you to join us for tea is all.” Shocked by this sudden development, you scrutinized your friend’s face for any sign of a joke. But as carefully as you looked, you saw nothing but honest eagerness in Draco’s eyes.

           “You mean, right now?” you asked anxiously.

           “Yes,” Draco snickered, “right now.” Glancing back in the direction of your grandparents’ house, you considered his offer. You knew very little about Draco’s family, neither of your grandparents having ever seen their mysterious neighbors. This invitation was rather sudden, and if you went, your grandparents might worry. On the other hand though, you had told them that you would be visiting with your friend Draco this afternoon, and nothing said you would have to stay long if things went poorly. But what truly settled the matter for you was the clear excitement in Draco’s eyes. After so long of wondering about his family and his life, he was finally opening up to you. If you rejected his offer, he might not do so again.

           “Alright, then,” you told him. “Lead the way.” Reaching across the creek, Draco took your hand in his to help you cross it without slipping. When the two of you started walking though, he refused to let go of it, his grip firm but gentle. Technically, Draco did this for practical reasons, seeing as you needed to be touching him to get through the wards. But truthfully, he would have taken the opportunity even if that hadn’t been the case. Even after passing through the wards, squeezing your hand softly when you subconsciously shivered at the sensation, Draco continued holding it. He couldn’t remember precisely, but he knew that the last time he must have touched you was when you two were children. Since reuniting with you, he hadn’t found the proper opportunity. So now that he had, Draco was determined to prolong it as much as he could. He couldn’t help it, your skin was just so warm, so soft. And now that you were with him, he could ensure that they stayed that way.

           Leading you into the lavish manor, Draco looked back to find you staring at his home in awe. It was rather intimidating, to be sure, what with its sheer size and clear opulence, but he knew that you would grow used to it soon enough. As you passed through the hallways, you took in the dark tapestries and intricate paintings, shaking your head when you thought you saw one of them move. Your shoes clacked on the gray marble floor, the sound echoing around you. Finally, after walking through countless corridors and walking by countless doors, the two of you reached the parlor. Turning towards you, Draco looked you over hurriedly, wanting you to make the best first impression possible. Without hesitating, he neatened your hair and adjusted your dress, only taking a brief moment to relish the feeling of his hands running over your body.

           “Um—” you began to say, unsure of why exactly Draco had felt comfortable touching you like that, as if you were a doll he was prettying up. Draco simply held up a hand to cut you off though, not in the right mood to make an excuse. Anyway, he really didn’t need to make any excuses to you, especially not anymore. You may not have been aware of it yet, but you belonged to him, and that meant he could as he pleased with you. And so, eager for this next step to begin, Draco opened the door.

           Venturing into the parlor behind Draco, your eyes went to his parents immediately. They were both blonde like their son, with the same refined and slightly bored air that came from growing up with immeasurable privilege. They also, you noted with interest, wore the same type of black robes over their clothes. Both of them were sipping their tea quietly as they looked you over.

           “Well,” his mother began, “I can see that you were being truthful, Draco, she is a pretty little thing.” Relieved by his mother’s assessment, Draco smiled and gave a small nod, then looking to his father for his verdict.

           “I suppose,” his father drawled,  “that your purebred analogy was rather apt. She almost looks civilized.” Eyes widening in offense, you opened your mouth to speak before being cut off by Draco’s mother.

           “And once you bathe her and dress her in some proper clothes, I imagine the result will be even better.”

           “Excuse me,” you sputtered, half hoping this was some poorly thought out joke. “What the hell are you people talking about?” Lucius’s eyes slid over to you at that comment, his eyebrows lifting and his lip curling.

           “It seems as though she was not entirely able to escape the barbaric nature of her kind though,” Lucius said haughtily.

           “She’s merely confused, Father, she still doesn’t know what’s going on,” Draco explained patiently. “She’s grown up her whole life surrounded by Muggles, she simply doesn’t know any better.”

           “What are—”

           “Even so, Draco, you will have to instruct her well then. I will not have our fellows thinking us too weak to even train our pets.”

           “Yes, Father.”

           “Pet?! Would someone,” you seethed, “care to explain what is going on?” Frowning at your question, Draco wondered how best to explain things to you. What he was about to tell you would end up changing everything you had thought you’d known about the world, after all. It needed to be done delicately. But before he had the chance to begin, Narcissa interrupted, perhaps hoping to spare her son the discomfort.

           “You are to be Draco’s pet,” she told you matter-of-factly, with the tone of someone explaining something simple to a child.

           “No, I’m not,” you scoffed in reply, wondering just who these people thought they were. “I’m a person.”

           “No,” Lucius responded coldly, “you are a Muggle.”

           “And that is?” Sighing quietly at the way things were going, Draco turned to you.

           “A Muggle is someone without magic, someone who isn’t a witch or a wizard.”

           “So, what you’re trying to tell me is that you and your family…”

           “Are magic, yes.” A small laugh escaping your lips, you waited for a moment for Draco to crack a grin and tell you how ridiculous your face looked. But when he continued staring at you with that serious look in his eyes, you started to edge your way towards the door. Well, you thought to yourself with distant hysteria, it seemed that your worries of Draco belonging to a cult weren’t unfounded. However, once you had your back to the door and twisted the handle with all of your strength, you found it locked. Looking back at the Malfoys, you saw none of them had moved from their positions. Draco was still standing in the same spot, gazing at you with slight disappointment, while his parents were still seated in their armchairs. The only significant change you could spot, was the intricately carved stick now in Lucius’s hand, pointed right at the doorknob.            “You people are crazy,” you shrieked.

           “I know that this is a lot for you to understand,” Draco said gently, approaching you slowly, “but you don’t have anything to be worried about anymore. I will be taking care of you from now on, and I can take far better care of you than any Muggle can.”

           “Are you kidding me? I’m not staying here with you! I’m not your fucking pet!” As Draco continued to walk towards you, your heart thundering in your chest, you raised a hand to strike him.

           “Incarcerous!”

           Suddenly, thick ropes and cords appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around you tightly. Falling to the ground, you saw Draco’s mother had stood from her chair, pointing her own wand at you.

           “I think you ought to take her to her room,” Narcissa said stiffly. Nodding, Draco gathered you into his arms. He left the room with you secure in his grip, taking you through the corridors again.

           “Well,” he murmured into your ear. “That could have gone much better. I meant what I said back there. I’m going to take care of you, far better than any Muggle ever could. You aren’t like the rest of them—you’re not. I had to get you away from them before they tried to ruin you. And now that you’re finally here where you’re meant to be—with me—you will be my perfect little pet.”

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