#and if you mess with HER her family is coming for you so

[enwoso]

BOUND BY THE PAST | alessia russo x child!reader

it’s another long one, 4.1k words of angst and a small bit of fluff in there somewhere🤏🏼. honestly this was fun to write, and i’ve also in the process lost the request so whoever requested this thank you!

but what i will say is, i really wouldn’t wanna mess with alessia tbh.. especially after reading this. girl goes full on mama protection mode.

anyways enough spoilers, enjoy!

grumpy masterlist | psa: this fic is set after a bridge to cross, so i would recommend reading that to find out who harrison is.

the emirates stadium was alive with cheers as the final whistle blew, alessia felt the familiar rush of victory as her teammates surrounded her. the game had been a triumph and the buzz of the crowd still echoed through the stadium.

alessia's gaze scanned the stands briefly, somewhere closer to the bench was alessia's parents and her older brothers along with leah's family all cheering along, them choosing to sit in the stands for once in stead of the comfort of the friends and family box to be able to feel the excitement of the win as the season was coming to an end.

but her focus shifted as she searched for some other faces entirely, you were seated in the box with your dad, harrison. it had all been alessia's idea, she knew her family were coming but if they were seated on other sides of the stadium.

in alessia's mind the plan was foolproof, she had told her family that you were having a going out with harrison, and she had told harrison step by step what to do to not bump into her family.

even leah didn't know about harrison coming to watch the game.

"so tiny isn't coming today?" leah asked as she sat tying her shoelaces clad in a full arsenal tracksuit, her hair in a messy bun.

alessia shook her head as she finished making her pre-match drink, "no harrison's taking her out for the day, it's the only day he could do this week and i think he said something about taking her to the soft play" alessia explained, it hadn't been the only day he could do this week and he definitely didn't mention a soft play.

alessia in her mind knew the plan would work, she kept it this way, not telling anyone as she knew how fragile yeh situation was. she didn't want to ruin the one of the last home games of the season for anyone or at least have to deal with the inevitable confrontation — at not before she had to.

—

"mummy!" alessia froze mid step, the familiar sound of your voice ringing out through the corridor as she tried to make her way to the family area after having been showered post-match. her heart skipping. a mix of delight and apprehension filling her chest.

turning towards the sound, her breath caught the sight of you bouncing down the hall, your tiny hand firmly clasped around harrison's.

harrison followed hesitantly, probably knowing alessia would say something to chastise him about not sticking to the plan. his tall frame towering over the little girl as he let her lead him.

his posture was awkward, as his shoulders were slightly hunched as a white t-shirt adorned his body his long arms filled with tattoos as he looked as if he wanted to shrink himself.

his eyes darted around nervously, scanning the area. he was well aware this wasn't the plan.

"y/n, slow down," he muttered, glancing back towards the way they'd came. he had hoped to avoid running into anyone, let alone alessia's family.

but you were determined, your hair which was in little pigtails bounced as you practically skipped towards the private family area. you coming to a hault in front of your grandparent, your uncles and leah's family who were in there too.

you looking up at your mummy's shocked face with an innocent grin, "i brought daddy to see you, mummy!" you announced proudly looking between both harrison and alessia as if you'd just presented your mum with the greatest gift

harrison cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly under the weight of several pairs of stunned eyes. "hello" he said softly, giving a weak wave.

the room froze, as alessia's parents exchanged wide eyed glances her mum placing a hand over her chest as if steadying herself more than likely knowing what was about to happen. her dad's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as they flickered to alessia awaiting for her to say something.

but instead it was luca who broke the silence.

"what the hell is he doing here?" his voice was sharp and dripping from venom as he already moved forward as if to place himself between harrison and alessia.

"luca." carol warned but it was too late.

harrison instinctively pulled you a little closer, your hand tightening around his. "i'm not- i don't mean to-"

"you didn't mean to what?" gio cut in stepping up beside luca. his tone was cold as his expression was one of pure disbelief. "show up uninvited? drag her into this?" he gestured towards you as you were becoming more and more closed off.

"i wasn't trying to cause trouble," harrison said quickly his voice calm as he glanced down at you who was looking around and at him with confusion, clearly sensing the tension. "she wanted to see her mum, i didn't want to upset her."

"you've already done enough of that," luca snapped his tone still laced with venom.

the comment from luca, seemed to hit a nerve. harrison's expression shifted, his calm demeanour giving way to frustration. he straightened his posture, squaring her shoulders.

"look, i get that you don't like me, i get that i've made mistakes. but im here for y/n now. i'm not going anywhere no matter how much you scowl at me"

luca scoffed, stepping closer, "you think a few months of effort erases everything you've done? you don't deserve to be in her life"

"luca!" alessia's voice was sharp, but harrison didn't back down as her voice blended into the background.

"you think i don't know what i've done?" harrison shot back, his voice rising slightly. "you think i don't live with that every day? i'm not here to make things right with you or anyone else in the room, expect my daughter. that's it."

"your daughter?" gio crossed his arms, his face hard as he continued, "the one you walked out on the moment things got tough?"

"i've owned up to that," harrison snapped, his calm composure was cracking, fast. "and i'm doing everything i can to fix it. you don't have to like me, but you don't get to decide whether i'm in her life"

"what do you not get, you don't get to just show up and demand to be a dad!" lucas's voice was sharp, his frustration boiling over, "that little girl isn't just some box you can check off to feel better about yourself!"

harrison clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides, "i'm not trying to feel better about myself. i'm trying to be a father to my daughter and for what it's worth, alessia seems to understand that — something you two clearly don't."

"enough! stop it" alessia's voice raising as it cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. she stepped forward, placing herself between her brothers and harrison.

"mummy?" you voice was trembling as it broke through the shouting, small and wavering. your tiny hands gripping the bottom on alessia's jersey, her big blue eyes wide and shimmering with tears as she glanced between the adults.

harrison's anger drained instantly as his gaze dropped to his daughter opening his mouth to try and fix it as alessia shook her head for him to back down.

alessia immediately crouched down, pulling you into her arms, "baby, it's alright," she whispered, stroking the back of your hair. but your body was tense and your little fists balled up into alessia's jersey as you buried your face into your mummy's neck, desperately looking for any sort of comfort.

alessia turned to look for leah, leah being stood quietly by the door watching the mess unfold, shock slightly radiating on her face as well as a small pang of betrayal as alessia felt she couldn't tell her that you were coming to watch with your dad.

leah had heard the yelling from the corridor as she surged down still buzzing from the win but her smile quickly turned into a frown when she walked into the room.

"le, can you take lovie out. she shouldn't be seeing this.." alessia begged as you clung to your mummy, tears spilled from your small eyes.

leah nodding as she pushed herself off the wall, her heart arching at the sight of your confusion. alessia tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as she kissed your forehead whispering an 'i love you' before handing you over to leah.

leah shifted you so you rested comfortably on her hip, as she began to turn towards the door, she shot alessia a pointed look. leah's voice dropping to a murmur, "i told you this would happen when they found out."

alessia's jaw tightened, her frustration boiling over, "not now, leah" she snapped her voice sharp as she gritted her teeth together. leah left with you to calm you down as alessia turned to look at the boys who were still arguing.

"you fucking abandoned her, and abandoned that little girl. you don't deserve the right to waltz back into either of their lives like nothings happened.” luca spat back as harrison's jaw tightened as he kept quiet but his mind was definitely ticking away of what to say next.

"and you think showing up here unannounced is the way to do is?" gio added his arms crossed over his chest protectively.

"unannounced?" carol, interjected gently her gaze shifting to alessia, "did you.. know about this?"

all eyes turned to alessia who felt the weight of their stares pressing down on her, as she swallowed hard glancing briefly at harrison before nodding.

"i gave him the tickets," she admitted, "for lovie but i didn't tell anyone cause i didn't want to ruin the day for anyone."

"ruin today?" gio repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief at his sisters actions, "you ruined today the moment you gave him the tickets."

"you think i wanted to ruin today? i'm not here for you?" harrison snapped rising to his feet, his voice was low but sharp, his frame tense as he squared up to gio. "i'm here for my daughter!"

gio stepped forward too, his expression thunderous. "you don't get to act like the hero after disappearing for years. showing up doesn't erase what you did!"

"i never said it did!" harrison's voice rose again, his frustration starting to bubble over. taking another step forward towards gio, his chest puffed out. "but i'm not going to stand here and let you talk to me like i don't care about her. i'm trying to be better-"

"better?" luca barked out a harsh laugh as gio joined in before looking back at harrison with the same thunderous glare.

"alessia doesn't need you, y/n doesn't need you. you don't belong here, mate."

"that's not your call!" harrison shot back, his voice dangerously loud now. he took another step closer his fists clenched at his sides.

"gio stop!" alessia's voice rang out as she begged the two to stop, even now luca was trying to get gio to back down as he reached out to grab his shoulder but it was just shrugged off by the younger russo brother.

"you don't get to decide what's best for her," harrison continued, his voice trembling with restrained anger. "she's my daughter"

"don't you dare say that word like it means something to you." gio hissed stepping closer to harrison, his voice venomous. "you're nothing but a selfish coward who runs away when things get tough!"

harrison's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides, "say that again," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

"i said, you're a coward," gio spat, his eyes blazing as he stowed even closer.

the words barely hung in the air before gio swung, his knuckles catching harrison square on the cheekbone which would definitely turn blue by the morning.

harrison staggering back as his expression snapped from shock to fury in a instant. and without hesitation he lunged forward his first slamming into gio's jaw with a satisfying crack.

"you want to say that again?" harrison snarled, his chest heaving as gio was the one to stumbled this time.

gio wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring daggers at harrison. "you think that scares me?" he hissed already moving towards him again.

"enough!" mario barked from across the room, but neither of them seemed to hear.

luca rushed forward, shoving harrison back hard enough to create some space, "seriously knock it off!

alessia took the chance to dart herself between them, he hands trembling as she pushed against harrison's chest. "stop it! both of you!" she pleaded, her voice breaking.

her plea was just loud enough to pierce through the tension, as harrison's fists slowly uncurled and gio rubbed his jaw breathing heavily as he halted st him.

alessia turned to her dad, her face flushed and tight with anger, "they're done," she said firmly, her voice trembling with finality as she glanced between them, "aren't you?"

gio muttered something under his breath turning away while harrison stood rigid. the fire in his eyes gradually dimming. but alessia didn't move, staying firmly in place until both men retreated.

"this isn't helping anyone, and i'm not letting, either of you turn this into a war zone-" alessia shouted her voice firm as both boys hands were red with fury and there faces right with frustration.

"i'm not trying to fight, i just want to be there for my daughter" harrison squeaked out his voice low and strained.

“you don't deserve to be here for her!" gio fired back, but alessia spun on him, her eyes blazing with fury.

"gio! enough!" she snapped. "you don't get to decide that. i do. and i've made my decision."

"less-," gio started, but alessia cut him off with a glare.

"no, gio." she said fiercely. "this isn't about you and what you think. this is about lovie. and right now she's down the hallway terrified because of you two"

the silence that followed from alessia's words was deafening and her words must have hit a soft spot as both boys retreated form where they were, moving to be at the side of the room as alessia stayed stood in the middle of the chaos.

"less, we're just trying to look out for you," luca began his voice was calm as he tried to justify his and his brothers actions. "you know we're only trying to protect you and tiny-,"

"protect me?" alessia spun around, her voice sharp and trembling with emotion as her eyes blazed as she stared down her brother. "you think this is protecting me? scaring my daughter? making her cry? how is that helping anyone?"

"less, come on," luca interjected, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "we didn't mean for it to get like this. we just don't trust him, and—"

"and that gives you the right to pick a fight in front of her?" alessia cut him off, her voice rising, her hands clenched at her sides. "she's four, luca! she doesn't understand why her uncles are yelling at her dad. do you have any idea what this is going to do to her?"

"alessia—" gio tried, but she held up a hand, silencing him.

"no, gio. you've done enough damage." she snapped, "all you've done is make everything worse!"

both russo brothers looked visibly chastened, their gazes dropping to the floor. carol stepped forward, her face pale. "alessia, sweetheart, maybe we should all take a moment to cool off—"

"i don't have a moment," alessia said, her voice breaking slightly. "my daughter is crying in the hallway because of all this. i need to go sort out the mess, they've made."

without waiting for a response having heard enough from them, alessia turned on her heel and left the room, her chest heaving as she tried to collect herself.

—

alessia finally found leah after having to take a few minutes herself to let out a shaky sigh. leah was sitting on a bench near the locker room. you cradled in her lap.

your face buried in leah's neck, as your body still trembled slightly from time to time as small hiccups left you. leah's hand rubbing gentle circles on your back as she whispered low and soothing reassurances.

"hey" alessia said softly as she approached the two, her heart breaking at the sight of you being so upset. her body filling with so much mum guilt.

leah glanced up, her expression a mixture of concern and lingering frustration as she shifted you slightly so that alessia could take over. "she's a bit shaken up," leah murmured standing as alessia crouched in front of the two of them.

"thank you" alessia said quietly, her voice filled with genuine emotion as leah nodded lingering for a moment before stepping back to give some space.

"lovie, baby" your mummy whispered, reaching out so gently to stoke the hair out your face as your were sat curled up with your knees to your chest. "it's okay, mummy's here now."

you sniffed, finally lifting your head up out of your knees to look at your mum. your face was red and tear-streaked as your lips trembled. "why was uncle gio and luca so mad at daddy?" you asked so innocently, your voice a little raspy from crying.

alessia's chest tightened, pulling you into her arms holding you tightly as the two of you sat on the floor. alessia's back hitting the bench behind her.

"oh my love" she murmured. "sometimes grown-ups say things they shouldn't when they are upset. but that doesn't mean they don't love you, okay? uncle luca and gio love you very much. they just.. got carried away and shouldn't have acted like that, especially when you were there."

you rubbed your eyes with your fists, your voice trembling as you asked, "am i not going to see daddy again?"

the question hit alessia like a punch to the gut. she pulled back slightly, her hands gently cradling your face as she looked into your wide worried eyes.

"oh baby no," she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. "that's not going to happen, you'll be able to see your dad again, i promise."

"bu-but uncle gio said he shouldn't be here," you whispered, your tears starting to build up again, "d-does that mean he has to go away?"

alessia swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump in her throat that was building from your worries as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

"no, baby," your mummy assured you, "uncle gio only said that as he's worried about mummy, not because he doesn't want you to see your daddy. and daddy won't be going anywhere - you'll still get to spend time with him."

"really?" you asked, you voice trembling with hope.

"really" alessia promised as she pulled you into another hug, "you and your dad are creating a special bond and no one is going to take that away from you. not uncle luca, not uncle gio, not anyone."

your small arms tightened around alessia's neck, "i don't want you and daddy to fight" you murmured.

alessia's heart ached at the simple plea, "we aren't going to fight, my love." she said softly, "sometimes grown ups make mistakes, but i promise i'll do everything i can to make sure you don't see that again."

you nodded against your mummy's shoulder, you little fingers clutching the fabric of alessia's hoodie. "okay," you whispered.

leah, who had been standing a few steps away, finally stepped forward again, her expression tender, "hey angel" she said softly, crouching down next to alessia and your level.

"how about we go and get some ice cream? i think we all need a treat after today, huh?"

you lifted you head, your tears starting-streaked face slightly lighting up, "pink one with sprinkles?"

leah smiled, brushing a stray hair from your cheek, "the biggest pink one with loads of sprinkles, as many as you want!"

alessia pressed a kiss to your temple, grateful for leah's presence in that moment. "what do you think, baby? wanna go get some ice cream with lele and mummy?"

you nodded, a faint smile creeping onto your face. alessia stood, holding you close as leah placed a comforting hand on alessia's back.

as they started to pack away there belongings from the changing room, everyone else left seamlessly a good hour ago. a quick redo of your hair and the three of you were ready to go.

as they walked out from the changing room, alessia whispered softly to you, "everything's going to be okay, lovie. i promise."

the three of you only a mere metre from the exit, alessia with her backpack slung on her shoulder and your little one which had left with you this morning when harrison came to get you in her hand as you held the other tightly.

leah chatting and lightening the mood by asking you about your imaginative ice cream order. small gasps and giggles leaving leah's lips.

"can you take lovie?" alessia asked as you held tightly onto your mummy's hand, leah nodding her brow furrowing as to why though. "i'll meet you at my car in five, i have one more thing i have to do before ice cream time!"

alessia's head nodded towards the room where her brother's and harrison were still in, stood in silence mainly giving each other dirty looks. leah nodded smiling as she began to walk out the exit door, continuing to ask you what flavour ice cream you were going to get on this big ice cream you'd made up.

walking into the room the tension was thick — heavier than any moment alessia had ever witnessed between her family and harrison.

it felt like the room was on edge of something much worse than what had already happened. the harsh words, the mistrust, the frustration.

stood looking between the her brothers as gio rested an ice pack on his jaw while harrison rested one on his cheek — the swelling on both of them starting to show slightly.

alessia's arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face a mask of calm resolve but the storm brewing inside her was undeniable.

her brothers stood across from harrison their expressions full of disdain ready for another attack. as for harrison, for his part was still stiff and defensive, clearly feeling the weight of alessia's family's anger but trying to hold his ground.

her gaze locked firmly on her brothers and harrison, as gio opened his mouth to say something, maybe apologise or maybe to carry on the screaming match but you'd never know as before he even had a chance alessia cut him off.

"zip it, you've said quite enough today," she said, her tone sharp and unwavering, "and that goes for all three of you" she added pointing to the three boys before turning her gaze to her brothers.

"you two have crossed the line today. so i'll make it clear, again. in my life, my daughter or my choices are mine to decide — neither of you get to tell me how to handle it. especially when it comes to my daughter."

luca opened his mouth to argue but alessia raised her hand stopping him dead in his tracks, "shut it." she said her voice a low growl that sent a clear message.

"i don't want to hear another peep. not from you, not from you" she pointed to gio who was about to say something too, "or from you" pointing over at harrison.

the room fell healthy silent all them staring at her stunned in disbelief. alessia took a slow, steady breath collecting her thoughts for a moment.

"i get it," she said her voice now steady but there was a fire in her eyes that couldn't be ignored. "you're angry. you're protective. you're all trying to act like the hero and protect me and love. but trust me, i don't need any of you trying to believe you know what's best for me. i've been doing this on my own and i'll continue it that way. and that includes harrison — whether you two like it or not."

she looked directly at harrison, then back to her brothers her eyes fierce with strength she'd been holding back all this time. "i can make my own choices on who's in my daughters life. and if i decide harrison deserves a chance then that's my decision. not yours."

gio's fists clenched as he moved his head as if he were about to say something else but alessia was already ahead of him, again.

"don't you dare," she warned him, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. "don't you even think about interrupting me."

her brothers stood there, tight lipped, completely taken aback by the intensity in alessia's voice and the authority in her words.

harrison meanwhile, stood still, ice pack still held to h the side of his face, unsure of what to say, but realised the trust of it all. this wasn't the time for his defence — he had to let alessia take charge.

alessia stepped back, giving them all one last piercing look, "i'm done here. so if you have a scuffle you want to continue, then do it once me, my daughter and my girlfriend are out this building. do not ever bring that type of behaviour around my daughter again, or you'll live to regret it."

the finality in her words echoed through the room. without another word, alessia turned on her heel. her heart pouring as she walked toward the door, he back straight and shoulders square.

she didn't wait for anyone's reaction - this was her moment and she wasn't backing down to any of them. they all had a lot of grovelling to do.

as she reached for the door, she glanced over her shoulder one last time, "bye!" she said coldly, her voice unwavering. "i'll be with my family, where i belong. don't try and talk to me until you've figure out how to respect my choices."

the silence that followed her leaving the room was deafening. luca, gio and harrison all left standing there, two with ice packs held to their faces as the weight of the blondes words sunk in. 

but alessia wasn't looking back anymore, she was done trying to explain and make them see things her way. she had made her choice — you, leah and herself came first.

[nana-au]

church boy! eren | pt 2. to this drabble MDNI

warnings: sacrilegious themes, dom!eren, eating from behind, eren's a munch<3, risk of getting caught, unprotected sex, creampie, reader and eren are in their early 20's

pastor's son! eren who portrays himself as this innocent, godly man but as soon as he gets you alone in the dining room of his parents home it becomes very clear he is anything but. he has you bent over the table, the weight of your body crushing the open bible beneath you from when you had at least attempted to take this study session seriously. your skirt laid abandoned on the floor, panties held to the side by eren's slender fingers while his lips sucked on your clit from behind. you were a mess, mewling and bucking against the table eren's family said grace at every meal. he was on his knees behind you, tongue exploring your dripping folds while you desperately tried to get away from his mouth, attempting to give yourself some reprieve from his constant attack.

"stay still f'me," he commanded you, his mouth following your slit with every stutter of your hips. he made it next to impossible to stay still with the aggressive way he licked up your dripping cunt. you were too dazed to question it, but eren seemed wholly unaffected by his face buried in your folds - unwilling to spare a second away from it for air. the noises coming from the two of you could be heard throughout the whole house; the sound of him slurping up your juices was deafening compared to the otherwise silent residence.

"eren... please," you huffed, trying desperately to peel yourself away from his punishing mouth. your legs shook with each delve of his tongue into your pulsing entrance, threatening to give way. he pulled away at the sound of your voice, coming face to face with your glistening pussy, his chest heaving to catch up on some much needed air.

"please what?" he asked nonchalantly. like he couldn't seem to grasp what the problem could be - like he didn't realize he was eating you like a starving man having his first meal in days. no, weeks. the hand that wasn't currently hooked into your soaked panties reached up to play with your cunt, his fingers teasing your folds awaiting your response.

"it's too much," you tell him, voice high-pitched and strained. your bottom lip stuck out in a pout as his fingers trailed up and down your folds.

"but look at her... she wants this," eren hushes you, eyes glued to the way your cunt clenches each time his fingers linger over your entrance a moment too long. you just about died hearing him refer to your pussy as its own entity - like it has its own thoughts and feelings separate to yours - but with each tempting stroke of his digits against your needy hole you begun to consider he might have a point. you could only look back at him, mouth agape as his fingers easily slid through your entrance, allowing him to effortlessly glide in and out. you shuddered upon feeling his long digits breach your cunt - unable to stop him from attaching his tongue onto your engorged clit. he continues his previous act of suckling your clit, this time accompanied by his fingers buried deep into your pussy. his fingers mapped out the ridges of your tight walls before he found the spot he was looking for. the spongy little spot accompanied by your little hiccup confirmed it for him, and he let out a cool, "there it is...."

your thoughts grew muddy by the constant curling of his fingers into your sweet spot, gasping and clawing at the table beneath you while he continued to suck and fuck into you. his mouth and fingers worked in tandem to rile you up - his pace punishing - desperately attempting to get you to squirt into his awaiting face.

"eren, 'm so cl-close," you stuttered, brought on by the sharp suck against your labia. his knees dug into the hardwood floor beneath him, his mouth puckering against your hardened clit and fingers drilling into your cunt while you shook against the table above him. he didn't respond to your statement, only sticking to the same punishing pace awaiting your release. when it came, it came hard. he pulled his fingers abruptly out of you, replacing them with his tongue while he drank from the sweet fluid spilling from your twitching hole. his hands gripped the fat of your ass, spreading them apart to get a better angle while he licked up the fruit of his labor.

it was then you heard the jangling of keys at the front of his house - along with muffled voices you presumed to be his parents. you shot up immediately, attempting to dress yourself before they inevitably walked in on the scene in their dining room.

eren stood up along with you, pupils blown and pulse racing from the sudden thrill of getting caught. he watched as you bend down to pick up your skirt, his hand reaching out to stop yours. you look up to meet his eyes, silently questioning what he was doing. "i didn't get to cum yet," he tells you, and if he didn't look dead serious you maybe would have laughed.

"your parents!" you whisper-shouted at him, appalled by the idea of being caught by your pastor of all people. his eyes continued to linger - his resolve remained unaffected by the threat of being caught. at this point his parents had unlocked the door and made their way into their house - taking off their shoes and jackets while the two of you remained frozen in each other's gaze.

"they won't know if you keep quiet," he told you, and you couldn't believe the audacity of the man in front of you as you heard his parents stomp around the front of the house. he was completely unphased by the sounds of them only a few rooms away from the one you two were currently in. "relax," he told you, moving in close to you, causing your butt to hit the dining room table behind you. his fingers went down to fiddle with the waist band of your panties - still soaking wet and bunched towards the right where eren had held it just moments prior. your hand reached out to slap his away when you heard his mother speak.

"eren, where are you honey?" she called out - all sweet and expectant. unaware of the debauchery her darling son was partaking in.

"in the dining room," he called out. ignoring the horror written across your face as he continued, "i'm studying with a student, mom. we'll be done soon," his fingers absentmindedly fondled your waistband awaiting his mother's response. he executed his lies with practiced ease, and you were surprised with how he spoke with such conviction.

"do you two need any snacks?" she asked, her voice louder as she got closer to where you stood half naked with eren's hands trailing across your white panties.

"no thank you," he smiled. "she has dinner with her mother soon," you stood still listening to them talk across the house, trying desperately to ignore the ache of his teasing fingers. "we'll be done soon, mom. i'd appreciate if you could leave us be - she needs the quiet to focus."

you were astounded how easily that worked on her. her footsteps trailing towards you halted and her voice came out terribly sweet, "of course. your father and i will be watching tv in the living room. join us when you're finished."

you didn't know if you were mortified or impressed at the ease in which he lied; how convincing he was to be teasing your body just rooms away from the mother and father he swore his purity to. his thumb dug into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your sides and stripping you completely bare. you felt a shock of something cool - his purity ring - hugging the slender digit of his hand as it trailed back up your inner thigh and against your sodden folds. "will do," he called out a final time, eyes dark as he picked you up and set you on the wooden table behind you.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, eyes stuck on your delicious body beneath him, appreciating the subtle arch of your back as your subconscious anticipated the sight of his cock springing free against his stomach. your body felt on fire - flooded with guilt and horror and worst of all arousal. even after attending every sunday sermon the past month - and never once missing a second of bible study - you couldn't get yourself to believe in things such as heaven and hell. but with eren standing in front of you, taking his time to release his pulsing cock just to tease you - with his parents only rooms away; the tv speakers echoing family feud of all things... you believed the devil had to be real. and he was standing in front of you - teasing his own body and reveling in the way yours buzzed with obvious excitement.

"you can be quiet, can't you?" he teased, tugging down his boxers, his dick slapping against his taut stomach - the tip red and eager to be encompassed by your awaiting cunt. you swallowed thickly, allowing him to push you back until you laid flat against the table. a deep chuckle came from the living room where his parents resided and your body jolted at the sudden noise but you weren't sure if eren even registered the sound - too entranced by what was to come. he gently guided you down onto the table once more before rubbing his cock against your slit, poking the head against your hole. "ready?" the words that left his mouth were hypnotic - almost trance like as his other hand squeezed the fat of your hip. you nodded your head; still all too aware of the noise just outside of where you two were. he struggled a little to push past the initial ring of your cunt - but once he managed he let out a soft sigh - burying himself deep into your snug walls. his hand shot up to push back any stray hairs out of his face - wanting to focus only on you as you arched beneath him. the bible next to you lay cold while eren begun to pull out - only to push himself back in as far as he could go. your tummy bulged where his tip met deep inside you and all the air fled from your lungs at the feeling. "god, this pussy is so perfect," he told you - using the lord's name in vein to compliment your cunt.

"eren-" you squeaked out and he leaned down to deliver a small peck to your lips.

"shhh," he hushed you. "let me do all the talking," he didn't trust you to stay quiet and eren was all too familiar with keeping quiet in the four walls of the home he was raised in. "let me take care of you," he slowly made his way up to an unforgiving pace - taking his time at first before giving you what you both craved. your tits bounced with each snap of his hips and eren softly grunted with each punishing squeeze of your insides. he grew rougher with every moment, his hands holding your thighs far apart as he ravaged you with vigor. you brought your hand up to cover your parting lips that threatened to cry out his name and his own came down to rip it away - replacing it with his lips as he devoured you completely. the table groaned every time he took you, thrusting fervently while you milked him. "she's mine, right?" he asked you, referring to your pussy, voice heavy with lust and sin hot in your ear. you nodded - eyes rolling back. the cross necklace that typically laid against his chest - a reminder of his undying faith in the lord - fell out from his shirt with the passionate way he took you. the cross dangled down - tickling the skin of your neck and you winced when eren bit the skin of your lip. "fuck. take it. take my cock," he groaned. the room grew stuffy with your shared lust - and your poor pussy - too wet for its own good, begun to squelch from his cock. between eren's primal groans, your heavy breaths, the table protesting beneath you, and now your filthy pussy, the orchestra of noise could be heard outside of the room you two shared. alerting his parents.

"eren?" his father called out. not a moment later he came - his sperm spilling deep inside you. hot and sticky while your cervix contracted - desperate to take all of his children.

"yes, father?" he called out, a bead of sweat trailing down his neck.

"what's going on in there?" the gravely voice barked. eren swallowed deep, peeling off of you and pulling your skirt up your tired body.

"nothing, sir..."

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 4 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. CHAP 4 IS HERE! i'm so sorry my loves this lowkey took forever but here ya go <3 wc. 12k (my god)

✧ 3:07 am, wednesday ✧

sleep felt like a distant relative right about now. 

it would come, and then it would quickly vanish— leaving you absolutely worn, but never enough to where you could slip into a slumber. you were wired yet exhausted, fueled yet so sleepy, and it was driving you borderline insane. 

you wrestled with yourself all night. it was too hot, and then too cold— and the constant back and forth of temperature seemed to line up with your tangled emotions. you were certain, and then confused again, and then more certain that you were even more confused. but you knew one thing, though— you were stressed out of your mind. 

billie asking you to hang out shouldn’t have been the issue. the issue was that your heart twinged with nerves when you read the message, and you couldn’t seem to calm yourself down no matter how hard you tried. she was a friend now— yes, but she felt much closer than, and it was all too much for you. this girl was making you feel things you’ve never felt before. safe, secure— like you didn’t have to have everything figured out right now. 

but that’s what infuriated you. not having everything all sorted out and linear made you feel like you were a mess. you’d tidy up one area of your life, and the next would become deranged, off of your path. you had finally figured out your life, and here billie comes, sweeping you off your feet. 

it wasn’t comfortable to feel like this, and you were sure it never could be. you didn’t like how she made your skin feel when she stared at you too long— and how easy it was to stare back. you didn’t like that when she touched you, it made your nerves light on fire, half out of annoyance at yourself and half out of anxiety. 

it wasn’t a crime to appreciate beauty, you knew this. but what was a crime (or so it felt) was appreciating it to the extent of wanting to be the only one to see it. to be the only one who could talk with her the way you do, to smile and laugh at her jokes the way you do, to keep your skin pressed against hers the way you do. 

your dilemma was what to do with yourself now. everything felt a little blurry, so unclear, like everything you’d kept so dear to your heart was now just a distant memory. it felt out of the question, when you really should be considering it most. 

well, what did you value most? feelings, or faith? truth, or temptation? 

you weren’t sure now. and that’s what made pesky and hot tears bubble in the corner of your eyes, what made you slip further underneath your sheets, wishing you could just disintegrate into them, your thoughts and feelings following. 

your bed was suffocatingly warm now. it felt like you were burning alive— and you weren’t sure if it was because it was actually hot or because of the thoughts swirling in your mind. it was as if the mattress had turned into a bed of coals, each fiery ember igniting the guilt and shame festering inside you. you tossed and turned, trying to escape the unbearable heat, but it clung to you like sin.

it felt too fitting, in a way. the warmth reminded you of every sermon you’d ever heard about fire and brimstone, about straying too far from the path and finding yourself engulfed in flames. was this what it felt like to drift? to teeter on the edge of everything you believed in?

you couldn’t shake the thought that this heat was deserved, that it was your punishment for letting your feelings spiral out of control. the suffocating warmth of your bed felt like a taste of the consequences you feared, and no amount of shifting or turning could make you feel any lighter.

but you knew yourself better than that, you knew your faith all too well. you knew you’d find yourself back on your path one way or another— because you always have. you’ve always figured it out, no matter how hard you tried, no matter how many late nights you laid awake, fingers tucked against your Bible and praying until your voice croaked and your eyes wept. 

but tonight felt different. heavier. your faith was the foundation that had carried you through so many storms, but now, it felt like it was shaking under the weight of everything you couldn’t even say out loud. you could barely even think about them without feeling sick to your stomach— much less speak them into existence, because then that made them real. 

thoughts weren’t a sin, but actions were. and as much as you could imagine what it would be like to run your fingers through her hair, to kiss her, to hold her— it’d better not weave itself into how you acted. it’d better not become habitual. 

your thoughts swirled like a storm until you felt sick of tossing and turning. they were crashing into each other, leaving you stuck in this cycle of confusion and guilt, and you longed for sleep to undertake you, to leave you with peace for just a few mere moments, if your anxiety allowed it. 

you loved God, you lived for God— but it felt oddly strange that you were souled out for something you couldn’t see, couldn’t touch. you knew that deep down it was what you believed, and nothing was wrong with it, but doubts crept in. everyone had doubts— whether or not they’re with the right person, whether or not they should eat this or that for lunch, but this was so much bigger than that.

you felt like a spider in a cage. though you could easily slip through the cracks, though you could easily set yourself free, you remained captive. the illusion of being trapped in this confinement, this box that you allowed yourself to be shoved in— that’s what kept you stuck. and you hated it. 

could you not do both? could you lean on faith and feelings? how could something so minuscule dictate your life? 

things seemed so black and white. there was no mix— there was no gray with God, it was always either this or that. if you choose these feelings above Him, was it eternal damnation? would He still love you after all your faults, selfish desires, your confused prayers at night? 

it wasn’t just about billie. it was about you —the parts of yourself you’d spent years trying to bury, trying to pray away, hoping they’d dissolve into nothingness. but they never did. not really. and now, with billie here, with her laugh and her eyes and the way she made you feel so seen, those parts were louder than ever.

you finally rolled onto your side, staring at the dim glow of your phone screen across the room. ignoring her text wasn’t going to make the feelings go away. you could block her number, avoid her altogether, but what would that really change? the problem wasn’t her, no— it was you.

billie wasn’t confused about who she was. she didn’t spend her nights tossed within her bedsheets, hoping and praying that her feelings would melt. you could envision her laid on her back, limbs outstretched on her mattress, dreaming peacefully about any and everything. 

oh, how you longed to feel that way. how you longed to be content with who you were, even if it wasn’t perfect. even if you did mess up, if you were wrong— or even if you were right. but fear encapsulated you. it strangled you until you lost your breath, it had wrapped itself around your soul, coiled itself around your thoughts, made you beaten and broken until your limbs felt weak.

living in fear was preferred by no one. but it kept you in line, kept you on a straight path. and if that was what it took to make you as seemingly perfect as possible, you couldn’t complain. 

it’s four in the morning when you almost fall asleep. you were so close— almost in that temporary paradise, your body nearly collapsing in the soft velvet of your sheets. but then you feel your heart groan and your eyes water, and your mind takes you to places that you hadn’t been in so long, old feelings and memories collecting dust in the back of your conscious. 

you’d known since you were younger, even before you could put words to it, that something about you didn’t fit neatly into the boxes everyone else seemed to fit into. you felt like the black sheep of your community, even though it was a secret that you kept so dear, so quiet that you couldn’t even write it down. 

you remembered being twelve, sitting in the back of a church service, gripping your knees tightly as the pastor spoke about sin, about purity, about love. you remembered how the words cut deeper than they should have, how they made you feel like something about you was broken and beyond fixable. 

“a man and a woman,” the pastor had spoken firmly, like any deviation from those words was an abomination. “that’s what love is. anything outside of that is frowned upon by God.” 

and so, that’s what you believed. that’s what you practiced. 

boys had never appealed to you before, but they did now. if it was favored by God, it was favored by you, too— and you let yourself grow wild. you liked almost every boy that you were around, and they always had interest in you back. you’d playfully flirt, go out on as many dates as you could— but the second they found something deeper, the second they’d tell you how badly they wanted to be with you, you ran. 

you ran because you knew it wasn’t real. it wasn’t fair to them, and it wasn’t fair to you, but it felt like the only way to survive. you weren’t looking for love; you were looking for approval. boys were safe, primitive, easy to explain. no one questioned you when you smiled too wide at their compliments or leaned too close during conversations. no one doubted your intentions because they were what they were supposed to be.

and for a while, you convinced yourself it was enough. you let the feeble attention fill the empty spaces, let the fleeting thrill of being wanted make you feel whole. but it never lasted. no matter how many boys you flirted with, no matter how many dates you went on, there was always that hollow feeling waiting for you afterward. that gnawing sense that you were playing a role you didn’t quite fit into.

because deep down, you knew the truth. boys didn’t set your heart racing. they didn’t make your palms sweat or your stomach flip. they didn’t leave you staring at your ceiling at 3 a.m., questioning everything you thought you knew about yourself.

but girls did.

you tried to ignore it, to push it down, to tell yourself it was a phase or a test of faith or something you could overcome with enough prayer and discipline. but no matter how hard you tried, the feelings were still there, simmering just beneath the surface. and now, with billie in the picture, they were impossible to ignore.

she wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met before— bold and unapologetic, with a laugh that made you feel lighter even when you didn’t want to be. she made you feel seen in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying, and you hated how much you craved it. how bad you wanted it. 

because craving it meant admitting something you weren’t ready to admit. it meant acknowledging that the life you’d carefully constructed for yourself might not be the life you were meant to live. it meant stepping into uncharted territory, where nothing was certain and everything felt like a risk.

and you weren’t sure you were brave enough for that.

so you kept running. from the boys who wanted more than you could give, from the girls who made you feel too much, and from yourself most of all. you ran because staying still meant facing the truth, and the truth was messy and complicated and scary as ever.

and now, years later, those same feelings had crept back in, wrapping themselves around your chest and making it hard to breathe. was it wrong to feel this way? to feel drawn to someone who made you laugh so easily, who made the world seem a little less daunting? to want something more than the lines of scripture could explain?

your faith was supposed to be unshakable, unwavering. but right now, it felt like it was cracking under the weight of your heart, and you hated yourself for it. you wanted to be better. stronger. you wanted to want the right things, the things you were supposed to want. but billie made it so hard.

you pressed your hands to your face, letting out a shaky breath as tears slipped down your warmed cheeks. you didn’t want to be this version of yourself— the one who questioned, who doubted, who couldn’t find clarity no matter how hard she tried.

and yet, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered, soft and persistent: what if it’s not wrong?

but you couldn’t listen to that voice, not right now. not when everything you’d ever been taught, everything you believed, told you otherwise.

by the time your thoughts fall dead and slumber almost captivates you, your alarm clock jolts against your nightstand, making a groan slip between your teeth. it was five, and that meant it was time for morning Bible study. 

you felt your whole body ached as you sat up, running a tired hand through your untamed hair. your steps feel hallow and slow as you reach for the light, flicking it on gently and squinting at the sudden glare. 

you had to focus. it was a new day, with new opportunities to grow, with new possibilities and endless outcomes. you couldn’t keep letting your fears trap you, prevent you from making your days exponentially better than the last. 

‘This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.’ is what pushed you to pad across the cool floor of your dorm room, plopping into your desk chair with your tired eyes fixated on your Bible. 

the cover was worn and beaten, little sticky notes and page markers flooded between the sheets of the book, nearly every line highlighted in specific and special colors. 

you used to find peace in that. and you knew that you could find it again, as long as you stopped being so hard on yourself. you just needed to relax, to fall back in habit, to let yourself breathe a fresh wind. 

so you flipped your Bible open, landing in Psalms— a place you often went when your heart felt too tangled to sort out on its own. “Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” you whispered the words aloud to yourself, the quiet atmosphere of your room soaking the sound up, your throat dry and scratchy. 

but as you read, the usual familiar comfort didn’t come. instead, the words seemed to blur together, their meaning slipping through your fingers like water. it was like they had no weight to them— like you were just reading to read. nothing made sense anymore. 

you let out a heavy, frustrated breath, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip so hard that you were sure you’d draw blood. your mind wandered back to the night before, to billie’s text, to the way her laugh lingered in your memory, warm and inviting. you hated how easily she crept into your thoughts, how she made you question things you never thought you’d have to question, how bad she made your inability to focus. 

you shook your head, trying to regain your thoughts and start over. you placed your finger on the next line of scripture, your head aching from concentration. 

“Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me.” is what comes next. the verse was supposed to reassure you, like it usually does— but instead, it felt like a plea, a desperate attempt to cling to something solid while your world felt like it was tilting off of its axis.

what if you were being cast away? what if your feelings for billie, these things you couldn’t control, were pulling you further and further from God? the thought made your chest tighten, guilt curling in your stomach like it was alive.

your hand froze on the page, your breath hitching. these thoughts felt like a betrayal, like a crack in the foundation of everything you believed in, everything your entire life had clung to. but all your questions and skeptics remained, undeniable and persistent, and no amount of prayer or scripture seemed to silence it.

you closed your Bible gently, resting your hands on the cover as you leaned back in your chair. your eyes drifted to the window, where the first hints of sunrise painted the sky in soft hues of pink and gold. it was beautiful, serene— a stark contrast to the living chaos inside your head.

you wanted to cry again, to let the frustration and confusion pour out of you until there was nothing left. but the tears didn’t come this time. instead, there was just a deep, aching exhaustion that settled over you like a heavy blanket.

you couldn’t think, so you prayed. it was like second nature to you, and you had your hands clasped so hard that your knuckles popped. 

the silence stretched on, and for a moment, you thought you might get an answer. but none came, just the quiet hum of the world waking up around you.

eventually, you stood, stretching your stiff limbs before heading to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face. the chill jolted you awake, chasing away the last remnants of sleep.

you glanced at your reflection in the mirror, taking in the dark circles under your eyes, the redness clinging to the edges of them. you barely recognized yourself, and that realization stung. you let out a thick sigh before heading back to your dorm, peeking into emma’s ajar door, hoping she’d be awake and willing to talk. but she was dead asleep. 

you sighed and pulled your phone off the nightstand as you walked back to your own space, billie’s message still sitting unread in your notifications. you stared at it for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the lit screen, but you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. 

your heart felt like it was waging a war against your mind, one side pulling you toward her, the other screaming for you to stay away, and draw to what was true. 

but before you could make a decision, to text back or to not— your alarm buzzed again, pulling you out of your thoughts. you sighed, setting the phone back down and grabbing your notebook instead. if you couldn’t sort out your feelings, maybe you could at least start your day right.

you sat back at your desk, pen in hand, and wrote the only thing you could think to write: God, I don’t know what to do. I need You to guide me. Please, show me what’s right.

it wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was all you had. and for now, it would have to be enough.

✧ 8:50 am ✧

you weren’t really sure how you managed to stay awake this long. 

it’s almost nine when emma emerges from her bedroom, dolled up head to toe, her red hair pressed straight and resting gently against her shoulders. it was such a huge contrast from your gray leggings, pink hoodie, and bare face, but you still smiled when she walks into your dorm, grinning from ear to ear, “morning, sunshine. you sleep good?” 

you nearly tell a lie just to keep the peace, but it wasn’t worth the immense guilt that you’d feel later. so you shrugged, “i didn’t sleep.”

“why not?” emma questions, twirling the ends of her hair around a freshly painted fingernail, “what’s going on with you? you’re being awfully weird.” 

you shake your head at her defensively, “i’m not being weird?” 

emma squinted at you, her grin faltering as she studied your face. she didn’t speak for a second, but when she was done reading you, she cocked a brow, “you can’t lie to me, y/n. we’ve been best friends for years. and plus, you’ve got that look on your face.” 

“what look?” you asked, trying to play dumb as you picked at a loose thread on your hoodie, trying to avoid eye contact. 

you had really had enough of the pestering with her. was it so hard to leave you alone?

as much as you want her to shut up, though— she continues, her eyes narrowing. 

“the look you get when you’re overthinking really bad or you’re hiding something and you won’t tell me. is this about class? or—” she paused, narrowing her eyes even further, “hold the fuck up, is this about billie? again?”

your heart stuttered in your chest, and you immediately busied yourself with your phone, pretending to be scrolling aimlessly through apps you weren’t even paying attention to. all you could really pay attention to was the unanswered text on your phone. but you still shrugged her off, “not everything is about billie, okay? you’re like, obsessed with talking about her.” 

emma tilted her head at you with such slit eyes, you really didn’t know if she was actually looking at you. you knew deep down that you were projecting, but it seemed like the only way to push your feelings aside and be content for once. 

your best friend took a shaky breath, leaning against the edge of your desk like she was gearing up for an interrogation, “dude, what’s your issue? i mean, i ask you genuine questions to try to understand your situation, and you talk to me like i’m a fucking idiot, or like i’m the one that’s being all cold and sarcastic. fine, whatever— i’m done asking you questions. i’ll leave you alone, since that’s what you want so bad.” 

the room felt thick and heavy after emma’s outburst, her words hanging in the air like a hazy fog. you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. your throat croaked and cracked and you almost shed a tear, but instead, you sat there, frozen, clutching your side as guilt started to gnaw at the edges of your chest.

it’s one thing to be going through something alone, but it’s another to drag someone else into you— especially emma. you felt horrible because through any and everything, no matter the degree, she was always there for you. and this is how you repay her? with mistrust and secrecy? 

“emma, wait—” you started, but she waved you off, pushing herself up and grabbing her purse, slinging it over her shoulder with little to no care. 

“nah, it’s fine. really. i get it,” she said, her voice tight as she turned toward the door. she doesn’t face you when she speaks, she just shrugs, “you don’t want to talk about it? cool. i won’t bring it up again. ever.” 

she wasn’t yelling, not at all— but the calmness in her voice made you feel even more sick. it was the kind of tone that meant she was hurt but refusing to show it, and it made your stomach twist. you felt like your body was caving in on itself, all this stuff with billie was bad, but now emma’s mad at you, too? you felt like you were losing your grip and there was nothing you could do to stop. 

“em, i didn’t mean to—”

“save it,” she cut you off rapidly, her back still turned as she opened the door. 

and then she left. 

she didn’t wait for you to get up and run to her, to throw yourself in her arms and cry to her about how much pain you were in— she just…left. 

you rose a cold hand to wipe your watery eyes before lifting yourself off of your mattress, grabbing your belongings before heading out, starting your walk to your 9 a.m. 

it was a cold and companionless one, too. jules wasn’t there to humor you with her dry wit and dark toned jokes, no naomi to offer up her sweet spirits and constant laughter, no oliver to make you feel safe and included, even though he never talked much. 

but what killed you— what hurt you the most, is that there was no emma to tease and poke fun at you, even though you always claimed that you hated it. there was no emma to always ask you ‘are you okay?’— and not just to fill a silence, but because she actually cared. 

there was none of that. you were alone, the opposite of what you wanted to be, but it was like you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t stop yourself from being pushed into isolation, it was snowballing and squeezing you so tight with no opportunity to escape. 

emma’s absence felt louder than anything else. you replayed her words to you in your head, her sharp tone even more spiked than you had experienced beforehand, the way she didn’t even look back at you  before shutting the door making your lips curl downward. 

save it.

two words that cut deeper than she probably intended, though you couldn’t really blame her. not entirely, anyway. you had pushed her away. you’d been cold, defensive, and for what? to protect a secret you weren’t even sure you could define?

your steps felt faltered as you reached a quiet path lined with trees, the golden light filtering through their branches. it was a place you usually loved, a rare pocket of peace on a campus that always seemed to escape the loud, the too crowded. but today, it only reminded you only of how isolated you felt.

you pulled your phone out of your pocket, your thumb hovering over the screen. you choked up when you saw a picture of you and emma at your high school graduation— she was making bunny ears behind your navy blue cap, both of you smiling as you held her side tightly. 

you let out a quiet sniffle, unlocking the device and clicking on your messages to keep yourself from crying, especially right before class. but there it was again— billie’s text. the one you still hadn’t answered.

it was such a simple question— if you wanted to hang out or not, but it held so much weight. you thought about emma’s accusations, about the way your chest tightened whenever you thought about billie. she was right— you were being cold and sarcastic, and insanely secretive, even though she was only trying to help you, like a good best friend would. 

you thought about how easy it would be to type out a response, to say yes, to meet her and let yourself drown in whatever this was. whatever little thing you had going on— to let yourself bask in it, to enjoy it, because that’s what you deserved. 

but you didn’t. you didn’t respond to her text. instead, you locked your phone and shoved it back into your pocket, quickening your pace as you approached your building, pushing the doors open and heading to your class. 

when you reached the hallway to your classroom, the familiar smell of coffee and old books hit you, and you tried to let it ground you. the lecture hall was already half-full, students chatting, scrolling through their phones, or flipping through notes quickly, preparing for tests and quizzes. you walked into your psych class and found an empty seat near the back, sinking into it as you unpacked your things.

your professor’s voice droned on as the class began, but you couldn’t focus. your notebook remained blank, your pen hovering uselessly over the page. your mind kept wandering back to the morning, to emma’s disappointed face, to billie’s unanswered text, to the gnawing uncertainty that had taken root in your chest.

you thought about how easy it had been to run from boys. to shut them out when they got too close, when they wanted more than you could give. it was almost second nature, a defense mechanism you’d perfected over the years.

but with billie, it was different. you didn’t want to run. you wanted to stay, to see where this could go, even if it terrified you. even if it meant confronting parts of yourself you weren’t ready to face.

your pen pressed into the paper, the ink smudging messily as you scribbled aimlessly, trying to distract yourself. but the more you tried to focus, the more your thoughts spiraled.

is this what it feels like to lose yourself?

the thought came unbidden, sharp and cold. you stared down at your notebook, the words and lines blurring together as your vision swam.

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. you couldn’t fall apart here, not now. not in class, and not when the day had only just begun.

the lecture dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. you were completely lost, missing virtually everything that your teacher was saying. you tried to hold out as long as you could, but to no avail, you were just…confused. 

when class finally ended, you packed up your things quickly, keeping your head down as you made your way out.

the hallway was crowded, voices and footsteps blending into a chaotic hum. you slipped through the throng of students, little ‘excuse me’s and ‘i’m sorry’s slipping through your lips as you bumped into shoulders and bags. your mind was still tangled in a mess of feelings you couldn’t untangle, and it felt just like this hallway was— a blurry sea, a messy mix, a path almost impassable. 

and as you stepped out into the sunlight, the weight in your chest felt heavier than ever, pressing down with every step you took, every move that you made. 

you contemplated on skipping class, but the fear of your grades slipping was what kept you pushing down the sidewalk, and you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize emma was perched on a stone hedge, chatting with some guy from her class. 

she gives you a glance, and then she sighs, looking back at the brunette with sparkling eyes, completely unaware of your presence as you kept walking. 

it made you feel horrible that she was upset with you. she was doing just what she said— dropping it. just like you wanted, right? 

but deep down, you wished she just pushed one more time. asked you how you were feeling again, and you’d finally tell her— you’d break down in her arms and hold her, letting all your confusion and doubts fall at her shoulders. but it was too late now. 

your next class is math, and it’s definitely your easiest, so you don’t stress about being attentive. you find another seat in the back and pull your phone out, lost in recent texts and instagram posts that you had ignored from the night before. 

you really needed to make a solid decision. this constant confusion wasn’t in your favor, and living in constant fear and frustration wasn’t ideal. but everytime you think you’re set on something, it fades into gray, and doubts began to creep in. 

it was driving you absolutely crazy. 

you sniffle quietly, slumping further into your seat that you’re comfortable, but not enough to make it seem like you’re not paying attention. though your teacher can sense otherwise. 

“y/n?” 

“hm?” you hum back, and your professor gives you a cocked brow, her eyes beaming into your own. 

“the answer?” she asks you, and the class’ mumbles fall silent, “are you paying attention?” 

“uhm…” is all you say, your eyes welling up. she just offers you a look of disappointment, “we have a quiz friday. please pay attention.” 

you give your teacher a slow nod, and that was your breaking point. you slumped your head into the desk, tears flowing silently down your face as you tried to keep your sniffling to a minimum. a frown meets your lips as you hope and pray this class goes by quicker than it feels. 

when it finally does end, professor walkins meets you at your desk as you grab your things, her hand resting on the wooden surface, “is everything okay, honey?” 

she can see right through your teary eyes, even though you nod your head at her. the last thing you needed was to appear seemingly off to everyone around you— especially people that didn’t even know you at all. 

“i’m sorry that i embarrassed you,” mrs. walkins apologized, “i understand now. but whatever it is, it’ll pass. have a good day, sweetie.” 

and then she’s off, her heels clacking against the floor with her briefcase in hand, slipping through the door. you follow her after a second, down the hall with your earbuds tucked in your ears, thinking about her words longingly. 

whatever it is, it’ll pass. 

you wish it just would already. 

the hallways are still just as crowded as they were after your first class, but you thanked God that you only had two classes today, because you didn’t really think you could hold it together much longer. 

you’re walking out the building when you see a figure slumped against a brick wall, a cigarette in hand and long, black hair flowing in the autumn wind. it’s billie. 

you hadn’t expected to see her all day, and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding her. but of course, her being her— she finds a way to pop up randomly, right when you don’t need her to. 

she’s effortlessly beautiful as always. her hair is braided on the sides, though some loose strands find themselves engulfed in the wind, curling around her face. her eyelashes look long even from a distance, and she’s clad in a pair of baggy jeans paired with a navy blue sweater, a white tee underneath. a tote bag slouches on her shoulders as she takes another drag of her cigarette, and you try your hardest to go unnoticed by her, your eyes captivated by her. 

you want to look at her forever. she’s so pretty that it feels like it’ll hurt if you take your eyes off her, but you feel your heart squeeze with guilt as you blink, debating whether or not you should go up to her and say something. 

but you couldn’t push everyone in your life away. she was the only person who wasn’t upset with you or pestering you with a bunch of questions, and you longed for peace, even if it was just for a moment. 

you looked down at your phone, and nothing but a Bible app notification waited for you. no calls or texts from emma, naomi, oliver, jules— you literally had nothing from anyone in your entire friend group. 

“hey, little drummer girl.” 

your eyes travel to billie’s figure that’s still slumped against the wall behind her, her head now turned to look at you. her cheeks are red due to the harsh winds that float through the air, her eyes blinking rapidly to keep the cool breeze from making tears form in her pretty, blue orbs. 

you bit your lip, really hoping that you could’ve stayed out of her view for just a second longer. you only liked looking at her when she didn’t notice— because then, she couldn’t look at you back. and you could stare as long as you wanted. but now that she had noticed you, she’d offer that eye contact that she always did— the kind that made your heart flutter, made your mind wander, made your pupils grow. 

neither of you move for a second. and then you step forward before you can really think, your nikes scuffing the pavement as you find your own spot on the wall next to billie. you flash her a weak smile, “hi, billie.” 

she seems to elate in the way you say her name, or maybe it’s the way you dragged over to her so quickly— whatever it is, it’s enough to soften her edges. she just shakes her head at you, “your class just end?” 

“yeah,” you nod, shoving your hands into your hoodie, “math. not eventful at all.” 

billie hums, and you expect her to tell you about how her class was, but she doesn’t. she’s quieter than usual, and you can infer that it’s probably about the message that she sent you, which was still…unanswered. 

and now that you were standing in front of her, it made things a little more awkward. you tried to muster up an excuse to brush things over with, but you came up with absolutely nothing. 

the air between you felt hot, like tension was raining on the both of you. you just stayed silent for a moment, watching as billie took another hit of her cigarette, her lips pursing like she was thinking really hard about something. 

your heart was pounding in your chest. you couldn’t think straight— if billie was upset at you, that was pretty much it. you’d have virtually nothing left, and even though the two of you were only beginning to get close, she was a good friend, and had a caring spirit. 

you take initiative to speak, and you’re honest when you do so, “i saw your text.” 

billie pauses for a second. she takes another slow drag of her cigarette, the smoking curling around her face and fading into the wind as her eyes flicker to yours, “yeah? and?”

you can’t mess this up. you can’t keep running, avoiding everyone who actually cared about you, and you definitely couldn’t keep pushing everyone off just because you were going through…whatever this was. so you take a deep breath, shifting on your feet, your fingers curling into fists in your pocket.

“and… um, i didn’t know what to say. or—” you hesitate, the words catching in your throat. was it too soon to be so honest? 

you take a deep breath.

“i just didn’t want to say the…wrong thing.”

billie’s brows knit together slightly at your words, her expression almost unreadable as she watches you. she takes you in— your somber eyes, your withdrawn body language— she studies you, like she always does. her cigarette lingers between her fingers, smoke curling up into the air like a question mark. you feel your chest tighten under her gaze, her silence pressing into you harder than any words she could ever say.

“why would you think you’d say the wrong thing, y/n?” she asks finally, her voice softer than you expected. there’s no edge to it, no sharpness— just genuine curiosity. it’s almost worse because it means she’s taking you seriously, she called you by your name, and that’s almost unheard of. 

you glance down at your shoes, scuffing the toe of one against the pavement as you search for words, but they’re somewhere in the back of your mind, buried beneath layers of doubt and second-guessing.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, your voice hardly even audible, “i just… i guess i didn’t want to mess things up. billie…i’m…i’m confused.”

there. you said it. the truth hangs in the air between you, raw and vulnerable, and you can’t bring yourself to look at her. not yet.

billie lets out a small sigh, one that sounds more thoughtful than frustrated, and it makes you glance up at her, just for a second. her lips are pressed into a faint line, her head tilted slightly as if she’s trying to figure you out.

“you’re not gonna mess things up,” she reassures you, and there’s a certainty in her tone that makes your chest ache. “at least, not with me. i don’t know what’s been up with you, but… i don’t scare off that easy.”

you want to believe her, but the knot in your stomach tightens anyway. it’s not just about billie— it’s about everything. your friends, your classes, your entire life feeling like it’s slipping out of your hands faster than you can hold on. faith was the only anchor you had, and even that felt like it was fleeting— like you really had nothing left.

nothing but these jangled emotions that you couldn’t figure out.

“it’s not you,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. it was kind of untruthful, but you didn’t care. it was already a blessing that billie was listening to you right now, so you tried to get at least some of your emotions out, practically begging for advice.

“it’s… everything. i feel like i’m messing up all over the place, and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t even know where to start. i’m a wreck.”

the confession spills out of you before you can stop it, and you bite down hard on the soft inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. the last thing you need is to cry in front of billie, but the lump in your throat is making it harder and harder to breathe.

billie doesn’t say anything right away, and for a second, you think you’ve said too much. you think she’s going to brush you off or change the subject, but instead, she shifts her weight, her shoulder bumping yours lightly.

“start small,” she says, her voice low and steady, “you don’t have to figure everything out all at once. just… take it one step at a time. one thing at a time. you seem like the type of person to drive yourself batshit until you’re bruised and beaten. yeah, don’t do that. don’t do it to yourself.”

her words aren’t groundbreaking or revolutionary, but something about the way she says them— the calm certainty in her voice— makes you feel like maybe she’s right. maybe you don’t have to have all the answers right now, and that’s okay. 

your problem was that you never let yourself feel for too long. it wasn’t like you were numb, but you weren’t always present, either. you always thought that you were running out of time, and every mess-up or mishap was cutting it shorter and shorter. but you couldn’t do that anymore. these aren’t the types of feelings that you solve just within a few days, no— they linger, they sting, and getting rid of them or making sense of them altogether wasn’t something that would just happen overnight. 

you strived for perfection, and it wasn’t really your fault. it was all you had ever known.

growing up, your best wasn’t enough— because you could always be better. you could always make better grades, say long prayers, memorize more scriptures. and you worked at it everyday, fixing and molding yourself into a box that even you were too small to fit into. 

you aimed for perfection, but it was never enough— because better always lingered just out of reach, whispering that you were still falling short, but looking back to make sure that you were still chasing it. 

you feel your chest tighten.

you glance at billie, and she’s looking at you, her blue eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. it’s almost too much, the way she looks at you like she actually cares, like she’s not just saying this to make you feel better but because she means it.

“i’m serious,” she adds, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “you’re tougher than you think, saint. you’ve just gotta give yourself a break.”

you let out a shaky breath, her words settling over you like a warm, heated blanket. it doesn’t fix everything— it honestly doesn’t even fix most things— but it makes the weight on your chest feel just a little bit lighter.

“thanks,” you say softly, and it’s not enough, but it’s all you can manage.

billie shrugs, taking another drag of her cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stamping it out with the heel of her sneakers, “anytime,” she says, and you know she means it.

the two of you stand there for a while, the silence between you no longer heavy but something closer to comforting. the wind picks up, tugging at your hoodie and billie’s loose strands of hair, and for the first time all day, you felt safer. more secure. 

“so…” billie starts, “what’s this little secret that’s making you like this, anyways?”

it hurts not to tell her. after everything that she’s said, after she went all soft on you, you almost feel inclined to tell her, but you hold your tongue, avoiding words that even you yourself haven’t admitted. 

her voice is light, teasing, but her eyes are locked on you, blue and piercing, like they’re sifting through every layer you’ve built carefully to keep the truth hidden. you feel the weight of her question settle in your chest, pressing hard against the fragile walls you’ve tried so desperately to reinforce.

you swallow, your throat tight. the words are there— just barely formed, barely coherent— but you can’t let them out. not here. not right now.

“it’s nothing,” you mumble, your hands fidgeting in the pocket of your hoodie, fingers finding loose threads to pull at anxiously, “just… stuff.”

billie raises an eyebrow, unconvinced at your statement, “stuff?” she repeats, leaning her shoulder against the wall further, wrapping her arms around her body, “you’ve been walking around like a fucking zombie, and you expect me to buy ‘stuff’? come on, virgin mary. try harder.”

you wince at her words— not because they’re harsh, but because they’re not. she’s right. and her tone is steady, patient, even playful, and that makes it so much harder to hold back. you almost feel inclined to confide in her, but you hold your tongue.

“i’m fine, billie,” you say, forcing a smile that feels heavy, “really.”

“you’re such a bad liar.” she says after a beat, her lips quirking up in a small, but sad smile.

your stomach twists, and for a moment, you think about spilling everything— about the guilt that weighs you down, the doubt that claws at your insides, the way your heart aches and your mind won’t stop spinning. you think about telling her how you feel like you’re falling apart, how you’re scared that if you let anyone see the mess inside you, they’ll walk away like everyone else seems to.

but you can’t. so you lie. 

and for the first time, you don’t really feel guilty about it.

“guess i’ll have to work on that,” you say instead, your voice quieter than you mean it to be, “but it's still nothing.”

billie’s done fighting it. she sighs when she looks at you, though you can tell it’s full of understanding. she leans in closer to you, her hand lightly brushing your own as gives you eyes that are scribbled with words that you can decipher, even though she doesn’t say them. you just know. 

you had to get out of this headspace, out of this environment. it wasn’t good for you. 

you felt sick, yet numb all at once. your heart was aching like none other, every nerve in your body felt like they were dying on you, like you were frozen. 

but you can’t go on like that. you can’t keep pretending like isolation is preferred by you, like being alone is your remedy for the exhaustion you were feeling. 

you don’t move away from billie’s light touch. you bask in it for a second, “billie?”

she hums at you, her eyebrows quirking at the sound of her name. it falls sweetly off of your tongue, and you let your eyes bore into hers for a second before speaking lowly, quietly. 

“can we still hang out?” 

the smile that creeps onto her face is priceless, and she tries to keep her composure as she nods fervently, “i’d thought you’d never ask, sunday school. yeah. let’s go.”

you nod at her, walking beside her as you make your way to the student parking lot. billie doesn’t say much when you leave the building together, her steps slow and deliberate. you follow close behind her in silence, her tote bag slung lazily over one shoulder, the faint scent of cigarette smoke still clinging to her sweater. it’s not uncomfortable, the quiet between you two— billie has a way of filling silences without saying a word. but it still makes your stomach churn because you know she’s waiting for you to speak first, like she always does. 

“so… where are we going?” you finally ask, your voice a little louder now as you trail a step behind her.

“you’ll see.”

the walk to her old, black mustang isn’t far. you can tell it’s one of those vintage cars that people go crazy about, and the model makes you examine the vehicle with curiosity as she unlocks the door. it smells faintly of lavender air freshener and leather, mixed with a little smoke, and the mix of scents makes your nose flair. 

you climb into the passenger seat, pulling your hoodie tighter around you as billie starts the engine, reaching to flicker on the heat before looking at the road intently, pulling off into it. the soft hum of the radio fills the space, some indie song playing faintly in the background.

the drive is honestly not that long, but it feels like forever. you don’t ask where you’re going again, too caught up in your own thoughts to care. you’re just happy that you’re finally going out, happy that you’re giving yourself the chance to escape yourself and relax a little bit.

“i’m gonna take us somewhere that’ll calm you down a little,” is what billie says as she pulls off an exit of the highway and onto the main road again. that gets you a little bit more giddy.

you’re hoping that she’ll take you somewhere that you’ll find a little peace— a bookstore, church, maybe even to God himself, but the smile that has found its way onto your face quickly fades when you pull into a huge brick building, with red lighting that looks like your absolute worst nightmare.

it’s a rage room. 

as billie pulls into a parking spot, you let out a vulnerable whine, “billie, really? a rage room?”

“you’ve never experienced real peace until your throwing shit against the wall and screaming your heart out,” she giggles, putting the car in park and pausing the music, “you’ll like it. i promise.”

you feel cool air wisp against your face as you open the passenger door, circling back around billie’s car as you both start to walk in the building, “i’m gonna hate this.” 

she just giggles at you, her laugh strong and reassuring, though you’re face doesn’t even flinch. this wasn’t what you had in mind at all, but you’re here now— so you might as well make the most of it, you think. 

as you both step inside the building, the cold air from the outside seems to follow you in, hitting you with a rush of discomfort as you glance around. the walls are lined with shelves of broken, donated items, but the most expensive ones are locked up, probably just for display. there’s a pool table in a separate room to your left, and to your right is a bar with people sitting on red and black stools, listening to soft jazz and laughing as they take sips from their drinks. it's loud, chaotic, and everything inside your mind is screaming to leave, but you try to hold it together as you and billie step up to the front.

a clerk behind the counter, with a bored expression on their face, glances up at you both before clicking some button on the register, “do y’all want the couple deal?” they ask, with a rehearsed tone and very tired, droopy eyes.

billie glances at you before answering, her eyes glinting with mischief. and then she shrugs, “yeah, sure, why not?”

you blink, slightly taken aback by her quick agreement. the words settle in your mind, making you think for a second. it’s not the kind of thing you’d expect someone to do in the heat of the moment— but then again, billie was always the type to go with the flow, to not think twice, especially if it meant saving a few bucks.

but still, couple deal? that’s what this place calls it? you can't help but wonder for a second, what does it mean for her? does it feel like something meaningful? was it just about saving some money? you glance sideways at her as she hands the clerk her card, and the thought quickly slips away. she’s too calm about this— she honestly doesn’t seem to care, so why should you?

the clerk nods and hands billie her card back, muttering a slow ‘follow me.’ as billie leads the way further into the chaos of the establishment. you can feel the weight of uncertainty creeping up on you, the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead seeming to hum louder as you pass the racks of broken, smashed objects, and your stomach flips in a way you can’t ignore. what kind of place is this, really? the air smells faintly of old dust and something metallic, mixed with alcohol and smoke, and your nerves feel like they’re tightening with each step that you take.

billie’s excitement is almost tangible. she’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes glinting with that spark she always has when she’s onto something she’s sure you’ll hate, yet she knows you’ll secretly love. secretly, because you haven’t fully let go yet. you haven’t let yourself give in to the absolute absurdity of this place.

the clerk motions for you both to follow, guiding you over to a corner of the room where various protective gear is lined up— thick plastic helmets, gloves, goggles, and heavy jackets that look like they belong to someone working with power tools. you pick up the jacket, feeling its weight in your hands before sliding it on. it’s heavy, and as you zip it up, it feels more like a costume than something that’ll actually protect you from the wreckage of sharp objects and whatever else this place had for you to throw around.

you glance at billie as she straps a helmet over her two dutch braids. she’s grinning like a kid in a candy store, and for a moment, you almost wish you could share her enthusiasm. but you don’t. the look on your face has ‘i want to go home’ written all over it as she looks at you, giving a playful wink that’s so contrast from how you’re feeling underneath this gigantic jacket and helmet.

“you ready to break some shit?” she asks, her voice practically bouncing with energy as she shook out her arms, watching you slide on a pair of thick goggles to protect your eyes. you swallow, tightening the straps of your gloves as your heart pounds in your chest. you’ve never felt so out of place, so off-kilter. there’s something wrong about all of this, something about the whole idea that makes your insides twist. what is this even supposed to fix?

but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to be the buzzkill— not wanting to ruin this for billie, who’s already bouncing on her heels, waiting to see you finally let loose and throw something across the room. you sigh and force a smile for her, though you’re hardly feeling it.

“i mean, i guess,” you mumble, “let’s do it.”

billie’s grin widens at your answer, and you wish you could feel it too— that spark, that joy she gets from the chaos of whatever you could call this place. but right now, all you feel is the weight of the unknown, the tension in your shoulders, the knot of anxiety that wraps around your throat.

the clerk leads you both into the actual rage room. it's a huge space, walls lined with thick, cushioned coverings, and in the center is a table stacked high with glass bottles, plates, mugs, and other objects begging to be destroyed. it’s all there for the taking— for the throwing, the smashing, the shattering. your feet feel impossibly heavy as you step inside, like you're walking into a trap that you led yourself into. you can feel the weight of your own breath underneath the thick jacket that swallowed your whole frame whole, shallow and quick, as if your body knows that something’s about to happen.

the clerk gestures to the pile of objects, “pick what you want,” they say with a shrug. “nothing’s off-limits. have fun.”

and then they’re off. 

billie wastes no time to get active. she picks up a wine bottle and taps it against her palm, eyes shining with mischievous excitement, “you pick something too,” she says, tossing the bottle lightly in the air before catching it again, “we’ll throw it at the same time.”

you look at the pile of objects, feeling strangely detached from every single one of them. there’s a weird sense of distance between you and everything in this room. what’s the point of this again?

but then, you reach for a plate. it’s small and unassuming, a simple ceramic dish that’s decorated with an intricate pink and blue lining, painted on the perimeter. you hold it in your hand, turning it over, weighing the weight of it in your palm. it’s just a plate— just a thing that could be easily replaced, something that’s meant to hold food, to be useful.

but right now, it’s in your hands, and the urge to throw it across the room— to hear the crash, to watch it break into pieces— suddenly seems strangely satisfying. you glance over at billie, “let’s do it.”

she cheers at you, her stance becoming heftier as she readies herself to hurl the bottle against the wall.

“ready? she asks you, and when you nod reassuringly, she’s ready, too. 

“one, two, three!”

you raise your hand and swing it as hard as you can, your ears splitting as you hear glass and plastic crack against the wall. your plate and billie’s bottle crash all at once, and at first, you feel a little guilty. 

billie lets out a laugh, her leg raising as she claps at you, “fuck yeah! do it again!”

you’re trying to collect your thoughts, looking at billie, who’s already swung another bottle against the wall, the shattering sound ringing out like a loud cheer. she’s laughing, loud and free, picking up things and smashing them onto the ground like there’s no tomorrow.

can you let go, too?

the question lingers in your mind as you reach across the table to pick up another plate. billie’s looking at you now, waiting for you to throw it. she knows you’re hesitating, knows that you’re struggling with this whole thing just by the look on your face. but she doesn’t push you. instead, she just stands there, the light of anticipation still burning in her eyes.

you take a deep breath, a shaky one, as your fingers tighten around the plate.

“you sure you’re okay?” billie asks, her voice softer now, sensing the tension that’s still there. you nod, though it’s half-hearted, because you’re not really sure if you are. but she smiles again, a little softer this time, and for a moment, you forget all about the chaos, all about the fear of breaking.

maybe it’s just about the release.

you throw the plate. it doesn’t fly the way you imagine it would this time, but it hits the wall hard enough, sending shards flying across the room in a messy explosion. the sound of it is loud, harsh, and something inside of you shudders, but it’s not bad— it’s not as bad as you thought it would be.

billie cheers, clapping her hands, her smile wide and unguarded, “hey, see? i told you you’d like it!”

you don’t know if you liked it, but the rush of breaking something— of letting it go, just for a moment— does something to you. you’re usually much more reserved, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way the plate had laid victim to your throw, how it crumbled so quickly against the wall. something cracks open in your chest, just enough to let the air in. you feel lighter, in a way. still unsettled, still unsure, but alas, lighter.

billie picks up a plate that’s a little bigger than yours, ready to throw it herself. you can’t help but watch her, the way she seems so in tune with this whole mess. she doesn’t care about the mess, the chaos. she just wants the release.

you wonder what it would be like, to let go that easily. to not care about what comes after. to just be.

you want it too.

as billie throws the porcelain— the sound of it smashing against the wall echoing through the room— you can’t help but feel a flicker of something inside of you. it’s not peace. nothing of that sort. but it’s something. and maybe that’s enough for now.

the next few minutes pass in a blur of noise, motion, and broken things. billie and you are tossing objects back and forth, laughing manically as you throw things across the room, your arms feeling lighter with each smash. the tension in your body begins to ebb away, and for the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is completely empty— just the satisfying sound of glass shattering and the feeling of letting go.

billie’s face lights up with each throw, and she grins at you after each object breaks into a thousand pieces. “you’re getting the hang of it!” she shouts over the noise, her voice half-laugh, half-scream. her eyes are wild, her hair falling out of her braids as she throws another bottle, the force enough to send it flying across the room. it crashes against the wall with a satisfying thud, and she jumps, her laugh echoing.

you can’t help but laugh too, the sound a little less guarded now, a little more free. your body moves on autopilot as you pick up the next object— a ceramic mug, its chipped edges jagged in your hand. you feel the rush of adrenaline again, the beat of your heart quickening as you swing it towards the wall, flinging it as hard as you can.

crash!

the mug shatters, and for a second, you stand there, your breath coming faster than it should. the world around you is loud, but you’re starting to feel lighter, like all that tension you’ve been carrying is slowly starting to fade. billie’s right there beside you, giggling, grabbing more stuff to toss. you both keep going, throwing, screaming, until your arm aches and your throat is sore from all the yelling.

then, in the middle of a particularly wild throw, your hand brushes against a jagged piece of glass. the sharp sting of pain lances through your palm, and you gasp, pulling your hand back instinctively. the glass shard had sliced across your skin, leaving a thin but pretty deep cut.

“oh my gosh!” you scream, clutching your hand as blood starts to trickle down your fingers, crimson red dripping onto your leggings.

billie notices immediately that you’re hurt, her eyes flicking to your hand, “whoa, hey— are you okay?” she says, her voice immediately serious, her playful demeanor melting away like snow in the beaming sun as she takes a step toward you.

you nod, gritting your teeth. “y-yeah, it’s just a cut. i’ll be…i’ll be fine.”

she frowns, shaking her head, “no, c’mere and let me see.” 

before you can protest, she gently grabs your injured hand, inspecting it with a mix of concern and attentive focus. her touch is soft, and for some reason, it makes your heart race in a way that feels entirely out of place.

this wasn’t the time for that.

you take a sharp breath, the intensity of the moment settling in your chest. “it’s not that bad,” you say, trying to downplay how hurt you were, but there’s something in the way billie’s holding your hand— tender and careful— that makes the air between you two suddenly shift.

"you're really hurt," billie murmurs, her voice quieter now, and the seriousness of it hits you harder than it should. you swallow hard, your pulse picking up again, but this time it’s different—slower, deeper.

“it's just a cut,” you say again, but it comes out softer this time. billie’s gaze flickers down to your hand, then up to your face, and before you can say another word, she’s pulling herself out of the gear and tossing it onto the ground. you’re unable to even move your arm without it aching, and billie seems to understand that, so she pulls your jacket and goggles off for you, adding to the pile of her own discarded protection. 

she then pulls you out of the rage room, guiding you towards the door with her hand on your arm, another on your shoulder. you follow mindlessly feeling strangely disoriented by how close you’re standing and with the mix of pain that won’t stop shooting up your arm. 

once you’re outside, the cool night air hits you, a sharp contrast to the heat that’s inside. billie leads you over to her car, her fingers still lightly brushing against yours as she pulls open the door and motions for you to sit. you get in, still slightly stunned by how everything literally just shifted in the span of a few minutes.

billie opens the glove compartment and pulls out a first aid kit, all business now, her eyes focused as she looks at your hand, “I’m gonna patch it up, okay?” 

“okay.” you nod, feeling a strange wave of warmth flood your chest despite the discomfort in your palm. you whine as billie grabs a wipe, tearing it open with her teeth before giving you soft eyes. 

“i’m so sorry, but this shit is gonna burn.” she whispers before gently cleaning the cut, and the alcohol content makes you feel like your whole hand is splitting open. 

“i know, i know, i’m sorry.” she apologizes, wrapping a bandage around your palm slowly, sweetly, like she doesn’t want to hurt you any further. her touch is soft, her movements careful and steady, and every now and then, her fingers brush against your skin in a way that feels intentional, like she’s lingering, even if just for a second.

you’re still caught in the aftershock of the moment— of the rage room, of throwing things back and both, of the way her touch feels, of the wild energy between you. you try to focus on the sting of the cut, but your mind keeps drifting back to her, to how close you are, to the way her eyes meet yours with that subtle, knowing look.

she finishes wrapping your hand, her fingers lingering on your wrist as she looks up at you, her expression softer than you expected. “better?” she asks with a small smile, but there’s something in her gaze that makes you pause. 

“yeah…a little better…thanks.” you whisper, your voice unexpectedly shaky as you try to keep your cool, ignoring the throbbing pain that has slithered its way up your wrist. 

billie’s smile deepens as she leans closer to finish the wrap tightly, her breath warm against your cheek, “you sure you’re okay, for real?” 

you want to say yes. you want to pretend like everything’s fine, like you’re not feeling that strange flutter in your chest, the one that’s completely at odds with the chaos of previous events. but the way she’s looking at you makes it impossible to ignore. there’s an energy between you, a spark that’s been there all along, but now it’s real— too real to deny.

and then, before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning in, closing the distance between you and her, your lips finding hers in a kiss that’s sudden and full of heat. her lips are soft, and for a second, everything around you goes quiet—just the feel of her, the pressure of her mouth against yours, the warmth of her body close to yours as she presses against you. 

when the kiss breaks, your heart is racing, your skin flushed and hot. 

shit. you’re in trouble. 

billie pulls away, her eyes dark, her lips slightly parted as she looks at you, “y/n?” 

you sit up abruptly, the energy shifting immediately as you run a finger over your lips, and tears are already forming. your mind is spinning, your chest is pounding, and you can’t deal with this right now— can’t deal with the weight of it all, the electricity between you that’s starting to feel way too heavy for you to bear. without another word, you grab your things and storm out of the car, slamming the door behind you, your breath coming fast and uneven as you walk quickly, walking to somewhere, anywhere that can get you out of this situation. 

billie watches you go, calling after you, but you keep walking. your breaths come shallow and uneven as you pull out your phone. there’s only one person that can help you fix this, one person that can make a good enough cover up after the horrible thing that just took place.

you click on your contacts and hold the phone up to your ear, hoping and praying that they pick up.

you hear the line connect on the other side, and your breath hitches as you hear a deeper voice sound through the device, “hello?”

“oliver,” you breathe out, “i need your help.”

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[horsechestnut]

I think my ideal Steph, Cass, and Tim dynamic would be that they're all best friends, but they can not all hang out together. Like, if you ask any one of them who their best friend is they genuinely will not be able to pick between the other two, but all three of them together triggers each of their insecurities in the worst way and always leads to a fight.

Like, Steph and Cass are so affectionate with each other, and constantly flirting and Tim assumes their teasing, but what if they're not, and oh god is he third wheeling on a date between his ex-girlfriend and his sister? They don't actually want him here, they invited him to be nice and he was to oblivious to realize it wasn't genuine. He should leave. But before he can come up with a believable excuse they've changed topics and... hang on, did Steph just say her dad threw a book at her once? Because so much of Steph and Cass's relationship is built on an understanding that they won't make a big deal when they mention something messed up about their past that they just say stuff like that, but Tim does not have that same understanding. So Tim hears that and instead of rolling with it, it's "Steph you can't just say that like it's not a big deal... why is Cass laughing? You can't laugh at that it's fucked up! I don't care that it was a long time ago!" And now Cass is confused and Steph is angry and Tim feels like shit for probably ruining what they wanted to be a date and frustrated that he's being treated like he's overreacting despite being the only one with a normal reaction to child abuse. Mostly he's terrified that he screwed this whole thing up somehow and neither of them is going to want to hang out with him again.

Meanwhile Steph and Tim are so intrinsically linked to each other. They've shared things they will never share with anyone else, they were each others first love. And Cass understands that, she does, but it's hard sometimes seeing how easy they are with each other. The way Steph knows Tim's upset without having to read his body langue the way Cass does or Tim can predict exactly how late Steph will be to any given situation. More than that though, what truly makes her want to hide away from them, is the history they both had but didn't share. The sly comments about Tim looking like a character Cass has never heard of or jokes that make no sense but send Steph into laughing fits. The kind that when she asks are brushed off with "it was an old meme" or "just a show from when we were kids". The reminders that she isn't normal, she can never really be like them. If she doesn't ask most of the time it doesn't occur to them to explain, it seems so obvious to them. They start doing a synchronized dance from some movie that came out when they were in middle school and Cass slips away into the shadows. Later she gets a string of concerned text that slowly turn angry when she doesn't answer. Cass never tells them what was wrong.

And it's hard for Steph to look at Cass and Tim and not feel jealous, because more than just being friends, they're siblings. They are full members of the club, Bruce's children, let into the fold in a way she never can be. She doesn't even want to be anymore if she's being honest, but it still stings. They'll casually mention family dinner or reference inside jokes from the last Wayne charity whatever and Steph will feel the growing desire in her chest that she can not, under any circumstances, let anyone see. The desire that has caused her so much pain, she will not give it control over her again. And Cass calls Tim Robin sometimes, and he calls Cass Batgirl in return, and Steph has to bite back the urge to scream at them that she was Robin too! She is also a Batgirl! But it doesn't matter because she wasn't Cass's Robin or Tim's Batgirl, and it drives her insane that they're romanticizing that time, because don't they remember how much of an asshole Bruce was back then? And now Tim is mad at her for bring up the past as if they're not the ones who started it, and Cass is assuring her that Bruce has changed, and maybe he has, but it's to fucking late! He already ruined any chance of Steph every feeling fully comfortable with her place in their lives. So she storms off, fuming, leaving a baffled Tim and Cass to go enjoy their stupid family dinner.

So yeah, they are best friends. They all love each other more than they know how to say, and trust each other more than anyone else in the world. But they can never all hang out together. That only ever ends in disaster.

[rie-092]

Hi, here I reader an he Creep lycris and (i hopenits okay 2 characters) but I love the idea of the Eclarcks vrothers being ivsessed woth Penelope's maid! Reader.

And they tried to get notice, in a bad or good way. Reader takes care and actually loves Penelope and just want her mistress tk be happy uu

EVENT'S ENTRY OO2 : CREEP

[ yandere! eckhart brothers ]

note: here's the link of the event (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)!

let's start with derrick. he was the first one who noticed you. let's just say that you and him was childhood friends since you started working in the eckhart estate since you were a child.

at first, to be honest. derrick finds you annoying. but seeing you being happy and friendly towards his little sister. it struck something inside him.

and that was when he realized, ah, damn you. he was falling hard.

expect that derrick, despite of being prideful, will be very needy. hell, you're not even lovers but he will start demanding for your attention.

he will start calling for you everyday, despite of being busy with your work. and what's his reason? simple, because he wanted to ‘play’ with you.

well, technically you guys just spend times while reading books or drinking teas. but for derrick it was everything.

and that was when reynold eckhart entered the scene.

unlike his calm and collected older brother, reynold was fucking cute, i mean, a mess when he's in front of you.

it all started with a small crush and that was when he started following you around like a puppy. dude, this guy really loves headpats and compliments. so you better shower him with compliments!

he likes playing with you and yvonne! but it's just annoying to have derrick playing the dad role while you play the mom role when yvonne wants to play house.

since they were children. they haven't really realized that their affection for you were— how will i describe it? darker? or unhinge?

derrick was the calm and calculated one while reynold was the violent and cranky one. to be honest, they are not really jealous to each other. sure, they want your attention for themselves but— nah, nah, in derrick's eyes, reynold was too childish to be your type. while in reynold's eyes, his brother is too sophisticated to fall for you.

expect that they will be more handful when yvonne disappeared. they will be more clingy. because reynold wants you to comfort him while derrick was preventing you to disappear like yvonne.

and that was when penelope entered the scene. when the duke was finding a suitable maid to serve penelope. you were with derrick that time. he saw how your eyes shone as you looked at penelope.

no, no, no! he kept telling to himself that you only reacted like that because you miss yvonne. there's no way you find that thing adorable!

but the next day, he was surprised when he was informed by his father that you became penelope's personal maid. how dare her—

what about reynold? well, he doesn't really give a fuck. sure, he still hates penelope taking his sister's place on their family. but seeing you actually enjoys serving penelope.

honestly, derrick and reynold was really different when it comes to you. reynold was the soft one, heck, he won't hurt anyone or you physically and verbally if you give him the attention that he wanted. but once he saw you paying attention to anyone that is not him or derrick? you should expect to see his violent side.

while derrick is the unhinge one. he doesn't care who it was, if you don't pay any attention to him. the hell, this guy would lose it. i mean, the last time you went to the festival with your male friend. he tortured that thing in front of you (and hell, he was so close on doing that to penelope if you're not that overprotective over her).

and you? who is stuck in the middle of this two brothers who is like a ticking bomb? you only want one thing. and that is for penelope to be happy.

but unknown to you, penelope actually wants you as much as her siblings wanted you. but don't worry! she is willing to share you with reynold. but not with derrick.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ we want you to notice when we're not around, (name). ”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 2

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

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Later that day Bucky drove Y/N towards his family home.  He opened the front door and led her inside.  “Ma?” he called out.  “Autumn?”

“We’re in the kitchen!” his mother called back.

Y/N felt nervous.  She hadn’t seen Winnie in years.  They had kept in contact at first, but eventually the letters stopped coming, which she now realized was probably around the time Autumn was born.  She still had them buried in a shoebox in her small pile of things she kept.  Y/N followed Bucky to the kitchen, looking around and seeing how little the house had changed since she last saw it.

“Hey Ma,” Bucky greeted her, kissing her cheek before turning to a girl standing at the sink.  “Hey lovey dove,” he said, hugging her and kissing the top of her head.

“Hey Daddy!” Autumn greeted him, hugging him back.  “We’re making cookies!”

“And eating them faster than they come out of the oven, I’m sure,” he joked.  

Winnie smiled at him then turned to see Y/N, gasping and dropping the spatula in her hand.  “Oh!  Oh it can’t be!” she squealed, running around the kitchen island she was standing at.  Y/N smiled widely at her as she approached.

“Hey Ma,” she greeted her quietly.

“Sweet girl,” Winnie said, cupping her face in her hands.  “Y/N?  Oh!” Winnie hugged her tight, rubbing her back and petting her hair as she held her.  Y/N fought back a rush of emotions that almost made her cry.  Winnie looked so much older than the last time she saw her, but her eyes were still vibrant, her smile still easy, just like Bucky’s.  “You’ve been away too long!” she cried.  

“I know,” Y/N agreed.  “I’m sorry.”

“Daddy, who’s that?”  Autumn whispered loudly to him.

Bucky chuckled and brought her closer to Y/N.  Winnie let go of her so Autumn could see her better.  “Autumn, this is my best friend, Y/N,” Bucky introduced them.  “Y/N, my baby Autumn.”

Y/N smiled widely at her.  She was beautiful, inheriting her father’s eyes and dimpled chin.  Autumn smiled shyly at her.  “Hello, Autumn.  It’s so nice to meet you.  I love your name,” Y/N greeted her.

“Thank you,” Autumn said.  “Oh!  You’re the lady on Daddy’s book!”

Bucky huffed a laugh.  “Right, yeah, she wrote it,” he explained.

Autumn looked at Y/N excitedly.  “That’s cool!  Are you rich?”

“Autumn!” Winnie chastised her.

Y/N laughed.  “It’s okay,” she said.  “Uh, yeah, kinda rich,” Y/N shrugged.

“Cool,” Autumn sighed.

Winnie had them stay for dinner, talking to Y/N about everything that she had been up to, and giving her updates about everyone in town.  “So what’s your plan now?” she asked.

“Well, honestly I don’t know,” Y/N said.  “Bucky is being very gracious in helping fix my car in exchange for me taking care of Autumn for a while…if that’s okay with you, Autumn?”

“Yeah!” Autumn cheered.  “You can come watch my softball game!”

“I’d love to,” Y/N said.

After dinner and goodbyes Bucky drove Y/N and Autumn back to his home.  Y/N smiled at the small house.  “You bought Mrs. Richards’ house?” she asked.

“Yeah, fixed it up real good, lots of renovations over the last few years,” he said, grabbing her bags he’d taken from the Beetle.  

Y/N followed him and Autumn inside.  The house was well decorated and well lived-in, with little messes strewn about.  She looked around, taking in the house and smiling.  “Alright, lovey dove, time for bed,” Bucky said, gesturing to the stairs while looking at Autumn.

“Aw, Daddy,” Autumn whined.  “I wanna hang out with Y/N.”

“Well, you can hang out with her tomorrow after school,” Bucky said.  “Now say goodnight and git.”

Autumn stuck her tongue out at him, and he did it back to her.  Y/N chuckled as Autumn approached her and hugged her.  “Goodnight, Y/N,” she said, then looked up at her.  “Will you read me one of your stories?”

“Oh, well, uh,” Y/N bit back a smile, Bucky covering his mouth with his hand, stifling a laugh.  “Mine are a little too grown up for you.  But I can read you something else.”

“Okay!” Autumn nodded, then turned and hugged Bucky before running upstairs.  “I’ll call you when I’m ready!” she shouted.

“Alright!” Y/N replied.

Bucky sidled up to her, nudging her arm.  “Aw, you don’t wanna read her one of your great stories?” he teased.  

Y/N glared at him.  “Shut up,” she whispered.

Bucky snorted.  “I’m glad she likes you.  I mean, she’s pretty friendly anyways, but she seems to be excited about you watching her for a while.”

“She’s great, Buck,” Y/N smiled at him, nudging his arm back.  “You’re a good dad.”

Bucky looked away.  “Well, I don’t know about that,” he said quietly.  “But thank you.”  They stood silently for a moment before he stooped down and grabbed her bags again.  “Let me show you to your room.”

She followed him up the stairs to the first door on the right.  “This is the guest bedroom,” he said, holding the door open for her.  “Next door is Autumn, and I’m across from her.  Bathroom is at the end of the hall.  It’s a full bath, so you can shower there, and if she’s in there you can always use mine,” he rattled off, setting her bags on the bed.  “I usually take her to school on my way to the shop in the mornings, but school gets out at 3:00 and I’m not off until 5:00, so you can use my car to get her and either come back to the shop or take her around town, my mom’s house, or come back here, whatever you want, but then you’ll need to come pick me up.  Sound good?”

“Yep,” Y/N nodded.  “It’s the least I could do.  You’re being very kind to me, Bucky, thank you.”

“Anything for you, honey,” Bucky smirked.  

“Y/N!  I’M READY!” Autumn screamed from her room.  

Bucky rubbed his face harshly in embarrassment as Y/N laughed.  “Coming!” she called back.  “Duty calls,” she saluted Bucky and walked to Autumn’s room.  

“Alright, what’s the bedtime routine?” Y/N asked once she was standing next to Autumn’s bed.  

“A short story, a song, and a kiss goodnight,” Autumn said, counting on her fingers.

“Yes ma’am,” Y/N said, turning to the bookshelf.  She read Autumn a short story then kneeled by the side of the bed.  “What’s your favorite bedtime song?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  Daddy sings all kinds of songs,” she shrugged.

“Okay, well let me think…do you like Princess songs?” 

“Yeah!” Autumn smiled.

“Who’s your favorite?” Y/N smiled.

“Rapunzel,” she replied, snuggling into her comforter.  “From Tangled.”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded.  “How about, ‘I See the Light’?”

Autumn nodded fervently.  Y/N started to sing the song softly, leaning on her elbows on the bed.  She reached up and ran her fingers through Autumn’s hair as she sang.  Autumn’s eyelids fluttered closed, and by the end of the song she was snoring.  Y/N stood slowly so as not to jostle the bed, then leaned down and kissed the top of her head.  She turned to see Bucky watching her from the doorway.  

He smiled and walked in, passed Y/N and leaned down to kiss Autumn’s cheek before turning back and taking Y/N’s hand and leading her out of the room, closing the door quietly.  He faced her in the hallway.  “For somebody who doesn’t have kids, you’re good with mine,” Bucky smirked.

Y/N scoffed.  “I never said I didn’t want kids.  I just didn’t want them yet.  Though I guess I’m running out of time, aren’t I?”

“Oh yes, ‘cause you’re so old,” Bucky teased.

“So old,” Y/N rolled her eyes.  

He looked her over for a moment before opening his arms and hugging her.  This hug was different from the first one earlier that day.  He held her tenderly, squeezing a little as her head nestled into the crook of his neck and her arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him back.  She had missed her friend.  And if she were being honest with herself, the childhood crush she had buried was broiling in the pit of her stomach.  Bucky kissed the side of her head and pulled away to look at her.  “I missed you,” he said quietly.

“I missed you, too,” Y/N replied.  

Bucky smiled again then pulled away.  “Well, let me know if you need anything.  I’m just, right here,” he pointed at the door beside them.  

“Got it,” Y/N said.  “Goodnight, Buck.”

“Goodnight,” he said.

They stepped around each other and walked into the rooms.  Y/N quickly got ready for bed, then sank into the bed with a heavy sigh.  She was happy to be in a good place, with good people, and as small as Woodstock was, it was familiar and comfortable.  She settled into the blankets as she let sleep overtake her.  She was home.

[greenerteacups]

I can't help but giggle how Ron and Harry in LH both doubt Draco's feelings for Hermione when it's, like, the complete OPPOSITE of what they think. Harry's being all big brother-y like about Hermione and how Draco should treat her right and respectfully or ELSE whilst Ron in the latest chapter assumes he's playing around with the poor girl.

And in reality I'm pretty sure Draco is envisioning his and Hermione's wizardesque wedding for the past 2 books.

Can't help but love the boys' obliviousness in regards to feelings here.

Also goes to show how Draco truly opens up only to Hermione in the most profound-est way. I love them.

Oh, yeah. I think I wrote this in a reply to a comment on AO3, but Ron and Harry are very good people afflicted with Teenage BoyBrain, and in Harry's case, Brother Instinct wherever Hermione is concerned. So they assumed that if Draco and Hermione like each other but aren't together, it's because Draco's not being an upstanding young gentleman, not because (as is the case) Hermione's indulging in a bit of age-appropriate emotional terrorism.

There are also broad gaps between (1) what Draco reveals via narration, (2) what he reveals to Hermione, and (3) what he reveals to Harry and Ron. They know each other very well, but Draco plays his cards so close to the chest — especially when it comes to the whole "if you're important to me it means I'd firebomb a hospital for you" thing. He has this unspoken idea that the moment he admits he cares for someone, they're immediately going to get snatched away by the long hand of the universe, which in fairness to him is informed by certain events that make him not totally wrong. (You might also attribute this to his taste in people, however, which trends towards the reckless and the driven; cue moth/flame metaphor, etc., etc., you all know.) So that's why there's about a half-year lag between whatever Draco recognizes in his own emotions and what everyone else in the story seems to believe: that's about how long it takes Draco to get comfortable broadcasting his feelings.

By the middle of fifth year, both Harry and Ron are full aware (as the chapters reveal!) that Draco cares for Hermione, but I think both boys project themselves onto him, to the detriment of their understanding (as most teenagers do). Ron reads a little more into Draco's possessiveness and jealousy, which are the traits they have most in common (cf. Ch.73). Part of that judgment is Ron's emotional straightforwardness: he sincerely can't imagine any reason that Draco wouldn't be dating her properly if the feeling was reciprocated, so he assumes that there must be some obstacle somewhere, and because he's a bit in love with Hermione in his own right, he obviously assumes the obstacle is Draco. What's Draco's number one problem? He's got a bucket of daddy issues and hangups over his family legacy, especially vis-a-vis public displays of affiliation. And Ron doesn't maybe think Draco's being actually prejudiced here (otherwise, he would have been much, much harsher with him in their argument) but he does think there's a degree of shame or uncertainty on Draco's part that's in the way of them getting together.

Harry, meanwhile, reads the whole situation as a communication failure: he thinks Draco doesn't realize what he's doing, because if it were Harry, messing someone around sincerely would be a cognition failure. It's not outside Harry's frame of possibility that Draco could end up in a romantically charged situationship by accident. And he probably rates higher the possibility that Draco would deliberately maintain a relationship like that to avoid losing Hermione's attention. Notably, Harry doesn't assume that Hermione's particularly hard-done-by in this situation; in fact, his default assumption is that she's where she wants to be, and if she didn't like it, she wouldn't be there. His trust in her is helped by the fact that he regards her as a pseudo-sister, and doesn't have any stake in the love triangle except that everyone treats each other well. For that reason, his final comment on the matter is a plea for Draco to consider how Ron might feel: he wants to remind them that they're friends, because he watched the group fall apart last year over an argument similar to this one (jealousy, possessiveness, and a torturous litigation of in-group favoritism). Harry is provoked to intercede because he thinks there's a danger of the situation blowing up due to miscommunication and leaving all of them isolated when they need support the most — which is naturally something that the increasingly isolated and angst-ridden Harry thinks should be top priority.

Anyway, I love them, too.

[mellowyellow236]

I have made a fic I made for @sunnysidesevenup’s Everend’s Cove: Moonlight Song event. There's some out of character stuff for Arlo, he definitely starts getting a bit further away from his normal self in the ending (I couldn’t figure out how to end it, so he took a figurative bullet for the rest of us) The groovy of the card I’m working on is at the bottom. I don’t know how I finished all of this first. (Quick side note! I only ever write romance, so it reads like that in some parts, but it’s meant to be interpreted as platonic. You are free to read and interpret it however you want, but know the waters were accidentally muddied.) 

(Word Count: 2222) 

~

Yuri huffed, sitting behind Arlo, two drinks in hand. She offered him one as a painfully high-pitched note was hit by the “singer” on stage. 

“No.” He pushed the glass back as she shrugged and drank one, leaving the other on the rock beside where he rested in the water. She rolled her shoulders back with a small pop afterward, sticking her tongue out at the person not even looking at her. 

“I didn’t spike yours. Or mine, this time. I’m not stupid.” 

“That doesn’t make me trust you more.” She hit him lightly on the shoulder. He turned and glared at her. “You look like you did do something. Don’t make me clean up your mess.” She crossed her legs as he uncrossed his arms. 

“Lilia’s mess.” A pause. “Well, he told me he wanted an excuse to do something stupid on stage. Before you ask, I don’t know what.” There was another lull in the conversation before a mutual wince. “Why would you want to come here? It’s a high- No, middle school talent show in disguise.” She casually degraded. He shrugged. 

“I didn’t. My sibling signed me up.” Makes sense. “And there are some good singers. Somewhere, probably. Stop annoying me and go look for them.” She gave him a raised eyebrow before he dropped his glare and turned back around. “And you didn’t ask Lilia what he wanted to do?” 

“You’re a good singer, first of all. Secondly, not my circus, not my monkeys.” 

“You spiked his drink.” He huffed and narrowed his eyes into slits. “I’m not going to be cleaning up the mess.” 

“With his permission.” She pointed out and poked the back of his head. He pushed her hand away before she grabbed his wrist. “And he’s a fae. Nothing I could sneak from the Night Raven to here could do anything to him. He just wants an excuse to be chaotic.” Arlo tugged his hand back. She rested hers on the shore behind him where she sat. 

The conversation fell into a mildly awkward silence once more. Yuri took a deep breath, chilly air tickling her nose and throat. It was a few moments before she spoke up again. 

“So… Your siblings. What’re they like?” 

“Bad.” She stifled a giggle, before pausing at his serious face. She frowned. 

“Like… Bad as in ‘I’m still petty about that thing we did when we were five’? Or bad like… Bad. No good. Horrible family.” 

“Second option.” She nodded and grabbed his arm again, tugging him out of the water. Her face was serious, though there was a hint of fun in her eyes. He glared again as she pulled him. “What are you doing?” 

“You have terrible siblings and parents who are absent from this event. I’m doing you a favor!” She joked, hosting him up. Gleaming, dark scales glowed a shimmering purple in the full moonlight. 

“How is dragging me out of the water when I have a tail a favor.” It was a fairly easy grab him once she got his hands to let go of the large rocks he had been resting next to. 

“Upsy-daisy!” 

“Put me down!” He whisper-screamed, trying not to draw attention to them but still getting his point across. He narrowed his eyes as she snickered and started to skip around the stone jetty, away from where the competition was taking place. 

“No-oh!” She taunted, giggling as she spun with him over her shoulder, as though he was a sack of potatoes. He kicked her with his tail, shining scales hitting soft silk and sparkly golden thread. “You are a sad child who never got the pleasure of being taken out of a school concert early to get ice cream!” 

“Why would I want that?” 

“Because running away from bad singing with the person who’s heard you rehearsing in the shower is more entertaining!” She cackled, bouncing him up slightly. “Besides, your turn to sing isn’t until nearly the end, and I’ve already gone! I’ve got enough time to pull you away for an adventure!” He hit her shoulder, making her drop half of the sash she wore over her arms. She snickered again, grabbing him by the stomach and tossing him up. 

As Yuri spun around, Arlo let out a frustrated yelp, attempting to push away from her grip. The salty air ran around them, giggles echoing across the surface of the water. Arlo couldn’t help but roll his eyes. With a dramatic flourish, she softly threw him into a bush. Granted, a bush with no thorns and fairly soft leaves so he wasn’t badly hurt or cut, but a bush nonetheless. 

“The hell?! This isn’t any fun!” He hit her with his tail, making her grab him before they both fell into the waiting ocean. The ocean was surprisingly chilly, a stark contrast to the warm, humid air they had just been in. 

As they surfaced, droplets glistened on their skin like stars in the night sky, and Yuri couldn't help but laugh at the tangled mess of seaweed clinging to Arlo's tail. It was a bright sound, a real laugh, not contained by the need for silence in a crowd or reputation in the school. The fireflies danced around them, flickering a pale yellow light into the blinding white from the full moon high above them in the star-filled sky. She grabbed his shoulders when he tried to swim away and into the sea. 

 They dove deeper into the water, bubbles floating around them, coming off in ways from laughter and the white noise normal speech had turned into underwater. Arlo attempted to shake her off, but she only clutched him more tightly in response. The ocean was alive with hues of blue and green, illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescence coating his tail. 

They came up once more, if only so Arlo could legably scream “Get off of me!” And attempt to shove her away. She willingly released him from her arms at the point, out of breath and cackling like a madman. Despite being let go, Arlo continued to stay in the area, swimming to the side of her. “Your makeup’s ruined. Did you really not use waterproof eyeliner?” She poked his head softly, pink-tinted purple nails hitting deeper purple scales. 

“I didn’t think I’d get dragged into the sea.” 

“I didn’t drag you anywhere, you grabbed me!” He hissed. His tail flapped against the water, ripples reflecting the bright moonlight that shone in from high above. 

“Oh please. I haven’t done anything wrong, you’re just my baby brother.” She bumped into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“I’m not your anything-”

“Who I would very much appreciate if he would carry me because I am but a weak maiden in need of assistance!” She loudly cut him off, tightening her grip. It was a losing battle to attempt to leave Yuri without possibly ending up with her dead in the water once the potion wore off, so Arlo just glared and shook his head wildly when she tried to pet him. “A weak maiden who could freeze! How cold must you be to try and leave me alone here! In the open ocean!” She gasped, the arm that hadn’t snaked its elbow around his neck going to rest its wrist over her forehead. 

“I’m still not your brother.” 

“Shut up. My baby brother’s not in this realm, your siblings are apparently the worst, this makes perfect sense. Like Married at First Sight but in a family way.” She shooed him with her hand despite making no move to get off. 

“Do I want to know?” He huffed as she pushed her cheek against his, faces side by side. 

“Do you like reality television?” She poked his other cheek before he was able to respond. “Well, doesn’t matter! You won’t once I’m done with you!” She gave him a slight nuzzle. “And I hope you’ll remember the name of every single divorced couple on there because I will not let you forget.” 

“I’m not going to watch it with you.” She only laughed and dunked his head underwater once more. He took her down with him, turning the pair upside down under the blanket of the dark sea. The cool embrace of the ocean enveloped them and everything felt weightless. The moonlight danced above the water, creating a beautiful source of light for that brief moment before they came back up. At that second, the world was surreal and magical. Arlo glanced over at her as they broke the surface again, water cascading off his scales and her skin. 

Her laughter mixed with the sounds of the ocean until he joined in a mild chuckle. She pinched his cheeks, pulling him closer to her. “See? This is so much better than being back at the concert.” He only let her go, and with a pink back, spoke. 

“Fine. If you’re so insistent on games, I’ll race you back to the shore.” He spoke she let him go for once so they could swim back to the shore separately. He ended up doing three rounds around her and the shoreline before ‘barely’ getting back onto the sand before her. Water dripped off them and left wet trails in the sand, sticking to Yuri’s clothes and under Arlo’s nails when he clutched them into the pale grains. Arlo lay back in the cool sand and gazed up at the stars, a comfortable silence settling over them for just a moment. 

Arlo then opened his eyes and sat up straight. Yuri turned her pale blue gaze in his direction. 

“And right after I got comfortable, too…” 

“I still need to perform for the competition.” She sat up slowly. 

“…Need to be carried…?” 

“I can swim around the jetty.” She lifted him up and into her arms a second time. While he didn’t try to hit her this time he made his displeasure known through a glare. 

“Nope.” She threw him up for a moment. His nails dug into her shoulders as he hissed at her. The moon shone as she made her way through the path set through circular rocks on the ground. Moss and ferns toughed her feet, as she had long since sent her silk shoes due to the wet conditions of the ground. “This is my job now.” 

“You owe me nothing.” 

“You owe me rights after making me come here.” She jostled him around a bit. A nearby firefly, spooked by the movement, flew away. Arlo caught it, caging it into his hands for a moment. When he opened them, it fluttered out once more. 

“I never made you come here.” 

“Okay, maybe you didn’t, but it was your idea.” He smacked her arm with his tail. She dipped him, to which he attempted to make her stumble by shifting repeatedly, which soon succeeded as she slipped on some plants growing on the almost covered stepping stones and every crack in between them. While they didn’t fall, they certainly managed to knock into a tree once more, sending waves of beautiful beads light swarming away and swimming through the crisp night air. 

They flew through the sky, lighting their path as they continued to walk back to the competition. Arlo paused to stare at them, the creatures foreign to the sea, and yet their glow so similar to his own. Yuri shook her head like a dog, drops flying off of milky white hair. “If you like those, I’ll take you to visit my home someday. They are all over the place every summer.” 

He hummed, “No.” 

“I’ll drag you there anyway.” She set him down on the shore. They were back in their original spot near the back. He swam out, observing the stage. It seems his turn hadn’t yet passed, but was quickly approaching. “Go out there and knock ‘em dead, Cholarlo.”

“Well aware. Don’t call me that.” He narrowed his eyes. She laughed and waved her hand as he swam away, his front still facing her. 

“Arlie?” He splashed her. “Lolo?” A second time. “Ari?” She doesn’t get hit in the face with seawater this time, instead choosing to chuckle. “What does your boyfriend call you? Your darling Neige LeBlache-?” 

“Not my boyfriend. I’m not listening to you.” 

“Baby? Love?” He put his hands over his ears and glared at her. “My dearest heart and soul, Arlo, my little par-” He pushed his way under the water, so he could no longer hear her. He bobbed back up after a moment. 

“How do you know that I like him?” 

“How are you not dating him yet? Careful, I will swoop in and wingman you so hard he falls for me!” She laughed as he hissed, carrying the conversation on with the glass from the drink they had long since left spilled in the water. ”Oh my, Neige, you’re so beautiful, but I bet your sweater would look nicer on the floor of the little cutie Arlo’s room, who’s totally available and just loves you so, so much it’s disgusting to look at because he thinks you’re the most jaw-dropping, stunning, handsome man in the seven seas~!” He swam away and towards the stage, mild disgruntlement showing on his face through a furrowed brow and the usual scowl, leaving Yuri cackling to herself on the surface, a smile etched into her features as the cool ocean breeze blew past her. 

~ 

I don’t know how I half-switched writing styles midway through this. I doubt it’s that noticeable since I went back in and added more details in the first half, but like… It was weird before that. Moral of the story; Don’t write five hours after you usually go to bed. I had to edit this seven times to make it legible, you don’t even want to know. Not to mention the end was, like, 600 words earlier not including added details. This was the “good enough” draft after I gave up making Arlo’s characterization 100% perfect. 

“Cholarlo” is just the word Choleric (“bad-tempered or irritable” according to the dictionary, anything overly annoying and rude according to me) plus Arlo’s name. 

Writing Arlo and Yuri together was fun. They make each other worse by egging the other on with insults. This was half inspired by me reading about Arlo’s personality and thinking that if Arlo ever met Yuri, she'd get really attached really quickly. Her actual little brothers aren’t there to mess with, so she’ll just steal a new one. [More dynamic rambling starts after the drawings because I yap too much] 

*For anyone who’s really into historical Chinese fashion and accuracy looking at the outfit designs: I know that a pibo wasn’t historically worn with cheongsams. The sash isn’t meant to be a pibo, it’s just a sash that ties the outfit together well since without it it’s just an overload of blue and the arms look too bare. For those that aren’t, Yuri is wearing a cheongsam with a western skirt underneath and a sash over/around her arms. 

~

~

Yuri and Arlo are interesting to me because if they ever met, I think they’d get along either really well or really badly. 

Yuri’s a liar by nature. Her main, and arguably only “important” skill once she comes to NRC, is reading people and adjusting her personality accordingly to be able to get what she wants out of them. It’s better seen in my Royalty AU, but in the opposite direction of her normal personality, where she purposefully gets a rise out of those around her. Meanwhile, Arlo can’t lie to save his life, and I imagine that he’d likely not like being around people who do considering how much he seems to dislike visiting his siblings during this event, although that could be for other reasons. 

But even if Arlo doesn’t, Yuri can tell if someone else is lying, and seeing that he’s not… She gets comfortable. He’s honest so she doesn’t need to worry about hurting his feelings by doing the same, and she can bite back without ruining her reputation because he hates everyone. It’s freeing for her to be able to be around anyone who’s constantly telling the truth, and even more if they’re a jerk about it. 

And since he’s caused her to let her guard down, she starts to love bomb, for lack of a better term. Very much the argument of “Well now that you’re here I can’t let you go because if you leave I know for a fact that my real personality is bad and I don’t want to be a bad person so you have to stay” She tries to get him to love her like a sibling so that way she can get away with being moody or annoying, because she’s just his big sister! It’s okay because it’s all in good fun at the end of the day! It’s a desperation to make him care about her back so that way she can prove to herself that she’s doing something right. It’s also something not exclusive to Arlo, as in my canon, Idia and Ace end up getting some of that treatment too. 

I don’t entirely know how Arlo would feel about it, but that’s definitely how Yuri would act with him if they ever met. I assume he’d either like her or hate her, no in between.

[atangledesire]

So it wasn't exactly something she could control? She just picked up things that she saw? still it sounded beyond useful! watch a blackbelt in martial arts and bam your a mater to? Here all she got was a stupid useless second tail! Still She could see how picking up a skill you didn't intend to would be problematic. But used right it could broaden your horizons. Though it sounded like it probably had a limit, and relying on someone elses talents could end up being a bad crutch.

" It still sounds useful, i mean i'd have killed for something like that in school... but awesome all the same! "

She giggled at Sonar and couldn't help but smile at her

" Sooo, you like a good prank is what i'm hearing! i'll have to keep my eyes open just in case! "

Was it a Date, she had to think about it real hard as it was never her intent to take Sonar out. But then she was cute, funny, and smart! She had no idea what her type would have been but, running a few scenarios in her head of them doing date like things. She could say she didn't hate the idea in fact quite the opposite. But then... she was a bit touch starved and, really wanted a romantic partner. Especially since her first couple attempts had ended not so well.

" Well... Sonar i guess we have to ask ourselves. Do we want to try dating? It might be a real learning experience for the both of us... i've very little experience at it to... so we could.. totally mess this up together, and maybe learn a little along the way. "

She held her hand out to Sonar again, only this time it was a little more an offer to try something new, and maybe a little scary together.

" I'm your type right? and ... i think you might be my type... we might regret it for the rest of our lives if we don't at least give it a shot. I don't...really find that offensive hehe, "

She was taking a risk, a big one as she didn't know Sonar super well but they could just---go on a date and see how things went. They already had a drink together, and danced to. What was holding hands, and what ever else they managed to get up to. Plus... She was having fun, and that counted for alot right?

" Hey its ok, we can take it slow... being on a Date isn't like going steady right? its just a couple, out to have a little fun together, in a romantic way... like sharing a drink and dancing... if the movies are anything to go by... "

She smiled softly at Sonar

" And... hey remember? i just spent ages looking for my brother. So i get where you are coming from... i really do. "

She almost wanted to offer Sonar a hug but thought it might be a bit much since only just met. But she hoped maybe sonar would be open to the Idea if nothing else. But either way she would still help her look for her cousin because, to her family was important.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be as sometimes you pick up some weird skills you don't mean to. Like talking backwards or extreme pencil spinning, and don't ask about that one." Sonar had picked up some many odd skills and some are certainly more useless than others. "Though I do like to screw with Spike and Trevor by randomly talking back words. First time I did it was on Halloween. I managed to convince them I was possessed." That was a fun Halloween.

"Hey, I don't mind if it's a date, though I might not be very good at it since this is my first one." Sonar didn't mind, just wanted to be clear one where they stood before things continued. "Well, I'm more into girls and I always found myself eyeing up ladies who do hard work. Oh, what's the word everyone uses? I think it's tomboy? That's not offensive to you, is it?" Let's hope it wasn't now that she brought it up.

"Isn't hand holding and kissing for when you're dating? Don't me wrong or anything. I'm having fun, you're really nice, and I do find you cute. Though dating is super big. Then again I've seen people hit it off fast and start dating after one date so who knows." Sonar just didn't want to rush into things. "Though I guess I should mention I have a lot going on. The reason I left my home village is because I'm looking for my cousin."

[raiidsol]

I love how the rebels family is formed by two jedis, a mandalorian, a lasat warrior, a droid that is a menace to society and hera. like, she is the badass pilot, but she doesn't need a lightsaber or a helmet or claws or droid tech. she's hera. HERA. and to me that's enough to fright anyone.

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.

[virgothozul]

Ok. I have listened to the people. I have watched the thing. It is very wholesome.

Kazu comes home. He is hopeless and tipsy. And he swings between excited and wasted.

[thetiedyedwitch]

Ok. So very THIS, but. Back story. When I was probably 6, I didn't know it, but Mama's mom had been diagnosed with terminal emphysema from complications of asthma, living with wood stoves almost all her life. There were other little bits, but idt the doctors knew much of how to care for her at that time. (Almost 40 years ago, medicine has vastly grown since then). So grandpa used to walk across the street with me to buy something small and have some bonding time with me, to the corner market. One time when I didn't know anything about what was wrong, we walked as usual. But when we got there, I saw a crane machine with stuffed animals (all stuffies and dolls and such I've always called Babies). So I looked at it and found out it took 50¢. I asked grandpa for the two quarters. He and the nice lady at the counter tried to gently let me know in a little kid version of :that game is rigged and it's almost certain you won't win anything'. They were all heavily skewed towards cheating at that time, including the crane claws not physically made strong enough to hold most of the prices inside. I adamantly told them with complete surety that I'm going to get that bear for Mama. Grandpa gave me the quarters. I took a minute to assess the way the Babies were squished together, then carefully got the crane in place and released the claw. I got the bear on the first try, shocking my two person audience. When we got back home, I gave him to Mama, telling her 'this is Bear Bear. He will help you not be sad, and be happy instead ". He became her buddy for then on. He was deeply beloved by Mama until she died. I call him my "little bro". I also had gotten a new store bought Baby around that time, a little later. We were pretty poor. All my babies came from yard sales. I knew this, and actually love that fact. I knew that the kids didn't want the babies, and I wanted to give them a new home, with love. But there was a specific baby I wanted called Magic Nursery Dolls. granny and grandpa would save a bit of change to give me sometimes when I came over. They started saving the change up for the doll (with my knowledge and appreciation). I finally got to go get one. It was November 24th, 1994. I believe it was thanksgiving day. O bought one that Mama many years later told me that the box was kinda messed up and I remember them all trying to get me to get a different one, but as soon as i saw that baby's face i Knew they were mine. (They had a gender reveal of sorts when you got home.) It ended up that someone must have got that baby, cut her hair, then returned her. The company repackaged her to resell. I didn't care, she was MY baby, Kathlene (spelling on purpose to match a middle name that ran in my family's women). She has been my heart friend ever since. Mama and I had actual WTF experiences to do with Kathlene turning over from facing the wall to facing the hallway when we were in the bathroom doing my hair or something. Mama verified it all the way through her life. I have a witchy belief system that basically some Babies are alive, because we love them so much and put love and energy into them, they get a soul. When I go, I'm going to ask to bury them with me. I've talked to Bear Bear and Kathene about this. I told them that when I die, there will be no reason for them to stay attached to their bodies. And that they can release, and come with us to the afterlife. I believe that⁰ Babies can stay or go soul wise, to the degree we can when we die. I have sat with this belief and point of view for years, examining this belief for holes in the reasoning. I don't feel like they will be alone. I feel like they will release the tethers on their physical bodies like I will. (Like humans).

Ever since I was a child, and up to now, I’ve had an intense love of and empathy for stuffed animals. As an awkward and shy only child, they were my very best friends, and I fully ascribed feelings and souls to them, which I still kinda do today (how tf did my autism *not* get discovered sooner?? Did it really have to take 30 years?), I also sleep with a good number of them.

I’m a mortician (I’m dual-licensed as a funeral director and embalmer, but I’m a lab rat and exclusively keep to the back embalming the bodies), and along with embalming, I also dress and put people in their caskets. Very few things bother me about my work, I love it very much. I can deal with just about any disgusting form the aftermath of death takes, but my heart. Fucking. S h a t t e r s. When a stuffed animal is being buried with the deceased. I know it’s ridiculous, but I just can’t stop thinking of how lonely they’ll be, with their only companion dead and rotting, forever. I like to think the “spirit” of the stuffie moves on to a new vessel to be loved again to soothe these thoughts.

This lady I’m taking care of today is being buried with a stuffed calico cat (it’s one of those heating pad bean plushies you microwave). The cat is held in her folded hands, facing her.

My fucking heart. 💔

[palaceoftears]

Magnificent Century Rewatch: One Picspam per Episode

Episode 17: The Double Joy

-My dear mother used to say "walk barefoot on earth and it shall take away all your troubles and sorrows, earth shall give you happiness and joy"

-Your mother spoke well, one can only find peace in earth. But I'm not sure if it is on earth or in it.

[quietwingsinthesky]

Hiiiii! So, a few days ago you were talking about the whole thing with Amy, Rory, and River. And when I saw those posts a thought arose in my head and I wish to share it with you.

Since River grew up with Amy and Rory as Mels. And Mels was Amy's best friend do you think that they ever talked about children? Since I know that it can come up when talking with friends, and like... do you think that Amy might've ever expressed whether or not she wanted children?

And if she didn't, that Mels would've had to listen to her mother say that she doesn't want children? The idea is so heartbreaking and sooo interesting.

What do you think about it?

no, no, see, you're so right and this drives me wild.

because, the way i see it, i don't think amy wanted children. she's somewhere on the 'hasn't thought about it' to 'vaguely negative feelings about it happening' range to me, which falls sharply into 'Not Happening Ever Again' post-s6. (specifically, in terms of having a kid herself, even if she could, i really don't think she would. i do love that she and rory end up adopting a kid later, because that does make sense, for amy pond who grew up alone in one universe with her family swallowed by cracks in time before the doctor helped her set it right again, for her to want to make sure another child won't be alone in the world like she was. getting off-track here.)

and that's so. because the first real memory river/mels has of amy is of amy shooting at her. and depending on how well the silence fucked up the rest of her memory, it might be one of the very first memories she has at all. that's how she met her mother, crying for help and getting a bullet instead. her mother tried to kill her, so of course, you have to think. she must have needed to hear that she was wanted, right? even if she was taken away, even if amy shot her, at some point, melody must have been wanted?

river is good at getting people to do what she wants, but she is very, very bad at subtlety. and mels is younger, has less practice, so when she wants to know this, she's just going to ask. blunt and quick, easy enough because amy's used to the way mels will open her mouth and you just have to be ready to roll with what comes out if you want to keep up. it's why they're such good friends (like mother, like daughter.)

they're nine, and mels asks if amy wants kids, and amy wrinkles up her nose and says she won't have time for children, obviously, once her raggedy doctor finally comes back. they're fifteen, and amy and rory dance will they-won't they in a way that makes mels twitchy to watch, and taunting amy about wanting to have rory's babies is a good way to get on her nerves. but amy calls her gross, tells her she's got more life planned than children would leave room for, and besides, imagine her, a mom? it'd be a disaster.

mels does. a lot. she looks at her mother and just sees her best friend instead. she's not even sure what she wishes was there, but. maybe amy's right. and besides. imagine her, a daughter, instead of the ticking time bomb she really is? it'd be a disaster.

they're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and on. mels stands on the outside of a love story that births a universe. and her. how do you compete with that? not that she would know, not yet, she hasn't been there. but it doesn't make her feel any less alienated when amy and rory talk in whispers about a half-remembered world that's bled through to this life, about roman soldiers and boxes and the big bang of belief.

all these memories, they never mention children. on amy's wedding day, she's different, not like someone remembering a dream but someone who lived it. rory stands straighter, won't leave her side, and they're both so much older than they were yesterday. maybe now, right? a wedding's as good a time as any to decide you want kids.

mels not being at amy & rory's wedding is such an obvious lazy way of them trying to explain why they totally didn't just throw this plot twist together at the last minute that i'm not even going to acknowledge it. of course she was at their wedding. she's their best friend. there's too many people around the doctor, and she wasn't ready today of all days, so despite this horrible burning need under her skin to strike, she stays her hand. doesn't let him dance with her because she might just tear his throat out if he gets too close. stays with amy and rory as the maid of honor should. she must have been there for the awkward questions that always gets asked, 'so, any plans for a baby?' 'when am i getting grandkids?' 'oh, you two are going to have gorgeous children together.' standing a few feet from amy in her wedding dress and watching her mother tense and grit her teeth and brush off the questions. watching her look nervously at rory but never ask if he means it when his mom asks him if he'd prefer a son or a daughter, and rory answers 'either one, some day, not anytime soon.'

god i'm just going on and on, aren't i. but really, what's it like to know that amy never changed her mind. the next time she sees them, she's already been born and stolen. i don't like let's kill hitler for. so many reasons. but there is something compelling about how recklessly river lashes out at the world, at the doctor. even her sacrifice at the end is almost suicidal, throwing all her regenerations into this man without knowing if that will even work or if it might kill her to do it. but it makes more sense in the context of someone who has reached the end of a long, long wait for some kind of indication, any kind, that her mother wanted to have her. and finally been told, no. she didn't choose melody.

[hearts401]

shoutout to cassel and lila for SUCKING!!!!! I HATE THEM!!!!!!!!!