#and then she said that their friendship had fallen apart and this was probably the moment I should’ve RECANTED my 15th second chance

[whalesfall]

thinking Weirdly about that time an ex friend was telling me about how she shittalked me with one of HER ex friends about how I was pretentious and how like, deeply alien to me that was. like I refuse to talk down to people (or try very hard not to) and I have difficulty Distilling shit into shorter sentences because I hate reducing ideas or not being totally clear, which isn’t for everyone but. pretentious?

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter sixteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.6K (You know you love it)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Alot of Angst, Crying, Heartbreak, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Additional Warning: This chapter contains severe amounts of fluff and angst. Ben is SUPER OOC and really soft in this chapter, I will not apologize for that, but I will say you're welcome 😉 If you don't like either of those things, then probably shouldn't read this?

When you wake up you think you dreamed it all, but one look at your blotchy red face in the mirror of your bathroom, dried snot on your shirt, and your inability to find your phone means that it did happen.

Ben was back and you didn't know where to go from here.

Bits and pieces of the conversation explode in your head like fireworks and your grip on the bathroom sink tightens so much that the countertop cracks beneath your hands.

Shit.

You extract your fingers from the marble that crumbled like gravel in your iron grip and glance down at your watch. You’d been asleep for 7 hours, which meant that now it was 10 pm and you probably weren't going to sleep tonight.

As if you could after everything that just happened.

Honestly, you were surprised that you had been able to, but you figured it was just the exhaustion of everything that happened, the heartbreak, the shouting, the tears, the inability of you to let go of the past, and Ben's confession of love that you waited 80 years to hear. You had wondered in the past if he wanted to say it the night that you decided to come with him, if he really did care for you as much as you cared for him all these years. Now that you knew, you wish you didn't. You wish that you could let him go, let go of the things that happened all those years ago, and wish that you hadn't fallen for him and expected him to catch you.

You think about crawling back into bed and hugging your pillow until you fall asleep so you don’t have to think about Ben. You wince at the thought of his name.

He apologized, admitted that he loved me, said that what he did was wrong, said that he wouldn’t leave- The urge to cry lodges in the back of your throat. How do I have any tears left?

You think about how much you wanted to run to him, to throw yourself into his arms, but you knew that you shouldn't want to. Ben broke you. What he did weighed on your heart everyday, but you wanted to forgive him.

How can I still want him as much as I do? How can I want him to fix this even after he did everything he could to push me away?

The look in his eyes when he confessed his feelings to you flashes through your mind in black and white.

Ben admitted weakness, said that he was scared of all things. Ben wasn't afraid of anything.

Over 40 years of friendship meant that you knew every part of him, but the part you had seen in your apartment, him practically begging you to forgive him was not one that you were used to and was not one that you had ever seen.

It was unusual for him to look broken and vulnerable.

The closest you'd ever come to seeing it was on the nights back in Philadelphia when he tapped on your window, on nights when his father gave him a hard time and Ben needed a place to crash. When the look in his eyes made you want to pull him into your arms and never let him go, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he wasn't a disappointment. Because despite everything with Countess, Ben wasn't a disappointment to you.

Everything was easier when you were kids, when Ben would fall asleep beside you in your bed and when you woke up in his arms, you wished that he did it on purpose.

I guess he was trying to say that he did it on purpose. You sigh as you walk into your closet to find a soft t-shirt while avoiding the duffle bag that you threw inside the double doors before you collapsed onto the bed.

But even if he was sorry, how do I know he won’t just act like the boy I used to know and tomorrow pretend he doesn’t exist? It was so easy for him to do that, to say that I meant nothing to him, to act like he didn't care.

You think about the morning after your birthday, when he looked soft and happy in your bed and how quickly he shifted into the cold mask he wore as Soldier Boy. How easy it was for him to push you away and ignore you, act like you didn’t exist and cling to Countess at the premiere.

How do I know he won’t do that again? How can I trust him? How can I forget everything he did?

You think about the night you found him with Countess, think about the moments before at the premiere, when she made you believe that you were the ugly little girl who watched Ben prance around your birthday party with Missy Callahan. Your mind stutters on her name, remembering the last time you heard it in conversation on the night that you wished would never end.

"Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you. Never has been, never will be."

You hear Ben whisper it to you while your song played and remember that it made you feel like you were floating, made you feel understood and seen for the first time in your life. The memory of the night you spent together rises to the surface and you allow yourself to remember, remember how it felt to finally have him completely, how much it meant to you for him to be there with you, and how he made you feel special and loved.

Your jaw clenches as the image of him with Countess sours the memory of the perfect night you had together, as the memory of the words he shouted at you rip through the happy glow you had the morning after your birthday when you told him everything you'd always wanted to.

And then the memory of what he said to you a few hours ago rises.

"We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I'm ready now, I'm not scared anymore. I love you!"

Damn it why does it have to be like this. You clench your teeth together in anger and frustration. Why did he have to do this? Why did I have to love him? Why couldn't he have just stayed gone? Why did he have to come here-

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving!"

The words reverberate around in your skull, shaking through your body like an avalanche, shaking the foundation that you built to push him away. Because you didn't want to. You didn't want him to leave. You didn't want him to leave ever again. But you weren't sure if you could survive again if he did that again. If you opened your heart to him only to have him crush it under his heel all over again.

It was so long ago. 40 years. 40 years that he said he spent regretting what he said that night. We both said things that night.

Sometimes you wondered if Ben was as broken as you were after the fight. You think about how he looked when you went into your room and think about what he said.

Maybe he was.

Apart of you didn’t want to forgive him and didn’t believe that he really understood what he did to you. The other part wanted to leave your apartment and find him, ask him to stay, forgive him and let him back in to your heart.

More frustrated tears slip down your cheeks as you look for a pair of your soft sweatpants. When you walk out of your closet you think about going back to bed again, but you knew that sleep wouldn't come.

Maybe I should call Rosie. She'd be proud of me for not forgiving him, but probably would be mad that he came here. And I should probably tell her that I didn't have to go to Russia.

That thought gives you the strength to leave your bedroom, bare feet padding down the cool floors of the hallway back to your living room. The lights are all off, save from one single lamp on the coffee table next to the plush leather couch, the same one that you'd thrown Ben over when he grabbed your arm.

But when you cross from the hallway into the living room, you realize that you aren't alone.

Ben is sitting on the couch, leaning forward on his forearms, a blunt perched in his right hand where his arm rests against his knee, looking down at his feet. He looks up at you when you walk in, eyes piercing in the warm light of the lamp, familiar in a way that almost makes you start crying all over again.

"What are you still doing here? I thought I told you-" You begin to say, voice hoarse from crying, trying to summon up enough anger to push him away, but then your eyes shift to your kitchen counter.

A pretty glass vase of fresh cut lavender sits on the counter, the sharp clean smell floats through the air soothing the anger and frustration that you drew on to speak.

Despite your age and the way most considered them to be classic, you thought that over the years roses had become generic. But you loved lavender. It reminded you of the country home your family lived at over the summers when your mother declared that the smog in the city was too much and you all needed a holiday. She always seemed softer in the countryside, all the sharp edges of the city melting away. She didn’t snipe at your figure or your paint stained hands, if anything she gave you more freedom. You spent your summers outside in the garden staring up at the clouds missing Ben, painting and sketching, while the smell of the flowers enveloped your senses. You used to send letters to him and some sketches of flowers or small painted doodles after pressing fresh lavender into the envelopes so they would smell like it when they got to him. You wanted him to think of you whenever he smelled lavender.

He remembered how much I loved lavender?

Your eyes shift to the cigar box that lays open next to it, focusing on the slips of paper that seem to spill out over your countertop.

Are those-

You reach into the box and pull out the yellowed pages of letters delicately, eyes drifting across the paper, recognizing your handwriting, remembering the painstaking moments you spent writing them to Ben, hoping that he got them, and hoping that he missed you as much as you missed him. Underneath the ones from the summers are the ones that you sent him when he was at boarding school and then finally the faded pencil sketches and faded watercolor paintings you sent him. Each piece is folded and refolded as if someone continued to look at them over and over again.

Your fingers drift over a small doodle that you did of Ben and you sitting on a bench in Philadelphia, the one that captured you laughing at something Ben said.

It was so much easier then.

“You kept them?” You breathe while looking down at the pages.

Ben stands from the couch, putting out the blunt in one of the decorative glass ashtrays on your coffee table, watching you with the same expression in his eyes that he had when you were there earlier, when you told him to leave and not come back.

"Ben-" Tears begin to fall all over again as you meet his gaze.

"I hated those summers when you were gone. I used to sleep in your room and read the letters." He whispers. "It made me realize how much I needed you in my life. I never needed anyone before." His jaw clenches together as if the thought makes him angry.

“You asked me once why I didn’t stay at those schools. It’s because when I was at all those shitty boarding schools the only thing I could think about was getting back to you, coming back home.”

The word rings in the air between you and you suddenly understand what he is saying, remember what he said the day you were together at your first baseball game and you asked him why he didn't like staying at the boarding schools.

"I don't like being there. It's not home." He had said it so casually, but you remember being confused at his reply, but now you know.

He was saying that home was with you and it made your heart feel like it was ripping itself in half because you were still so angry with him but you didn’t want to be. Not when he was saying the very thing you’d known from the beginning. That being with him was home.

“Ben-“ You say, trying to strengthen your resolve, trying to summon the anger you’ve kept close to your heart for forty years.

"Every time I came to see you, tapped on your window I thought you would push me away, turn your back on me and you never did. And when all this supe shit happened I needed you with me too, that's why I asked you to come with me. Those years before and when we were on Payback, you put up with all my shit. Even when I did horrible things to other people, you stood by me. You know more about me than anyone else, have known me for longer than anyone else-" He takes a cautionary step forward.

Tears continue to fall from your eyes, sobs shaking your shoulders, but you can't speak.

"That night with you, felt different. Even before when we were at that restaurant it was different. I didn't want to leave. It was like nothing changed, like we were in your room again just talking, before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. The only memories that I have from Philadelphia that are worth remembering are the moments I spent with you.  And when I asked if I could come back to your place I-" He sighs rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you would say no, but you didn't. And then you told me that you had wanted me almost as much as I'd wanted you all those years, that you needed me. I always thought that it was only me that needed you."

"Ben I can't-" You voice breaks looking away from him.

Ben is close enough now that his fingers come under your chin to tilt your face up to his. “I shouldn’t have said what I said or did what I did. I didn’t want to need anyone. I thought that I had to push you away because loving you meant I was weak. But it’s not true. Loving you is the only good thing that I’ve ever done and loving you is the only thing that makes me strong.”

You close your eyes to avoid his gaze, you wanted to believe him, but you weren’t sure that you could.

"I've fucked a lot of women in my life y/n, I won't apologize for that. But I've only made love to one." His thumb brushes away another tear that falls from your eyes. "And when you told me that you wanted me to be your first, it did something to me. I wanted to be everything you needed. I didn't want just one night with you. I wanted all of them. When I woke up the next morning with you in my arms, I didn't want it to end. All those nights when I showed up at your apartment, I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to stay with you because it was home. Even when we were kids, being with you in your room it was the only place that I felt like I belonged.”

Your hand can't help but come up between the two of you, resting solidly on his chest. Apart of you wants to push him away, but you can’t.

Ben is still touching your face, holding it up to his. Your bodies are so close together that you can feel the heat of his skin through the air between you. Another tear falls and Ben's thumb brushes it away. The smell of the lavender is intoxicating, broken up only by the familiar smell of Ben's aftershave and soap.

And somehow you find your voice. It shakes, but you hold his gaze. "I hated you for a long time. What you said broke me. I was broken so many years. I still am-“

“Sweetheart-“

“No.” You inhale sharply. “I want to believe you, but I don’t think you understand what you did. I want to believe that you’ve changed but this is exactly what happened that night on my birthday. Don’t you see? How can I believe you? How do I know that you won't pretend to be everything I want, pretend that you’re the boy I fell in love with and then the next morning you’ll push me away and act like he doesn’t exist-“ Tears leave warm trails down your cheeks.  "I’m not strong enough to go through that again.”

“I promise-“

“Ben you’ve promised in the past. And I-“ More tears come. “I’ve tried so hard to put it behind me. I want to believe that you’re still you but I don’t know if I can trust you again like I did.”

"Y/n." Ben looks deep into your eyes. "I didn't pretend that night. The only time I pretended not to care was in the morning and at the premiere-"

"And how do I know you won't do it again?" You sob. "When you think that it's too weak to admit that you care about me?"

"I do fucking care about you."

"You say that now."

"I love you."

"Ben I can't-"

"I said those things because I-" He sighs, shoulders tight in frustration and anger. "I thought that I needed to push you away, that I shouldn't care about anyone as much as I care about you. But I do.  I fucking care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone in my life. I didn’t want to need anyone but I do. I need you. That’s why I kept showing up in your life. That’s why I spent so many nights in your bed. I couldn’t survive the night alone and I needed you with me, even after we took the damn serum.”

“But-“

“That night when you told me that asshole, Howard proposed I knew that I couldn't lose you. I didn't want you to marry that fucker. I wanted you to be with me. He didn't know you the same way I did, he didn't understand you. He didn't deserve you. And the night we danced together I called you ‘my girl’ because I wanted you to be. I wanted you to be mine. Not because I wanted to piss him off. Because I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. You’re the one, the only one.”

You drop your gaze to his chest, sobbing quietly to yourself. Ben tilts your head up towards his one more time, to look deeply into your eyes.  There's an unfamiliar vulnerability that stares back at you, the same one you saw when Ben would come to your bedroom and wait for you to ask him to stay because he thought you would push him away the way everyone else did.

"I promise that I will never do that to you again. I know it doesn't make what I did or what I said okay. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to fix it because I can't lose you. I’ve spent forty years away from you and I don’t want to spend anymore time away. I love you. And I hate that I fucking hurt you this much."

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, hear the raw emotion in his voice, but you’re still unsure.

“Please y/n I want to fix this." He says again.

“I know you do. But you can’t just show up 40 years later And expect to fix it in one night. I know it’s not your fault that you didn’t come sooner but, you hurt me-“

“I know I did-“ his eyes drop to your shoulders as the memory of how he grabbed you that night blankets his mind.

“No not like that. Ben you don’t understand. Sorry isn’t enough. And yes hearing you say all these things was nice but it’s not enough to make me forget everything that happened.”

“But-“

“No. Ben I loved you, more than I’d ever loved anyone I-“ You shake your head tears falling fast. “I lost pieces of myself to make you happy  to make sure that you had someone in your life that cared for you. I stayed for so long with you because it was all I thought I could do. And every time I thought I could leave to do something for myself you would do something to pull me back in like you had a fucking radar and knew oh if I do something that she wants I’ll get her to stay with me a little longer!”

“I knew you were unhappy! I was trying to make you happy! I wanted you to stay with me-“

“By manipulating me?”

“No it wasn’t because I wanted to manipulate you I-“ He exhales in frustration. “You told me that you wanted someone to come home to, someone who loved you, a family, I wanted to give you those things! I saw how you were looking at the other couples, I knew what you wanted. That’s why I held your hand at dinner, gave you the necklace, and that’s why I kissed you-“

“But then you pushed me away. You pushed me away when I needed you the most, when I finally said what I'd been trying to say for years.” Your voice shakes. “I can’t go to bed every night with you and wake up with the dread that you’re going to push me away again and say that I mean nothing. That you’ll be cold and unfeeling and- I can’t do that to myself again.”

“I promise I won’t-“

“I don’t know if I believe you. If I can after everything."

"Please just tell me what I can do to fix it."

"I don't know!" You shout running your fingers through your hair pulling back from him. Because you wanted him to fix it. You loved every bit of the words he said, the love he confessed to you. You loved the way he was looking at you, the way he wanted to make this up to you, but your heart wouldn't let go. It couldn't let go of the things he shouted at you, couldn't let go of the image of him and Countess, couldn't forget how happy you were to tell him you loved him and then he just acted like you were nothing. The words he said that night begin to circulate, bringing you deeper into the dark pit that threatened to swallow you whole, the pit that you'd fallen into when you thought he died.

"Ben I-" Your voice catches in your throat. "I wish that I knew what you could do to fix this. I want you to. I want to forget all of it. And I want to forgive you because I still fucking love you, but I can't do it in one day. I can’t -" And despite your better judgement you crumple against his chest, tears smearing against the front of his shirt, body shaking with sobs, and trying hard to not think how it feels the same as it always has to be pressed against him.

Ben's arms come up around you to wrap you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin as he begins to drag his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

The gentleness of his touch makes you cry harder against him, hold on to him so tight that you think you'll break him in half, but he doesn't complain, he just stands there with you. It reminds you of when he came to hold you in the hotel room when your brother died, when he drove for hours to be there for you. Because despite everything that had happened between you, Ben was always there with you before that night with Countess.

You don’t know how long you standing there together, but finally Ben picks you up and carries you down the dark hallway to your bedroom and deposits you on the bed.

He waits a minute on the edge, standing as if he's unsure, brow scrunched up in frustration and anger.

"I didn't mean to hurt you this fucking much. And I don’t know how to-“ His jaw tenses and he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut like he can't look at you. “I don’t know how to- fuck- I can’t lose you.” Ben grips his hair so tightly you think he’s going to pull it out.

“Ben.” You sigh and despite everything , you stand up from the bed to hug him, allowing him to press his head into your shoulder and hug you so tight it hurts.  It breaks something deeper in your chest because you can see how broken he is, how much he wants to fix this, and how much of him he was willing to let you see.

You didn't understand how he was being so open, how he was allowing himself to be like this after all the bullshit toxic masculinity he usually spouted and how he pushed away his feelings for so long. You wondered if after this he would push you away because you had seen him like this, or if he really did love you and that was why he was doing it.

“It’s okay.” You soothe, running your hands up and down his back. “It’s alright.”

But you’re not sure it is. 

"If you still want me to leave I will. I can sleep on the couch.” Ben whispers. The emotion that flashes in his eyes when he says it, breaks your heart. It's vulnerable and raw, so different that the mask Ben wore as Soldier Boy. “But please don’t make me go.”

"I don't want you to go." You whisper. “Even after everything. I want you here with me, it’s just hard.”

“I’m sorry-"

“I know you are Ben.” You both stand there for a minute and you weigh your options.

You think about making him go back out on the couch, making him sleep alone, but you don’t want that. You knew that you’d spend the whole night thinking about him. And as much as a part of you wanted to push him away, you couldn't. So you do the opposite.

You take his hand and gently entwine your fingers with his. Ben stares down at them for a moment confused, before you sit on the bed, scooting back and tugging softly, but he hesitates.

“Are you sure?” He asks in a whisper, gaze raising from your hands to catch your eye.

You nod once tugging his hand again and this time he follows you down into the mattress.

He slides in next to you beneath the covers, keeping your hands entwined between the two of you so that they are locked against his chest as you face one another on the bed, heads resting on different pillows, but close enough that you can feel his warm breath every time he exhales.

Ben's eyes search yours. “I tried to call after. I picked up the phone but every time I did I couldn’t-“  He sighs. "I was such a fucking pussy. I didn't know what to say. I should have just come over-"

"I wouldn't have let you in." You breathe. "I didn't want to see you, didn't want to see anyone. Stan Edgar tried to come talk to me and I broke his nose."

"Really?" Ben smiles.

"Yeah." You try to smile back, but you can't.

Ben raises his free hand to push back your hair and tuck it behind your ear, but his eyes drop to your shoulders tracing the imaginary bruises that he left behind all those years ago. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t mean to-“

You press your lips into a tight line. “I think that’s the only time I’ve ever been afraid of you.” You say in a whisper. You hadn’t wanted to admit it aloud, but it was true. You had been angry and heartbroken, but the fact that Ben had laid a hand on you, was prepared to hurt you had scared you. It was what solidified that the thought that boy you loved was gone.

But the look on his face breaks something inside you, pain and anguish flashing in his eyes.

"Ben-" You sigh, shifting forward closer to him, but he releases your hand and instead wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest, pressing his head into your shoulder. You know that he can't say what he's thinking right now, but he doesn't have to.

“I also remember doing something to you.” You say because you don't know what else to, you’re not used to seeing him look so broken.

“I deserved it.” He mumbles into your shirt.

“You didn’t deserve what I said about your dad-“

“I did. You were right.”

“Ben you’re not like him.”

“But I am. Everything I did to you, is something he would have done.” He mutters, pulling you tighter against him. “I don’t know how to fucking fix this.”

“This is helping a little bit.” You whisper against your better judgement, while you inhale his shampoo and lean further into his chest. It was weird to be here with him after all these years, after all the years you spent hating him. You didn't want to forgive him, you wanted to be angry but at the same time you wanted to believe him, you wanted to believe that the boy you fell in love with was still there.

And laying here with him holding you the way you always wanted him to, made you remember that boy.

“Yeah?” He breathes, raising his head from your shoulder.

“Mhmm.”

You lay there for a minute in his embrace and it's like he never left. It's the same as when you were kids and you laid in bed together. And finally you say. "As angry as I am, I still love you. You matter too much to me for me to let you go. I think that's why it hurts so much, because you're all I had Ben and I-"

"That's why I can't lose you. You're all I have and that’s enough. You are enough. You always have been and always will be.” Ben states his eyes are wide with his confession, the pain of what he did to you flashes through them. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I never could think of a way to say it.”

More tears spring from your eyes and you wonder when you’ll stop crying.

Ben leans his forehead against yours. His expression softens as he looks into your eyes, his touch gentle against your cheek. “But if you’ll let me, I’d like to show you how much I love you and how sorry I am.” The look in his eyes is softer than you’ve ever seen it, reminding you of how he looked on those early mornings still half asleep and reminding you of how he looked the morning after your birthday before he ran.

You know he means well, and you understand what he’s asking, why he’s asking. He’s trying to make it up to you the only way he knows how, but you can’t do it. It's too soon. Too much after everything that happened and too much considering you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that he's here and he's finally saying everything you ever wanted him to. Not to mention that you haven't completely forgiven him.

“Ben?"

“Yeah?”

“Can you just hold me tonight?” You breathe. You felt disgusting. You had snot and tears all over your face and your cheeks were bright red and splotchy from crying. “I’m not ready for that. Not after everything. I don't think I can-”

You watch disappointment flicker in his eyes but he recovers with a soft smile. "It's okay. We can take this slow, whatever you need."

Ben drops the hand that was against your cheek and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest. You snuggle into his arms breathing in the familiar smell before bringing your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck in a tight hug.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

Ben’s arms tighten around you and you know that he must be remembering the past 40 years.

“What they did doesn’t matter.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come for you." You pull back to look into his eyes. "The others told me you were dead. I wouldn’t have left you there if I knew-“

“I know.” Ben leans his forehead against yours. “I would have come for you too.”

“I know.”

 “It means a lot to me that you were still willing to come get me after everything I fucking put you through.”

“That’s what love is.”

“No.” Ben whispers. “That’s you.”

“Ben-“

“I don’t deserve you. You’ve stood by me, put up with all my shit all these years and you never turned your back on me. What I did to you is unforgivable and yet you want me here with you-“

“Ben.” You sigh. “I know that I shouldn’t want you here and a part of me wants to push you away. I should make you leave, but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I love you. And that means that even though you’re the one who hurt me, you’re the only person that I want here, comforting me. As fucked up as that is, I don’t care. What you did was horrible, but I promise that I’m going to try my best to forgive you. It might take a long time, but I want to trust you again, because I love you and I never stopped.”

He frowns despite what you confessed. “You don’t regret-“

“I said a lot of things that night. And you did too." You push his hair back over his forehead. "And for the record, I don't think your father would care about making it up to someone else. We both know that he didn't care about anyone but himself. And even after everything that happened you're proving that you aren't him, right now, by being here with me."

He presses his lips together in a tight line. "Okay."

It’s quiet for a few moments as both of you stare at one another in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Have you really loved me since we were 8?” Ben whispers.

“Yeah. Since the study.” You're not sure if you should be embarrassed or not.

He smiles. “I was 10. It was the night of my mom's funeral. My dad was giving me some shit about something, but I couldn't stop thinking about you so I climbed up the tree outside your window. I wasn't going to ask you to come in, I was just going to sit on the ledge and watch you draw. I like watching you draw, it's like you're in your own little world and you forget about everything else. You always seem so happy." Ben smiles wider. "I like seeing you happy."

You remembered that night. You had a weird feeling that someone was watching you and when you looked out your window you had seen Ben sitting there. You had made a joke about him stalking you, but then invited him in. It was the first night that he had ever spent in your bed.

"And then when we woke up the next morning, you were laying there snoring-" Ben snorts.

"I do not snore." You smile with a sniffle

"You do. It's cute." Ben's smile turns softer. "And I didn't want to wake you up, because it meant that we'd have to move and I didn't want to ever move. Because moving meant that I would have to go back to my dad and I didn't want that. I just wanted to stay there with you."                                     

More tears pour from your eyes with his confession because again you can’t see Soldier Boy, you just see Ben, but you know it’ll take a long time until you’re completely healed.

“I didn’t want to say anything. I thought that if I did you would push me away and I didn’t have anyone else that mattered in my life. And you deserved better than me. I was always getting kicked out of boarding schools I was a fuck up. A disappointment.” Ben sighs, brushing away your tears again. “Even after we took the serum I was.  You deserved someone who was-“

“I didn’t think you were a fuck up, Ben. I’ve never thought that. I hate what your father said to you, what he did to you. I hate that he made you feel like you didn’t matter.”  You stroke your fingertips through his hair and Ben sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “You are worth so much more than what he told you. You mean so much to me, more than anyone else ever. That’s why I never told you. I didn’t want to lose you. You’re everything to me.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I promise I’m never going to leave you again. I missed you so fucking much sweetheart.”

“I missed you too.” You continue to move your fingers through his hair. In the past you had avoided the urge to do so, but now you wanted to comfort him. Because as much as you wanted to forget the last forty years, you wondered what they had been like for him. You wanted him to tell you what they did to him.

“Feels nice.” He murmurs, arms tightening around your waist.

“Your hair’s a lot longer.” You can’t help but smile at his reaction.

“Didn’t have time to cut it.”

“So is your beard-“

“If you don’t like it I can shave it off-“

“No don’t.” You say it quickly and Ben opens one eye to smirk at you.

“Guess you like it.”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll keep it just for you Sweetheart.” He leans further into you. “You know I think you look pretty good too.”

You snort. “You don’t have to butter me up just because you feel bad. I’m wearing sweatpants, I haven't brushed my hair, and my face is all puffy-“

“You look beautiful.”

“Well-“

“Stop. You do.”

“Ben-“

This time Ben raises his hand to cup your chin. “Will you just let me compliment my girl?”

The nickname is familiar. You remember the last time he called you that, when you were dancing and he finally kissed you for the first time. “Do you really mean it this time?”

“I always meant it. You are mine and nothing else matters.” The look in his eyes is determined, as if he wants you to understand how much you mean to him.

“Does that mean that you're mine too?" Your voice is almost a whisper, frightened of his answer. Although he had apologized and said that he wanted to make it up to you, you were still afraid. Afraid that Ben couldn't do this.

"Y/n." Ben's expression is pained. "I promise I will never do that again. I will never hurt you like that ever. Believe me when I say that."

"I'm trying to."

“What can I do to fix it?” He asks again.

“I don’t know.”

And you don't. Because you understood that Ben was trying his hardest to make up for what happened, and yes you loved that he was like this now, but you were afraid, afraid that the next day you'd wake up and he'd be gone and Soldier Boy would be back.

Ben sighs. "I am yours and I don’t want to be anywhere else." His eyes are focused on you, determined, but filled with a softness that turns the beautiful emerald into a clover that reminds you of the soft grass at the park the day you painted him.

You weren’t used to him looking at you like that, like you were the only person in the world. It had only happened one other time, the morning after your birthday when you were more happy than you'd ever been in your entire life.

“Okay.” You whisper back because you don’t know what else to say. “Ben?”

“Mhmm?”

“What did they do to you?”

Ben’s body tenses. “It doesn’t matter now.”

"Please tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because you were there for forty years and I-“

“It doesn’t fucking matter. Just drop it.” Ben snaps, eyes blazing green.

You wait for a beat, watching the blaze of his eyes turn down to a simmer. “It’s okay to admit that the last forty years haven’t been easy. I won’t judge you for that or think less of you Ben. And if we’re going to do this, be in a relationship, you’re going to need to share things with me. It can’t be one sided-“

“It’s not going to be one sided, I just don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay.” You sigh, settling back down next to him. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. You knew that Ben kept his cards close to his chest, but you wanted him to be open with you about things like that.

The silence grows between you filled with unspoken things.

“They wanted to see if I could die, if they could make me fucking normal again.” Ben mutters into the top of your head. And then he tells you, tells you what happened that day in Nicaragua, tells you about the testing, about the nuclear bomb they put into his chest, about every single thing they did to him over the past forty years. With each revelation of the last forty years your arms tighten around his body in a hug, holding him to you while his words make anger surge in your chest like an uncontrollable fire.

How could they do that to him? How could they hurt him like that? And Payback? They were our teammates. How could they turn their back on Ben like that? Give him up so easily and not for any kind of money?

You think about what Countess confessed to you, when she said that she purposely drove you two apart.

They were right to. If they had tried any of that with me there, I would have ripped them all apart if they tried to take Ben away.

Your fingers fall into Ben’s hair, gently dragging back and forth at the base of his skull while he continues, trying to bring him some comfort.

“Ben I’m so sorry.” You say when he finishes.

“It’s okay-“

“It’s not. Nothing they did to you is okay.”

“I deserved it.”

His words make an ice cold chill travel down your spine. It was the second time that he had said something like that tonight.

“Ben.”

You lean back from him to look him in the eye, but he won’t meet your gaze. Your hands cup his cheeks, his scruff prickling against your palms as you bring his attention to you. He looks lost and it scares you. Ben never did that. He was always together, it was you that usually had that haunting look in your eyes, but you could see what they did to him reflected in the familiar green. He looked worn.

“You didn’t deserve what they did to you. No one deserves that. And yeah maybe you said some shit you shouldn’t have and maybe you did something bad, but I never want to hear you say that again. Do you understand me? Never say that again. You didn’t deserve that. And I promise you that you’re never going back. I will not let them take you again.”

Ben nods once and your hands slip from his cheeks to go around his neck once more to pull him into a tight hug.

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people.” He mutters into the top of your head remembering what happened in Mid-town.

You had heard about it through Rosemary, who had several patients who had been hurt in the explosion, not to mention every news station seemed to have it on 24/7.

“I know. It’s okay. You just lost control. It happens to all of us.” You think about killing Countess. “It doesn’t make you a bad guy.”

“Hmm.”

It was weird for Ben to allow this, to allow you to hold him, but somewhere deep down you wondered if he always wanted you to, but he just never said and didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Weirder still was that he was holding you to him too, curling his arms around you and pulling you into his chest like you belonged there. And despite everything that happened, despite how angry you wanted to be, being here with him felt like you were coming home.

“You should sleep.” He whispers after a little while, as his hand trails down your spine, moving up and down in a soothing motion.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“If you want me to be.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I always want you here.” You breathe into his skin. “I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

“Then I will be.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you cuddle further into him, tightening your arms were they wrap around his neck to pull him into you.

And you hope that one day it won't hurt, that one day you won't hear the words he yelled at you, and that one day you can believe and trust him again like you did.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts

@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress

@my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna

@carpenterswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

@valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm @lil-soup @ej13928

[taliesin-the-bored]

Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel (Thank you for tagging me!)

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

[reiderwriter]

At Long Last Love Has Arrived

Final Chapter of That's What You Get

Summary: After a hard case, the team gathers in a celebration of love and friendship.

Warnings: suggestive content, no smut. Spoilers for Seaaon 7 Episodes "Hit" and "Run."

A/N: This is it! This is the final chapter! It's been a long journey and I'm so thankful to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, and generally followed along with the story! And to anyone who is here now that it's finished: Thank you as well! For now, this is everything I have planned for this series, but I might add a few epilogues a few months down the line!

For everyone waiting for my last week of kinktober content, thank you for being so patient! I'm hoping to get it all finished and the backlog up this weekend, so let's just count this as a super special weekend special!

As always, you can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here!

It was late in the day when the case finally wrapped, and you'd never felt more relieved to have come out of a case unscathed. 

JJ was a wreck, obviously, having had her family targeted and believing on multiple occasions that she was about to lose her partner. Emily was acting strange, too, and you were growing more concerned with her, especially after she'd put herself in harm's way to save Will. 

The team was exhausted, and you gladly slunked away that night, practically falling into your own apartment as you tried to bury a day of close calls. Spencer followed you, of course. The two of you sat silently together after the days events, just thankful to have company, really. 

Your husband (you were still warming yourself up to that title) sat, jaw tensed, on your couch, book in hand and hair a mess as you sat beside him, slowly sinking further into the couch as you thanked the gods that everyone got through that, but especially him. 

"Spencer," you whispered, looking at him to see if he'd notice your small sounds. No reaction.

"Spencer." You tried again, still in a whisper, but he still didn't make a move. Sighing and falling further into the couch, you decided just to go for it and laid your head in his lap quietly, closing your eyes and finding a comfortable position. He didn't bat an eye, though, simply tangling a hand through your hair and gently stroking it until the comforting repetition pulled you into a dreamless slumber. 

He tried to wake you up gently a few hours later, but the shrill ring of his cell interrupted his gentle touches. You gasped and startled up, almost headbutting him but instead ending up face to face, close enough to hear the hitch in his breath as he caught you just before you collided. 

"Sorry… I must've fallen asleep." Your voice was low, mostly because you'd let your gaze fall down to his lips, getting distracted by his proximity. 

"You did." He said, stroking your back and looking just as distracted. 

"We should probably pick that call up, right," you suggested, but you were already being drawn into his orbit, noses practically touching.

"Maybe we should," he replied, but instead of moving to do so, he simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and pulled your face up to his. The slant of his lips against yours was calming, so sweet and familiar, and so goddamn good that it helped drown out the pitchy screech of his phone. His hand stayed firmly on your jaw, controlling your movements and showing you exactly what he wanted in these stolen moments.

As the kiss went on, it grew hotter, a gentle flame searing your chest as you begged his lips to put it out, needing more and more of him. His hand left your jaw, falling instead to your ass as he pulled you on top of him fully, letting you straddle him as he kept your lips connected. 

You were entranced, letting him devour you to your heart's content. You wanted to move your hips to feel more of him at your core, but he had a firm grip and wasn't letting you go that easily. 

"Talk about topping from the bottom," you laughed into his ear as you pulled away for a second, pushing your hair behind your ear before he grabbed you and pulled you down for another hungry kiss.

"Don't get bratty, Y/N, we both know you're a pillow princess," you laughed at that and he took advantage, pressing his lips to your neck as he finally let your hips fall to meet his. Your laugh morphed into a hiss as you desperately clung to his shoulders, head thrown back in the bliss of what was to come. 

The ringing had stopped, thankfully, and honestly, it was so far from your mind that you'd almost completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place.

Until it started again, except this time it was vibrations in your pants and you practically moaned out loud before clapping a hand over your mouth and bolting from Spencer's lap, grabbing your phone as fast as you could while Spencer barely contained his enjoyment of the situation. 

"This is Y/N." You said into the receiver as you glared daggers at him. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but considering Doctor Reid just let my call ring out, I think I might have." David Rossi's barely contained mirth was evident even through the phone, and you mouthed some bad words at Spencer as he grabbed you and pulled you down into his lap again. 

"Since that wasn't a question, I won't be dignified it with a response. Is there anything you need, Rossi?" You asked, tipping your head back against Spencer’s shoulder but not letting yourself relax just yet. You'd never be able to live it down if you made any mistakes on this call. 

"Somehow, the knuckleheads around me keep getting engaged and married, and as a generous soul, I find myself wanting to help them." 

"Who got engaged?" You said, suddenly perking up. It'd been a tough day. Some good news and a celebration were direly needed. 

"Relax, I'm getting there. Are you and your now seemingly permanent husband free tomorrow night? A little birdie may have told me about a certain blonde finally giving into a proposal today. That same birdie may also have already flown out a Mrs. Jareau to bare witness."

"David Rossi, has anyone ever told you what a wonderful man you are?" 

"Not enough, I'm sure."

"We'll be there. What time?" He told you the details, and you whispered them into Spencer's ear, knowing that was just as good as jotting it down on paper. 

"And Rossi?" You said, as you were about to say your goodbyes, "thank you. For everything." The call ended and looked back up at Spencer from your place on his lap. 

"I think we have another shotgun wedding to attend." 

–X– 

Waiting for JJ to come down in her wedding dress, you were reminded again of what a truly wonderful choice of husband you had made. 

The two of you had arrived together at the wedding, but had made a small attempt to separate yourselves for now, not wanting to take the attention away from JJ and Will on their big day after their nightmarish week. You'd had a quick wink from Penelope, though, and a wiggle of the eyebrows from Emily, which made you chuckle as she handed you a flute of champagne. 

"You look incredible, Mrs. Reid." She said under her breath, and you giggled a bit but called her off as best you could. 

"Laying low for now, so keep your mouth shut, Agent Prentiss." She stuck her tongue out at you, and the two of you burst into laughter as you enjoyed the peaceful ambience Rossi had created in his back garden. 

"If Rossi ever re-retires, he should think of pursuing a career as a party planner. I know writing is working out well for him, but damn, that man could make a killing." Emily joked, catching your attention for a second, but you were distracted, eyes watching Reid from across the lawn. 

He was crouched down beside Henry, showing the eager, bright-eyed boy a magic trick. He looked so happy, so genuinely engaged with Henry, focusing his entire attention on him, that you couldn't help but watch on fondly. You knew how it felt to have his attention devoted entirely on you, and you felt your skin grow warm as you imagined how he would be with his own children. 

With your children. 

"Looking a little feverish there, Y/N. Baby feverish." In embarrassment, you looked away, letting your eyes fall around the lawn to anything but Reid as you tried to stammer out a response. 

"Whatever could you mean? Oh, would you look at that, Hotch is calling me over, see you." 

A skilful exit it was not, and now you'd forced yourself to go and make awkward conversation with your boss for a few minutes to escape the cackles of laughter escaping Emily behind you. You felt your ears glow red as you slowly marched across the lawn, convinced that someone was going to try and extinguish you before you reached your destination. 

Luckily, Beth saw you approach before Hotchner did and called out to you, extending a smile and a greeting. 

"Y/N, you look lovely. It's great to see you. How have you been?" You exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a while before Hotch cut in again. 

''Beth, I think the ceremony is starting soon. Would you mind finding Jack for me while I discuss something with Y/N?" He dismissed her effortlessly, and you suddenly dreaded the conversation that was about to come, noting your slip up from a few nights before. 

"Y/N, I don't mean to pry, but I've been meaning to ask you about your relationship with Spencer." Your eyes opened wide as you blinked at him again for another second. 

"Hold on, you don't know?" He looked down at you with a furrowed brow, somehow thinking you'd both misunderstood the conversation and where it was headed. 

In all honesty, you'd jumped to the conclusion after his warning over the phone the day before that he'd known about your relationship with Spencer. It didn't really make all that much sense to you, but you thought he must've been your second witness, only because there were very few people with the power to keep Penelope Garcia silent. But now, you wondered if you'd been wrong.

"Don't know what? Y/N, I'm simply asking a question about your physical relationship with Reid and if you think it will color either of your judgements on cases." 

"Physical… oh my god." You begged the earth to swallow you whole at that point. 

"I'm correct in thinking you two had relations whilst we were staying in Las Vegas, am I not?" His brow stayed furrowed as he fished for more information.

"How… How did you know?" 

"Spencer babbled about Star Trek in the lobby that last morning in Vegas. He seemed nervous, and combined with your suspicious attitude, it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. Plants aren't great hiding spots, Y/N." 

"Oh god," you groaned again, a hand falling to your mouth to cover your shocked face as you took everything in. He'd practically known from the start, even if he hadn't really known. "So you want to know if we can be trusted to stay impartial in the field." 

"Simply put, yes, it is a concern of mine. The FBI technically frowns on casual hookups between employees, but in this case, if you can work professionally-" 

"We're married," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You almost enjoyed the shock on Aaron Hotchner's face as you dropped that bombshell, as momentary as it was. 

"That certainly…changes things." He considered your words for a moment before opening his mouth again. "We can talk about this in the office on Monday. For now, congratulations are in order." 

As you clicked your glasses together awkwardly, Rossi gathered everyone's attention, ready to begin the ceremony. You took your place next to Spencer and let him grab your hand and squeeze it for a moment, sharing a look before you turned your gaze back to JJ and watched as her mother walked her down the aisle to marry the love of her life. 

His hand in yours was warm and constant, and he held you so softly that you felt like you were floating. He'd been worried that morning that you'd feel slightly forlorn at the wedding ceremony. After all, you didn't have much of one, even if he'd promised you 100 do-overs and vow renewals. 

But standing here with him, you found yourself feeling thankful simply that he was there with you. Your wedding had been perfect, and you gladly applauded JJ and Will as they finally kissed at the altar, wishing them all the bliss that you felt in that moment. 

The party was a blast and you had an amazing time eating, drinking and dancing with all your guests, gladly taking the opportunity to hog Spencer for a few dances, enjoying how you were able to shamelessly cling to him with no one batting an eye. Your joy and laughter spilt out every time he swung you around and pulled you into him, abuzz with love. 

You were almost glad when JJ called you all in for a quick speech, grateful to let your feet have a rest - Spencer may have been dancing enthusiastically, but he was still Spencer, and your toes had been attacked a few times in the course of your few dances. 

"I want to say thank you for coming here tonight, and, of course, thank you, Rossi, for hosting this beautiful wedding. It's not every day we get to celebrate a wedding in the BAU, let alone two in one year, so I'm just thankful we got to come together to celebrate like this." 

Will looked perplexed by her side as she raised her flute to start the toast. 

"Hold on, who else got married?" 

Your eyes widened as you stopped your champagne flute by your lips, suddenly catching on to the thread of conversation. 

"Oh my god, it was you!" You shouted, jumping up and probably confusing every single guest in attendance. "JJ, you- you were the other witness!" You stood there shaking a pointed finger at her, semi shocked. 

"Witness to what?" Morgan asked tentatively, wondering what he'd been left out of for a second. 

"I guess the cats out the bag. Sorry, Spence." 

"Why are you apologising to Spencer? Who got married?" Derek's questions were going unanswered, though, as you blubbered in the middle of the crowd suddenly put the pieces together. 

"You know, the FBI really shot themselves in the foot when they let you go over to Homeland. You're good." You cracked a smile at JJ, and she smiled back, just as you felt a hand on your back. 

"We didn't want to announce it here and hijack your wedding, but since you kinda let it slip first, would you mind if we…?" Spencer vaguely gestured between you, just as JJ let him take the floor, her and Will standing off to the side as Spencer turned the both of you around to face the crowd. 

You tried to meet his gaze as he did  but his eyes stayed trained on the crowd in front of you instead. Still puzzled, he began to talk, and you listened. 

"Last month, we chose to get married in Las Vegas," he started and braced for impact as he looked out at the audience. "And- and it seems like most of you knew that?" He'd theorised that most of your team knew already, but he wasn't prepared for just how many of them stood looking back at him with a sheepish 'yes, we know' look on their faces. 

"Wait, how do so many of you know?" He glanced around the crowd, landing on Rossi's gloating face first. 

"Don't look at me kid, you told me about it, and I kept my mouth shut."

He turned to Emily next. "Y/N sent me a text meant for someone else, and I tortured the information out of her after that." 

Exasperated, he looked down at you before shaking his head and looking at Hotch. 

"I expressed some concerns about your… involvement earlier, and Y/N informed me about your relationship status." He explained, tone serious in that mocking way only he could carry off. 

"And I was there, and so was Penelope." JJ filled in the gaps, leaving you feeling particularly bashful at Spencer’s side.

In a second, though, you were consumed by giggles as Morgan whipped around on Penelope dramatically. 

"Et tu, baby girl? Am I seriously the only one who didn't know?" Morgan glanced around receiving pats on the back from the crowd as they slowly trickled back to the dance floor, picking up extra drinks as they went. 

"No, I'm there with you, Morgan. JJ didn't even tell me you guys were dating." Will said, looking genuinely taken aback once again. 

"Oh, well. That's probably because we didn't actually date. We just got married." You replied, feeling your face flood with heat as you stuttered the words out once again. 

"You're telling me I had to almost die to get JJ to agree to marry me, even after 7 years of dating and a child, and you managed to convince a woman to do it in one night in Vegas?" Will seemed genuinely impressed, and with a laugh, gave Spencer a clap on the back awkwardly as he offered his congratulations. 

Penelope led Morgan away to console him, and the other happy couple walked back to the dance floor again as well, leaving you in the arms of your husband, as you finally had to face your small mistakes. 

"So, Mrs. Reid, whatever happened to keeping this to ourselves for a while?" 

"Honest mistakes, both of them, I swear." He took your hands in his and pulled them up so he could kiss your wrists before gently dropping them and pulling you in at the waist. 

His mouth fell to your ears as he spoke again. 

"And I was so looking forward to using one of the methods we brainstormed the other night." You stood confused for a second as he pulled back to watch your expressions, your mouth twitching the second you realised what he meant. 

Ring. Motel. Loud sex. And breeding you until he knocked you up. 

Clearing your throat, you wrapped your arms up and around his shoulders, hanging yourself off him, putting yourself at his mercy as you fluttered your eyelashes up at him. 

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil your enjoyment now, would I? I'm sure we can still find the time to try those methods out." 

The excitement in his eyes was almost comical, and you genuinely yelped as he literally swept you off your feet. 

"Spencer, what are you doing? Put me down!" 

"No, you're coming home with me, Mrs. Reid. Sorry, it's official now. You're mine."

"And I'm not going to forget it easily, now put me down." 

"And let you go back on your promise to let me do some very dirty things to you? Never." 

With another startled squeak, he carried you through the crowd and right to the doors, carrying you all the way into your new life together.

At long last, your love had arrived, and he was carrying you away into your future.

🏷 @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @whovianwholikesgirls @doriantomybasil

[mary-laib]

OKAY WRITING ABOUT JWCT SHIPS TIME:

Sammy x Yasmina

10/10

I love their relationship and how they have come so far throughout cc and ct. Also less to do with the ship but I especially loved how Yasmina was shown in ct to have worked towards facing her fears and has gotten so much further than Sammy, who has been ignoring her problems. There's like nothing to hate about this ship. Everyone agrees they're perfect.

Kenji x Brooklyn

3/10

I've been waiting for them to break up since they got together. She was great for him in the beginning of their relationship, helping him become his own person and becoming less egotistical, but she has refused to change with him, which has made their relationship stagnant. I thing their relationship was good for Kenji and I'm glad they got together if only so that she could help him figure out how to be his own man, but past that, their relationship was pointless and I hope it never gets rejuvenated.

Ben x Darius

8/10

I love them as bros and honestly, despite their obvious closeness and the fact that I would like to see more of their interactions, I see them as more platonic, especially with what Darius said about his crush on Brooklyn. Not because of him liking Brooklyn or girls in general and you'll see why in a minute. But I also wouldn't be mad to see them get together. They're both nerds and I love them.

Darius x Brooklyn

2/10

Honestly, I feel like the same things that caused a rift in Brooklyn's relationship with Kenji would also tear apart her relationship with Darius. And it's stated in the show that it's unrequited. They're good friends, but while he'd probably rate her as his top friend and vice versa, I feel like we can collectively agree that there are other friendships he has that are less toxic. Also the love triangle thing feels so weird when the girl cares less about both the guys combined than either one feels about her.

Darius x Nobody

9/10 The dots have been connected

Now hear me out: I don't feel like his crush has ruined things between him and Ben or Kenji, but some things about what he said regarding his crush and his reactions have made me feel like he is very aroace coded. Which has put a lot of things in perspective for me. Since the beginning of cc, he's been a "power of friendship" guy and rewatching his interactions with everyone, they seem a lot stronger and meaningful as just platonic, rather than romantic. And while everyone around him has been dealing with romance, he's just kind of indifferent to it all until Brooklyn. And his reaction to his crush on Brooklyn just screams repressed aroace with him saying that he never thought he could feel like that (has he never had a crush on anybody before) and how he has completely panicked regarding their relationship. Idk to me, it's giving aroace with a "fake" crush or demi aroace person who has taken way too long to fall for a girl that anybody else would have fallen for after the original bout of mortal danger. He had to be friends with her for YEARS before he could catch a semblance of a crush on her. And it also sounds to me like she was pretty absent in his life before popping in to stay with him for a week, which could also explain why he might he having a "fake" crush (if that is what it is). ALSO: when I say "fake" crush, I'm not trying to downplay his feelings, I'm just referring to something a lot of aroace people experience where you get really close to someone and mistake those feelings for love. And when it happens, these feelings are very intense(speaking from experience). Like how if he's suddenly frequently interacting with Brooklyn again and it's just them, I feel like that kind of situation could lead to an aroace crush. It's all just giving aroace person experiencing their first crush in the most traumatic way possible.

Brooklyn x Nobody

10/10 We love to see a gal feeling herself

I feel like at this point in the story, she has nothing to gain or give by being in a relationship with anybody in the show. Her and Kenji had a decent run while they had it, but it's time to let go at this point. If she does end up with someone, it has to be someone outside the main cast and personally, I'd like to see her with a gal pal. She has bi energy, especially with the new haircut.

Kenji x Darius

7/10

Honestly, I definitely shipped them mid-cc, but at the beginning of ct, I decided I did not want to see them get together. But by the end, I kind of changed my mind. I still think their relationship would be best platonic, but I also wouldn't be mad if they got together. It'd probably be a bit stranger than if Darius was with Ben, but they've also got a strong connection.

Ben x Kenji

0/10

I feel like they've hardly gotten any relationship building in either cc or ct and it needs to happen pronto. There has to be something they can bond over

Sammy x Yasmina and Ben

10/10

I'd like to see the lesbians in a qpr with their hypeman. Ben is just so cute with them and he loves them so much (platonically) and vice versa. It doesn't need to be anything official, but just more of Ben being their third wheel/adopted son would make the show more perfect than it already is.

Ben x His European GF

2/10

I think she's fake, either that he's lying about her so he doesn't lose street cred or that she is lying to him and is a catfish. Maybe we'll see a plot twist relating to the gf, but I'm not holding out hope. She could be redeemed if she was a real girl who was a total kickass and saved the whole group (maybe they meet her at the end of their stowaway boat mission) but otherwise I don't really care about her. Also don't lose hope, people who hc him as gay or aro, there's always the chance that he's bi, lying, or having a "fake" crush like Darius. I know I, as an aroace person have had more online than irl relationships and I'm p sure that's a sign of not being allo, especially when the person you're dating is far away and you have no plans of ever seeing them irl.

Anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[unemployedhockeyfan]

Not All Breakups Are Equal Pt. 2

Summary: Lando and Eloise deal with the fallout of their friendship after Eloise left Lando standing in his Monaco apartment.

Warnings: angst I guess and I'm pretty sure just one swear word

Notes: Hi! Thanks for the support on part one!! Sorry it took a few days for this part. I write for my adult job, too, so sometimes I'm just a little too worn out to write after work.

[2.33k]

Part 1

The days in New York are easy. Daily life is just fast enough that I don’t even have the opportunity to think of the friendship breakup that’s constantly trying to pull at my heart. 

Days are nothing compared to nights. 

New York has seemingly earned its title of “The City That Never Sleeps.” I wish I could say it’s because I make my nights as fast paced as my days, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told — second only to all the years I told myself I didn’t love Lando… At least not that way. 

My nights are filled with little to no sleep as I toss and turn in the bed squished into the tiny hotel room. All that fills my brain is his smile, his laugh and the look on his face as I walked out the door of his apartment. 

I never want to forget the smile or the laugh, but that last look is one I wish wasn’t burned into my brain. 

It’s been three weeks since I last saw or talked to Lando. He’s since won his first race in Formula 1. 

A race I wasn’t there for. 

I was supposed to be. I had a pass and in all honesty, I could’ve still shown up. If I did, though, I would’ve fallen back into the same pattern as before. The people-pleasing nature of my personality would’ve come out and I would’ve continued to let Lando’s new girlfriend talk ill about me. 

My mind was overflowing with the memories I had of watching Lando celebrate in Miami while I sat 1,200 miles north. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. At least not anymore than the three hours I had already barely managed. 

As I rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand, the cheap digital clock was shining 3:30 a.m. 

“Hm, Max is probably up by now. I can call him,” was the initial thought that crossed my mind. 

Max wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he found out that my plane ticket landed me across the Atlantic Ocean, but he got over it relatively quickly when he found out I had friends from university in the area. 

It took a while, but the line finally connected, welcoming me to one of the most comforting voices in my life. 

“Eloise, long time no hear.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been busy.”

“Really? Or are you just lying to me?” Max always seemed to be able to read my mind, no matter how much I wished he couldn’t.

“It’s a half lie. The days have been busy, the nights are just restless.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

The silence lasted for a few moments too long. It allowed Max just enough time to steer the conversation in a direction I was trying to avoid. 

“He misses you, Elle.”

“I saw his win in Miami. He looked happy. I couldn’t help but watch.”

“He wanted you there.”

I know Max is telling the truth. He has no reason to lie, and I know that truthfully Lando didn’t want me to leave his apartment just over a month ago, but I did. 

“You should call him, not me.”

“It depends, Max” 

“On what? Whether or not he’s broken up with his girlfriend?”

“Actually, exactly that.”

“I thought you told him you were OK if they were dating as long as she was nicer to you,” Max pushed back. 

“I am, I just don’t think she’s capable of changing in just a few weeks.” 

My voice was getting louder and I didn’t really want to take my anger out on Max. He hadn’t done anything wrong — maybe just pushed the wrong button or two. 

We sat in silence, the only noise being our breathing on either end of the line. It lasted well over a minute before I let out an exaggerated sigh. I was not only going to come clean to Max, but to myself as well. 

“Max, it's just… It’s hard and it hurts,” I said as my eyes slowly started to leak fresh tears. 

“I know, Eloise, I know. I don’t think anyone is expecting it to be easy for you or for him.”

“No, Max, I don’t just mean distancing myself from him. It’s hard to even be around him nowadays when I see how he treats other girls when all I want is for him to treat me that way.”

The pause in the conversation was deafening. With the phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Max to say something, to say anything. 

“Max?”

“Well, it’s about time you admitted it to yourself,” he said with a rather large chuckle.

“Stop, this isn’t funny.”

I was laughing too, though. I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that for the first time in a month I felt comfortable in my surroundings, but I laughed for a good three minutes before Max’s voice finally came through again. 

“You sure do laugh a lot for someone who thinks this isn’t funny!”

“Can’t help it right now.”

“I mean, I am pretty funny,” Max said with an audible smug look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.”

“Good one, Elle. I’m going to hang up on you so you have to call him.”

“I’m not going to, I need more time. Plus, he’s in Montreal right now, it’s 3:30 for him, too, and I’d imagine he’s asleep.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that, right?”

“Hm, I learned it from you.”

“Get some sleep, Eloise. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Maxy. And, I promise, I’ll call him eventually.”

It was nearly two months later before I decided it was finally time to talk to Lando again. Of course, by that point, I was well past sleep deprived between restless nights in New York and changing time zones as I returned home to the United Kingdom. 

With my brain barely functioning, I decided the best bet would be to not call Lando, but show up in Austria at his next race. I had all the passes I needed to show up thanks to both myself and Lando thinking this falling out was never going to happen. 

I managed to avoid all the areas I knew Lando would be during the days leading up to Sunday. I saw and anxiously watched as Lando raced Max for the lead. I sat and nearly cried as I watched Lando’s race come to an end just laps shy of yet another podium. 

Lando is hard on himself. He holds himself to a level that’s nearly impossible to reach, and I know his mood after this race will be anything but stellar. He’s bound to be angry, and I start to fear what his reaction will be if he sees me. 

As I stand lost and confused in the paddock, I hear my name being called by maybe one of the few people who could make me smile at this moment. 

“Eloise! Elle, is that you?”

I whip my head around to see a smiling Daniel Ricciardo jogging my way. Before I could even respond, I’m wrapped in the embrace of one of my favorite members of the F1 world. 

“What are you doing here? Does Lando know?”

“I’m assuming he’s clued you in on what’s happened?”

“Just a little, don’t know all the details.” 

“Um, yeah, well he doesn’t know I’m here. Really, I don’t even know why I’m here. I should probably leave. There was part of me that wanted to talk to him, but after everything that’s gone on just today, it’s probably best I make myself just disappear. I don’t want to make this any worse than it probably already is for him.”

“Eloise, you’re rambling.”

I couldn’t help it, I was nervous. I was standing in front of one of Lando’s former teammates and just steps away from the McLaren garage. 

“Do you want me to call him and get him down here? I really don’t think you off all people could make this moment worse for him”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Call him.”

Lando must’ve answered quickly, but it seemed to take some convincing from the Aussie to lure Lando out of his driver’s room. Eventually the word was that he was on his way down. 

I wouldn’t let Daniel leave. I couldn’t let Daniel leave. Just over a minute after Daniel had hung up the phone, I heard a voice that I’d been missing for months. 

The voice was so calming on the ears that I had a physical reaction to it. Everything seemed to calm down around me the second the first word came stumbling from Lando’s mouth. 

“What’s up, Daniel? Really just not in the mood right now.”

He didn’t respond. Daniel just stepped out of the way, revealing me to the man who still held so much of my soul. 

“Hey, Lan.” 

The tension was palpable. Lando and I stood there staring at one another as Daniel slowly disappeared to likely return to his own driver’s room. I didn’t want to say anything until he responded, but I was scared that if I waited for him, it would be silent for hours. 

“Sorry for just showing up and not calling. For some reason it seemed easier to jump on a plane than it did to pick up the phone.” 

“You’re here? In Austria? You’re here, really here? I went back home, I called and nothing. Now, you’re just here?”

“Lan, I’m sorry. I needed space. I just didn’t know the best way to come back.”

I could tell Lando was trying to not get angry. His body language becomes so easy to read after knowing him for years.

His hand ran through the curls on his head after rubbing his face almost too hard. 

“Um, let’s just go to my driver’s room. We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in public.” 

The walk to his room was awkward. There were eyes glancing at us and some whispers, too. I knew it had been awhile since I had been at one of these, but this surely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. 

“Listen, Eloise, I’m not mad. I’m just confused. You left me in my apartment and then disappeared for months with nothing from you. I had to rely on Max to at least know you were alive.”

Lando took a seat on his makeshift bed after making room next to him for me to sit. 

“I know, Lando. I can only imagine how much it hurt you for me to leave, but I had to protect myself. I was hurting so much.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Lando was crying. With the events that had already unfolded today, this really wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but it didn’t look like I could avoid it any longer. 

“Lan, I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 

Before I could stop myself, I was wiping the tears that were starting to spill from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable at this moment. 

“And, really, Lando, I don’t think I ever really felt hurt by you. I just wanted you to hear me and it felt like you were blinded by some love.” 

“It wasn’t love. It was lust or some shit like that. It just definitely wasn’t love.”

I’m not sure how I was really supposed to take that revelation. Was he still seeing her? Was it still too new that he was just describing it as lust?

My confusion must’ve been evident on my face because before I could utter a response, Lando was talking again. He was talking to me as he slowly grabbed both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. 

“She’s gone. She’s not in the picture anymore. The day after you left, Max and I had a heart-to-heart. Really, he kind of laid into me and wouldn’t stop. He kept saying that some fling was never going to be worth what you meant to me — what you mean to me.”

It was my turn to start crying. The tears didn’t flow as fast as they did the night I walked out of his apartment, but they were there. Lando quickly pulled me into his chest, placing a needed kiss on my temple. 

“Eloise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life apologizing for allowing her to say those things about you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” my voice slightly muffled but my head in his chest. 

As I leaned back, I grabbed his hands once again and looked him in the eyes — those eyes that have held me captive since I was 13. 

“Why didn’t you come find me after you broke it off with her? Max isn’t that strong, he would’ve told you where I was in a heartbeat if he knew it was over.”

“I knew where you were. I knew you were tucked away in a crummy New York hotel room. I just wanted to give you space. Telling you she was gone would’ve just rushed you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Lando Norris. Can we go back to being friends again? I can’t do life without you in it.”

“About that…”

About what? What could Lando possibly want to say to me? I thought this conversation was going well, I thought it was oddly healing in a way. Was he about to push me out the door this time? 

“I don’t know if we can be friends again, Eloise.”

Oh my god this really is it. Our friendship is ending. After months of me not letting it die in my brain as I took my own space, Lando Norris was about to shatter my heart into a million unrecoverable pieces. 

“We can’t be friends because it’s not OK for friends to love one another the way I love you.”

“Wait, what?”

[scoutfnch]

Losing My Best Friend to My Ex-Boyfriend

An act of betrayal leads a writer to ponder what it means to end a friendship

By HANNAH HORVATH

Jessa always refused to use the words "best friend." I long feared her reticence masked a reluctance to fully welcome me into her life. That, in her eyes, I might be somehow unworthy of the love, praise, and hugs that I so eagerly bestowed upon her. She nurtured all of my insecurities, allowing them to fester, then grow.

I realize now, with the benefit of the wisdom that can only come once you've lived as long a twenty-seven years as I have, that this was probably my favorite thing about her.

Adam always refused to use the word "boyfriend." He courted me for months. His method involved me inviting myself over to his apartment, where we'd have weird sex that never quite satisfied me. He was, and remains, the only person I've ever truly loved. 

But I realize now that what initially attracted me to him were the same things that attracted me to her.

So perhaps it should come as no surprise that Adam and Jessa are in love with each other.

Adam finally agreed to be my boyfriend on a sticky hot night in the summer of 2012. I fell off his bicycle and he told me everything about him. Things I didn't know because, as he reminded me, I never asked. He loved books. He was an alcoholic. He owned pants.

Is was the same night that Jessa met Adam for the first time. "He does look like the original man," I recall her saying.

I met Jessa for the first time on the campus of Oberlin College in the fall of 2006. I chased her around Northern Ohio for seven months before a heroin addiction landed her in rehab. She wouldn't return to school. 

She had no Facebook or MySpace even though it was 2006. She didn't understand text messaging either. "Word alerts," she called them. We kept in touch on the phone. She'd call me at all hours of the night. She'd wake me up and I'd pretend that I wasn't asleep. I loved hearing her (possibly fake, likely exaggerated) British accented voice in my ear as I listened with wonder. She'd drone on about whatever guy had fallen in love with her or whatever country she was in that day. [...] She disappeared as quickly as she had from Oberlin, stranding me at her father's house Upstate. She'd end up in rehab again. 

In her absence, I fell apart. My long-dormant Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was back and in a big, big, big, big, big, big, big, big way. I needed Jessa, though what aide she might have been able to provide remains unclear.

Adam was there. He came running. Literally, running shirtless through the streets of Brooklyn to my door in Greenpoint. 

Our relationship began again in earnest. A few months later, I got a phone call in the middle of the night. It was the same person who always called me in the middle of the night.

[...]

We broke up, and after a few months, Adam wants to get back together. I said no. I started dating a co-worker. 

Some time between then and when we broke up, Adam and Jessa kissed for the first time, had sex for the first time, told each other for the first time - things I might not even know about. They fell in love.

Maybe they are better for each other than I ever was for either of them. Their addictions are to substances, but mine are to people like them. People whose behavior confirms my darkest fears about myself. People who give me an excuse not to be happy. 

My story is a simple tale of jealousy. Or, of beating jealousy back like in the medieval dragon it is. In this story, I am Viggo Mortensen in "Lord of the Rings," and jealousy is powerless against my sword.

And this begins the way all stories of jealousy do... all great stories of jealousy... which is with my ex-boyfriend and my best friend fucking. And this is not just any best friend. This is the best friend who I would say looks like Brigitte Bardot had a baby with a mermaid. She literally had an open fungal sore on her face and Matthew Perry still asked her out.

So, um, I guess I'm not what you would describe as, like, a chill girl. I'm not like a cool, relaxed lady. Like, you would never meet me and be like, "That Hannah, she really goes with the flow like a funky youth." You would be like, "Has she snorted Adderall in the last 60 minutes?"

So when I found out about my ex-boyfriend and my best friend, um, I was weirdly calm, considering that fact. Frozen, even, you know? I tried to imagine all these horrible things, like him licking her elephant tramp stamp and sucking her tiny tit while she cupped his balls and then he sucked on her lip, which is shaped like a rosebud.

And I tried to get myself really worked up and just imagine all this horrible stuff on a loop, but the fact is that I wasn't angry, I was sad. I was sad about what I thought they knew I was. I thought they were sitting there going like, "Oh, God, Hannah's freaking out. She's gonna kill a cat and she's gonna nail it to our door. She's going to cry so hard that all of Greenpoint fills with tears and it's like fuckin' Waterworld."

And you know what? They weren't wrong. I had to fight really, really hard not to be that girl. And it wasn't easy. I thought about, um, throwing a bike through his window, but, A, he lives on the third floor. I have very poor upper body strength. And, B, he probably would have appreciated it and been like, "Thanks for the bike."

I thought about sending her a text that said, "How does the wind feel caressing your two faces, young lady?" But instead I sat and cried and thought and ate and wrote and masturbated thinking about Chris Farley, which is a thing from my childhood that I haven't fully worked through yet.

But when I heard tonight's theme was jealousy, I knew that I needed an end to my story, a real end, and that end came about 20 minutes before I arrived here when I delivered a very nice and not at all cheap fruit basket to his door, along with a note that said, "Good luck. I mean it sincerely. In perpetuity, Hannah."

'Cause that's the fact, you know? I'm Hannah forever. No matter what I do, no matter whether I, you know, start a new nuclear missile crisis with my emotions or just sit back and chill and give someone a fruit basket. I can only control the mayhem that I create around me.

But the crazy thing is that when I showed up, I heard screaming and I heard my name and I heard madness, and I knew that I was free, at least for tonight. That's all. Thank you.

[review-anon]

Here is a question. What is your favorite relationship (platonic or romantic, does not matter) from every DR game you’ve seen?—Timeline Anon

A wholesome question I can do, I like it!

Trigger Happy Havoc: Aoi and Sakura. These two are so sweet together as yes they are the athletic duo, and it’s not as in your face as some of the others but I just like they are vibing with each other in the background, wish we saw more of it. This friendship of course drove most of the drama in Chapter 4, but I think it’s because of said friendship the drama was so raw.

Goodbye Despair: Sonia and Gundham. It’s obvious why these two are often shipped together as on surface level they get on because Gundham likes to pretend he is a supervillain and Sonia loves the occult, but then dig deeper and you see it’s because both are often treated by people due to their status, whenever it be Sonia as a princess or Gundham because he was born out of wedlock, and wanting to be seen for who they are. This is why I cringe at people who think Kazuichi has a chance with Sonia, because he never respected Sonia for who she is, whereas Gundham does.

Killing Harmony: Kaede and Shuichi. It’s short and it doesn’t last long, but I wish it did as while Chapter 1 was brilliant as well as heartbreaking, it really shows the characters of these two. Shuichi is a very nervous and unsure person due to past experiences and Kaede wants him to be more confident in himself and his skills. Probably because I had a feeling Kaede had to endure some abuse from her skills when she was younger so she sees a bit of her old self in Shuichi. Of course this ends tragically since it’s Danganronpa, but it’s very telling in a franchise where most character deaths are forgotten by the middle of the next chapter, Kaede’s legacy lingers over the entire game.

Danganronpa Another: The Rainbow Trio, this being Teruya, Haruhiko and Satsuki. This chaotic group forms quite early on and they are a source of much light hearted relief and wholesomeness. I like how this contrasts Tsurugi’s rapidly deteriorating authority over the group as the others wake up to the fact he is not a good person. While sometimes their antics can be tone deaf, it helps to keep the game from being too depressing, and though the group falls apart in Chapter 4 because trios never last, their legacy lives on in Teruya as his SDRA2 outfit incorporates clothing from his fallen friends, and I feel his attitude is him trying to honour their memory which is the best way to go about it. Especially as I think he feels responsible for their deaths if he didn’t act so selfishly.

Super Danganronpa Another 2: Sora and Yoruko. It’s low hanging fruit but these two are soooo good with each other. Due to Sora’s programming it’s hard to tell if she actually likes Yuki or if it’s Mikado telling her to, but since Yoruko always seemed to be someone he shoved in last minute, her relationship with Sora is genuine. Yoruko shows she might be a hostess, but she has depth and layers to her, and seeing how Sora was learning throughout the game, you could say Yoruko was a major influence on her future behaviour. Yes they have a falling out in Chapter 5, but this is resolved once Yoruko realises how immature she was acting and Sora was undergoing serious identity crisis at the time. And the fact that though Sora sacrifices herself at the end, Rei promises Yoruko she will bring her back, is some actual Hope that these two could be reunited together in the future. Maybe they will have a happy ending.

Despair Time: Charles and Whit. Didn’t think these two would get on, but lol and behold they do. Whit is an amazing character all around and the fact he stood up for Charles in Chapter 1’s Class Trial, helped to dethrone him from Asshole Quadrant and make him a compelling character. They are like a comedy duo where Whit is the funny man and Charles is the straight man. It’s also very clear these two might have feelings for each other as while we know Whit is canonically bi while I don’t know where Charles swings, the amount of blushing sprites he has is sus. I sadly don’t think these two would stay together forever and if Whit is the mastermind then this is gonna be a Akane situation all over again, but let me enjoy these two for now.

Tetro Pink: Mai and Yanagi. It might shock you for me to say this since I’m not the biggest Yanagi fan, but I cannot deny these two are great together as Mai realises that Yanagi isn’t a bad person, he’s just very naive and needs guidance to stop being taken advantage of, both in the past and in the present. There’s also the fact that since Mai is the one girl who doesn’t tolerate the Prince act Yanagi puts on, it means interactions between the two are more genuine, plus the fact Yanagi blushes a lot when Mai puts on a suit? Damn I dig. Seeing as it seems Yanagi is getting better now, I hope Chapter 3 continues this.

Some titles were skipped either because there isn’t many relationships or there weren’t any I liked all that much. Either way hope you enjoy

[rosewoodroad]

Really want to send in an ask for Wysma as well but I've lost track of what you've answered already SO is there a question you have not answered yet that you really want to? Or just an (insert wildcard answer here)?

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES YES thank u for giving me the chance to really get into his relationship with Zojja--

Zojja is the reason Wysma became the Commander when he did.

But even before the Personal Story, Zojja had crossed paths with a younger Wysma a few times, specifically during her dealings with Qronn, Wysma’s live-in professor and parental figure. She didn’t care much about the quiet, clumsy student assistant in the back, probably misnaming him a few times and promptly forgetting about him once she left the room.

Wysma only really caught her attention when he got older, grew a backbone, and began training as a Peacemaker Rookie. Specifically, when he helped her out during the Inquest’s attempted golem takeover (during the tutorial segment). As is natural for most Asura of Zojja’s standing, she might’ve thought it beneath her to associate with someone like Wysma, given his lukewarm performance in scholastics. But she had a special eye for talent, and his working attitude and willpower impressed her enough to continue collaborating with him.

Her hypothesis was confirmed when she recognised Wysma’s martial talents were wasted in Rata Sum's society and began machinating his introduction to the three orders, and then it was history from there.

It's quite the slow-burn friendship, especially from Zojja’s end, who at first was unmotivated to associate with a nameless lab assistant. Over time, she developed a professional (“neutral, totally not personal”) interest in his growth, which forged the foundation for a genuine friendship and, eventually, admiration. That said, their early relationship definitely involved her bossing (read: bullying) him quite a bit. Zojja’s assistants often joked about her new “minion” or scapegoat. By SoTO, however, she had mellowed out and was more open about her thoughts on him, especially the sentimental ones.

From the events after HoT to SoTO, she was hesitant about contacting him due to self-doubt about her worth and standing in their relationship. Influenced partially by Rata Sum’s disregard for her, she worried that the Commander, the Dragon Champion, was so different from the Wysma she knew that his presence would upset her more than comfort her. She feared he might be disgusted with her weakness. She had once been his superior, like she was to so many back in Rata Sum, yet she had fallen so far. Would Wysma even want to associate with her again?

But one look at him in SoTO, and she realised that despite all that time apart, he was still the soft-hearted Asura she knew all those years ago. With his blessing—the goodbye she never got to share with Snaff or Eir—she left behind her past and her memories.

Wysma definitely mourns the Zojja he knew, and he doesn't think they'd ever be close again, but more than that, he's just satisfied knowing she's happier now.

[dioles-writes]

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS"

Masterlist | Credits go to @jiphenn | Characters: Reagan (she/her), Felix (he/him)

“Felix?”

Reagan hesitated at her brother’s door, body leaned up against the frame. He was sprawled out on his bed, homework strewn across the messy sheets - although the pages were practically blank, his phone at his ear instead as he grinned at whatever the person on the other line was saying.

“Yeah, one sec.” He said into the phone, glancing up to her with an irritated look.

She seemed to be getting that look a lot these days.

Ever since school started it was like Felix couldn’t stand to sitting in the same room as her. Although it was barely even November yet, he had already gotten into probably what was hundreds of fights. It seemed like he couldn’t keep himself from getting into trouble for more than a day, with the amount of calls from the school she had been getting. The beginning of the year had been brutal. Every single day there was some sort of fist fight Felix had gotten himself into, leading to multiple detention slips and trips to the nurse’s office. His face had practically become permanently swollen. Not to mention his behaviour change at home. He was more standoffish and argumentative. They’d gotten into more fights themselves just the past few months alone than they had in the entire year. It was like he was an entirely new person.

Reagan had done her best to write it off as stress from the new school year, especially because this was his first time at Diantha Rose, but deep down she knew that wasn’t it.

Felix told her pretty much everything. The kids in his classes, stupid fights that he’d won, his new girlfriends and boyfriends, drama at school, or even supposedly cruel teachers that were, in his words, “totally unfair and just jealous of my pure talent”. She couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t shared everything with each other. But now, ever since school started, it felt like pulling teeth, trying to get Felix to talk to her.

He’d suddenly just pulled away; he spent his nights after school holed up in his room, doing who knows what, his voice muffled through the door as he laughed with his friends. Not like before - where he’d swing into the kitchen with a grin, plopping his backpack down on the table with a thump before stealing a pastry from the rack, fresh. He’d laugh as she swatted his hands away, shoving it into his mouth and going on to tell her all about his day.

He just seemed so much… colder now. It was as if there were a million miles separating the two of them; like they were apart of entirely different worlds.

“Well?” Felix’s voice came abruptly, pulling Reagan from her spiralling thoughts. He cocked an eyebrow at her, impatient. “What is it?”

Reagan sat down on the edge of his bed, patting her knees hesitantly. “Can I talk to you? It’ll only take a second, I promise.” She gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you from your friends for too long.”

Felix rolled his eyes before turning back to his phone. “I’ll be right back.” He said with a huff of very obvious annoyance before tossing his phone down on his sheets.

His screen flashed up at her: The profile picture of a boy with fluffy peanut-coloured hair, fair skin, pastel purple-and-mint green eyes, and a wide smile, his face adorned with beauty marks.

July Roberts.

It seemed all the problems they had been having started with him. Ever since Felix had become friends with the mysterious Board Game Club leader, everything had fallen apart.

At first, Reagan had been over the moon, hearing Felix was finally starting to make friends.

He’d always been shut off from the idea. Sure, he kept a few people around him at school to keep him company, but it was never a real friendship. He never went to sleepovers, or parties, or hung out with anyone outside of school. For as long as she could remember, he’d just been so lonely. Reagan would have done anything to get him to be a regular kid, to just go out and have fun. All she had ever wanted was for him to finally experience the world in the way she was never able to.

Now he was finally going out. He even had a whole new group of friends. The Board Game Club. He could barely be seen at home, always running out with one of his newfound friends, off doing whatever it was they did. He even started going to actual sleepovers. For all of Reagan’s prays and pleading over the years, he seemed to be fitting in, finally allowing himself to enjoy this school.

That fact should’ve been enough to ease her worries, but Reagan could never stop herself from stressing herself half to death. Something just felt so utterly wrong about the whole Board Game Club situation. Coming from a kid who had only made two friends in the past eleven years, one of them who Reagan wasn’t even sure properly liked him, it was a goddamned miracle. And in such a short amount of time, too. Reagan was happy for him, of course she was. She’d always be happy if he was happy. But something wasn’t right about it. The Board Game Club members being sort of strange themselves wasn’t helping her suspicions, she was sure. Especially after finding out one of them was a Diole.

It was just a coincidence. Had to be a coincidence. Dioles existed, he was going to end up meeting them. The fact that the two of them had become friends was nothing more than a coincidence. She wouldn’t allow it to be anything more than that. There was no reason for her to worry about it.

Still…

Reagan sighed. She was getting too wrapped up in her thoughts again, allowing herself to get pulled away, distracted from the real reason she had come in here in the first place. She turned her attention back onto Felix.

“You’ve been using your powers?” She asked after a long pause, praying this question was in safe territory, that it wouldn’t result in another blowup where she inevitably would lose her temper and say all the wrong things to him.

Felix’s eyes flickered away from her face, as he suddenly became very interested with a loose thread on his blanket, expression turning from bored to uncomfortable. Before she had even asked the question, she knew that would happen. Anything to do with Dioles made him fidgety, especially any mention of his powers. It was a fact Reagan knew deep down, she was at fault for, with all her worrying about him getting caught or exposed. She knew she probably only made it worse for him, terrifying him to even dare use his powers, but a part of her was relieved he was so scared. Fear meant safety. If he didn’t use his powers, he couldn’t get caught. If he didn’t use his powers, she couldn’t lose him.

But now, a new emotion lingered in his eyes. Something that was akin to… shame. “A little,” he grunted, still refusing to look up. “Only sometimes.”

Felix’s look of absolute crushing guilt wasn’t helping Reagan to feel any better. Neither was his refusal to meet her gaze.

“Why’s that?” She pressed, trying to keep her tone light. Anything to keep him from exploding on her. She gave him a gentle smile, allowing him to go on, despite her urge to yell and demand him to tell her why he’d been acting so strange lately.

“Dunno.” He mumbled, running his fingertips along the wrinkles of the blanket, enraptured. “Just felt like it.”

It didn’t take a genius to see that was a lie. One thing Reagan could always count on was how terrible of a liar Felix was. Sometimes she wondered how the two of them hadn’t been caught yet, because her brother couldn’t tell a lie to save his life. He had just about a million tells: the way his posture had gone stiff, his fidgeting hands he just couldn’t seem to keep still, his refusal to look her in the eye. There was something else he was hiding.

Reagan hummed. “That’s it?”

Felix gave her a little scoff of protest, turning towards her, his eyes flickering vaguely in her direction. “I don’t know, Rea,” He said. “I haven’t been as scared of them anymore. I like using them.”

Reagan scanned his face. There seemed to be some truth to it, she thought. But he was so obviously hiding something from her. The secret he refused to blurt hung between them, turning the air thick, making it almost unbearable. The silence stretched on, the two siblings stuck in a game of seeing who would break it first, Reagan’s eyes fixed onto Felix, while the boy stared down at an empty spot on his floor instead.

“Okay.” Reagan finally broke the tense silence, forcing herself to smile again. The idea of Felix using his powers more just about terrified her to death - it was just another way he could get caught, another way he could get hurt - but she forced herself to keep all of her worries to herself. She couldn’t deal with another fight right now. “As long as you’re safe.”

Reagan grabbed his hand, gently holding it in hers. “You’re being safe, right?” She asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

Felix stared at his hand in hers, the emotion in his eyes suddenly unreadable. “Yes Reagan,” He said. “I’m being safe.”

“You’re being careful?” Reagan asked again, slowly rubbing her thumb atop his knuckles. Anything to soothe her worries.

“Yes Reagan.” He answered again, but despite it, he didn’t sound as annoyed as before. His voice had softened, just slightly.

“Okay, okay. As long as you’re being safe.” Reagan said, still desperately trying to convince herself. “Just, remember to be careful, okay? Try not to use them too much; even if you’re only doing it around the house, it’s still dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I can’t lose you.”

Felix met her gaze. His mouth parted slightly, and for a second it was almost as if he was about to admit what was really bothering him so much. Reagan could feel it, that distance between them, it closed for just a second, and it was almost like before, before they moved, before Felix met July Roberts, before everything started going downhill.

But as soon as it started, it ended. Felix’s eyes hardened and he looked away again, pulling his hand from hers. “It’s fine Reagan.” He said dismissively. “You worry too much.”

In an instant, that coldness was back.

Reagan blinked back tears that suddenly sprang up. Sometimes she really hated herself for it, her inability to go a single conversation without tearing up a little bit. She forced herself to give him an empty smile, anything to avoid a fight. “I guess you’re right. I just can’t help it.” She chuckled.

She stood up, rubbing her hands along her pants. “Well, I’m gonna get started on supper now. Remember to actually work on your homework, not just talk on the phone, huh?” She said, flicking Felix playfully.

Felix snorted and rolled his eyes. “He’s helping me.”

Reagan laughed. “Uh huh. Sure.”

A part of her wondered if this was just how it was going to be. Felix was sixteen now, as much as Reagan didn’t want to believe it. He was growing up, becoming his own person. He didn’t need her as much anymore. A part of Reagan knew this would eventually happen, Felix was a teenager after all, he was slowly going to become more interested in his friends than his parents, he was going to want to spend more time out. This was good. It was what she had wanted all along, wasn’t it? But she hadn’t expected it to happen so… soon.

It was like yesterday that he was only six years old, grinning at her from the backseat of her beat up old truck and singing along to the song playing on her iPod, grinning happily at their “new adventure” as Reagan pulled out of the driveway to their abuela’s estate. Not a worry in the world.

Reagan couldn’t believe it had really been ten years since that day already.

She didn’t want for the two of them to grow apart. She had thought they were different, they were closer than that. She didn’t want things to change, she wanted Felix to still be able to rely on her, to tell her about his worries, about what he was truly feeling. She didn’t want to lose him too, didn’t know what she’d do if she did.

Despite her instinct to press him further, to push him to open up, to find out the truth about July Roberts, she walked towards the door, for once giving him space. Still, she couldn’t hold back the wave of lingering sadness that washed over her at it.

Felix really was growing up. And soon, he wouldn’t need her at all.

“I’m not going to get caught. This time’s going to be different.” Felix suddenly said, stopping her in her tracks. Reagan paused at the door, turning back to look at him. There seemed to be something deeper to the declaration, this look of pure determination evident in his face.

A memory flashed behind Reagan’s eyes. Felix finding her after school, only months ago, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry.” Was all he said, before he shakily rested his head on her shoulder, unable to look her in the eyes any longer. He’d fought for so long to be able to keep his powers under control. Maybe this, in a way, would be a good thing. Maybe they’d actually make it through the school year this time.

“Okay,” She said softly. “I believe you.”

Something about the look in his eyes calmed her worries. Maybe she’d let her anxiety get the better of her. After all, this was Felix she was talking about. He may have been more distant lately, but that didn’t change the fact that if it was a real problem, something worth worrying about, he would’ve gone to her already. He trusted her…. He wouldn’t have hidden something important from her.

Whatever was bothering him, she was sure it wasn’t a big deal.

[theladyofdeath]

Really late request but could we get an elorcan Valentine’s Day fic?

A/N: Elorcan? Always. It's short, but I hope you like it! x (ps. I really love writing from Lorcan's pov. I swear his grumpy ass is my spirit animal.) Warnings: Language

~ Lorcan ~

I feel fucking ridiculous, standing outside of Elide's door with a heart-shaped pizza and a bouquet of roses. I should've stopped by the liquor store, but I guess it's too late for that now. I'm already here. I've already committed.

Now it's time to hope that it doesn't blow up in my face.

The apartment door across from Elide's opens and an elderly woman steps out. She gives me a knowing look and walks down the hall, out of sight. I try not to glare, reminding myself that she's old as hell and is probably just trying to be nice, but I'm nervous and I can't help it.

I turn back to Elide's door and, before I can think better of it, knock. I hear her walking towards me on the other side of the door, then it's opening, and I suddenly wished I had stayed home.

Grand romantic gestures aren't meant for Valentine's Day.

Grand romantic gestures aren't meant for any day.

As soon as Elide sees me, she freezes. Her eyes travel from mine, to the flowers, to the food, then back to my eyes. Her lips have fallen open, creating the perfect circle.

"Hi," I say, stupidly, once the silence has gone on for too long. "I...Happy Valentine's Day."

Stupid.

So fucking stupid.

Elide's quiet for another minute, and I feel like I'm going to vomit. Maybe I misread all the signs, maybe I'm one of those dumbass cocky bastards who thinks a girl is flirting with him when she's just being friendly. Maybe I mistook our "friendship" for something greater and she sees me as just a friend - or worse, a brother.

Fuck. "I-"

"You brought me flowers," she says, and her eyes soften as she finds her words.

"And pizza," I say, because apparently I can't say anything worth an ounce of intelligence.

Wine. I should've at least brought wine.

Elide steps aside, her eyes remaining on mine. "Come in."

I do, following her inside. As she shuts the door behind me, I slide the pizza box on the kitchen island and hold out the flowers.

"I wasn't sure what kind of flowers you like, but I thought I couldn't go wrong with roses."

She walks to me gingerly and takes them. Our fingers brush one another's, and she smiles brightly. "They're beautiful, Lor. Thank you."

I nod, watching her scurry around the kitchen, searching for a vase. She finds one, fills it with water, and puts the roses inside, admiring them.

"Am I really that pathetic?"

This question makes me frown. "The hell are you talking about?"

"My best friend is the one bringing me roses on Valentine's Day. When I told you I didn't have a date, I didn't mean that you had to do this." She chuckles, looking back towards the flowers. "I'm grateful, don't get me wrong, but you could've been out with whoever the hell you want, Lor. You didn't have to come try and make me feel better for being alone on Valentine's Day."

She meets my gaze, but I'm already staring at her. I repeat, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Her smile falters and turns to one of confusion. "I- what the hell are you talking about?"

We stare at one another, trying to gauge what we're thinking. It's not anything new. We have staredowns like this often, both being stubborn as hell but not wanting to admit it.

Now's not the time for stubbornness, though. I've made it this far. "I don't feel sorry for you."

Her brows furrow. "Don't try and sugarcoat it, damn."

"No," I say, and can't help but laugh at her sudden offense, "I meant that I'm not here because I feel sorry for you. I'm here because..."

The words catch in my throat. The last time I said those three little words, it didn't turn out so well for me. Now, the thought of saying them again, is daunting.

Even if I feel them more now than I ever did before.

Elide watches me, confused, intrigued. Her cheeks have turned a soft shade of pink and her breathing has increased. She steps toward me, and the words fall out of me.

"I don't feel sorry for you," I say, quietly. "I love you, Elide. And, like a fucking cliche, I decided to come tell you on Valentine's Day."

A thousand emotions cross Elide's face, but I don't have too much time to contemplate my mistake because she crosses the space between us and pulls my face down to hers, kissing me urgently. I'm so shocked that I freeze for a moment, but when her tongue slides against mine, I lean into her, wrapping her in my arms, bringing her close to me.

I don't know how long we kiss, because I'm completely lost in it, but then she leans back and says, "I love you, too."

I want to say good, because I didn't realize how much I needed to hear it back, how much I would've hated myself if she didn't feel the same, but then we're kissing again, and I'm picking her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. We make our way to the couch, where I lay her down and take my time with her, slowly.

By the time we get to the pizza, it's cold, but worth it.

Absolutely worth it.

[x-ceirios-x]

(Part 4) City of Lost Souls, Chapter 19: Love and Blood

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

(I usually don't put cws on these because its all canon typical violence/language usually, but this is probably one of the worst scenes with Sebastian. warnings under the cut but the worst of it doesn't start for a short while)

cw: Sebastian being Sebastian unfortunately. SA/attempted r/pe, weird incest-y shit ONLY on sebastian's end, it's that arc im sorry. Sebastian literally beating up a teenager, Clary tries to kill Sebastian tho so good for her

Clary dashed down the hallway and hit the steps with a clatter, racing for the downstairs and for the spot on the wall that Jace had told her was the only entrance and exit from the apartment. 

She had no illusions that she could escape. Even if she could, what about Jensen? She had a thought, a brief one, but the guilt pooled in her stomach at the thought. She heard Sebastian’s boots loud on the glass staircase behind her, and put on a burst of speed, almost slamming into the wall. His presence convinced her; she knew what she had to do. She jammed the stele into it, point-first, drawing frantically: a pattern as simple as a cross, new to the world—

Sebastian’s fist closed on the back of her jacket, jerking her backward, the stele flying out of her hand. She gasped as he swung her up off her feet and slammed her into the wall, knocking the breath out of her. He glanced at the mark she had made on the wall, and his lips curled into a sneer. 

“The Opening rune?” he said. He leaned forward and hissed into her ear. “And you didn’t even finish it. Not that it matters. Do you really think there’s a place on this earth you could go where I couldn’t find you?”

Clary responded with an epithet that would have gotten her kicked out of class at St. Xavier’s. Just as he started to laugh, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face so hard, her fingers stung. In his surprise he loosened her grip on her, and she jerked away from him and flipped herself over the table, making for the downstairs bedroom, which at least had a lock on the door—

And he was in front of her, grabbing the lapels of her jacket and swinging her around. Her feet went out from under her, and she would have fallen if he hadn’t pinned her to the wall with his body, his arms to either side, making a cage around her. 

His grin was diabolical. Gone was the stylish boy who’d strolled by the Seine with her and drunk got chocolate and talked about belonging. His eyes were all black, no pupil, like tunnels. “What’s wrong, little sis? You look upset.”

She could barely catch her breath. “Cracked…my…nail polish…slapping your…worthless face. See?” she showed him her finger—just one of them. 

“Cute.” He snorted. “You know how I knew you’d betray us? How I knew you wouldn’t be able to help it? Because you’re too much like me.” 

He pressed her back harder against the wall. She could feel his chest rise and fall against hers. She was at eye level with the straight, sharp line of his collarbone. His body felt like a prison around hers, pinning her in place. “I’m nothing like you. Let me go—”

“You’re everything like me,” he growled into her ear. “You infiltrated us. You faked friendship, faked caring.”

“I never had to fake caring about Jace.”

She saw something flash in his eyes then, a dark jealousy, and she wasn’t even sure who he was jealous of. He put his lips against her cheek, close enough that she felt them move against her skin when he spoke. “You screwed us over,” he murmured. His hand was around her left arm like a vise; slowly he began to move it down. “Probably literally screwed Jace over—”

She couldn't help it, she flinched. She felt him inhale sharply. "You did," he said. "You slept with him." He sounded almost betrayed.

"It's none of your business."

He caught at her face, turning her to look at him, fingers digging into her chin. "You can't screw someone into being good. Nicely heartless move, though." His lovely mouth curved into a cold smile. "You know he doesn't remember any of it, right? Did he show you a good time, at least? Because I would have."

She tasted bile in her throat. "You're my brother."

"Those words don't mean anything where we're concerned

We aren't human. Their rules don't apply to us. Stupid laws about what DNA can be mixed with what. Hypocritical, really, considering. We're already experiments. The rulers of ancient Egypt used to marry their siblings, you know. Cleopatra married her brother. Strengthens the bloodline."

She looked at him with loathing. "I knew you were crazy," she said. "But I didn't realize you were absolutely, spectacularly out of your goddamned mind."

"Oh, I don't think there's anything crazy about it. Who do we belong with but each other?"

"Jace," she said. "I belong with Jace."

He made a dismissive noise. "You can have Jace."

"I thought you needed him."

"I do. But not for what you need him for." His hands were suddenly on her waist. "We can share him. I don't care what you do. As long as you know you belong to me."

She raised her hands, meaning to shove him away. "I don't belong to you. I belong to me."

The look in his eyes froze her in place. "I think you know better than that," he said, and brought his mouth down on hers, hard.

For a moment she was back in Idris, standing in front of the burned Fairchild manor, and Sebastian was kissing her, and she felt as if she were falling into darkness, into a tunnel that had no end. At the time she'd thought there was something wrong with her. That she couldn't kiss anyone but Jace. That she was broken.

With a muffled noise of frustration, Sebastian fell into her, something knocking him off balance. He narrowly avoided hitting his head against hers, instead, knocking his forehead into the wall. He’d been pushed—no, hit—by something. 

Someone. Clary stared as Jensen stood there, her stele in hand, breath heaving. There was blood running down his face, pouring from a gash above his eye, the area around it already beginning to bruise. His chest heaved and, to her, he looked like he was about to pass out, but there was blood on the tip of the stele. He’d managed to hit Sebastian. 

He was halfway through an iratze on his opposite arm when Sebastian turned around, grabbing the boy by the throat. He entirely ignored Clary, spinning on his heel to run after his latest assailant. 

“I thought I told you,” Sebastian said over Jensen’s yelp of pain and struggling to breathe, “to stay put?” He pried the stele out of the boy’s hand and held it in front of his face. “I healed you enough. You won’t bleed out with those wounds. Would you rather reopen them? Bleed out right here? You’re not pathetic enough for that kind of death.”

Clary’s legs started working again and she pulled herself from her shock, lunging for Sebastian. He put out a hand to stop her, catching her face and holding her an arm’s reach away. She swiped at him, attempting to hit him, but she couldn’t reach. He swung her around like he was swinging a baseball bat and flung her at the wall. She hit it hard and sank to her knees, the breath knocked out of her.

“You just had to get in the way, didn’t you?” he demanded. He dropped the boy by the neck, instead grabbing his hair and dragging him to the staircase. Jensen cried out. “Didn’t you?” 

“Clary–!” Jensen called, choking on air as it rushed into his lungs. His dull green eyes connected with hers. “Run!” 

Sebastian snarled and threw the boy into the stairs, knocking his head against the stairway. His limp, unconscious body clattered to the floor at his feet, laying in a haphazard ball. She gasped and winced. 

Sebastian started toward her, his hands flexing at his sides, his eyes shimmering black like a shark's. He looked terrifying; Clary knew she ought to be frightened, but a cold, glassy detachment had come over her. Time seemed to have slowed.

She remembered the fight in the junk shop in Prague, how she had disappeared into her own world where each movement was as precise as the movement of a watch. Sebastian reached down toward her, and she pushed up, off the ground, sweeping her legs sideways, knocking his feet out from under him.

He fell forward, and she rolled out of the way, bouncing to her feet. She didn't bother trying to run this time. Instead she grabbed the porcelain vase off the table and, as Sebastian rose to his feet, swung it at his head. It shattered, spraying water and leaves, and he staggered back, blood blooming against his white-silver hair.

He snarled and sprang at her. It was like being slammed by a wrecking ball. Clary flew backward, smashing through the glass tabletop, and hit the ground in an explosion of shards and agony. She screamed as Sebastian landed on top of her, driving her body down into the shattered glass, his lips drawn back in a snarl. He brought his arm down backhanded and cracked her across the face. Blood blinded her; she choked on the taste of it in her mouth, and its salt stung her eyes. She jerked up her knee, catching him in the stomach, but it was like kicking a wall. He grabbed her hands, forcing them down by her sides.

"Clary, Clary, Clary," he said. He was gasping. At least she'd winded him. Blood ran in a slow trickle from a gash on the side of his head, staining his hair scarlet. "Not bad. You weren't much of a fighter back in Idris."

"Get off me-

He moved his face close to hers. His tongue darted out. She tried to jerk away but couldn't move fast enough as he licked the blood off the side of her face, and grinned. The grin split his lip, and more blood ran in a trickle down his chin. "You asked me who I belong to," he whispered. "I belong to you.

Your blood is my blood, your bones my bones. The first time you saw me, I looked familiar, didn't I? Just like you looked familiar to me."

She gaped at him. "You're out of your mind."

"It's in the Bible," he said. "The Song of Solomon. Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.' His fingers brushed her throat, looping into the chain there, the chain that had held the Morgenstern ring. She wondered if he would crush her windpipe. "I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love." His blood dripped onto her face. She held herself still, her body humming with the effort, as his hand slipped from her throat, along her side, to her waist. His fingers slid inside the waistband of her jeans. His skin was hot, burning; she could feel that he wanted her.

"You don't love me," she said. Her voice was thin; he was crushing the air from her lungs. She remembered what her mother had said, that every emotion Sebastian showed was a pretense. Her thoughts were clear as crystal; she silently thanked the battle euphoria for doing what it had to do and keeping her focused while Sebastian sickened her with his touch.

"And you don't care that I'm your brother," he said. "I know how you felt about Jace, even when you thought he was your brother. You can't lie to me."

"Jace is better than you."

"No one's better than me." He grinned, all white teeth and blood. "’A garden enclosed is my sister’," he said. "’A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.' But not anymore, right? Jace took care of that." He fumbled at the button on her jeans, and she took advantage of his distraction to seize up a good-size triangular piece of glass from the ground and slam the jagged edge of it into his shoulder.

The glass slid along her fingers, slicing them open. He yelled, jerking back, but more in surprise than pain; the gear protected him. She slashed the glass down harder, this time into his thigh, and when he reared back, she drove her other elbow into his throat. He went sideways, choking, and she rolled, pinning him under her as she yanked the bloody glass free of his leg. She drove the shard down toward the pulsing vein in his neck-and stopped.

He was laughing. He lay under her, and he was laughing, his laughter vibrating up through her own body. His skin was spattered with blood—her blood, dripping down on him, his own blood where she had cut him, his silver-white hair matted with it. He let his arms fall to either side of him, outstretched like wings, a broken angel, fallen out of the sky.

He said, "Kill me, little sister. Kill me, and you kill Jace, too."

She brought the glass shard down.

[the-savage-garden]

Nitpicking ACOWAR Ch 8

I'm going to have to start posting individual chapter notes for a little while because I got real nitpicky the next chapter. Might still do it after too. Hopefully I'll be able to eventually post more chapters in one post because it's getting ridiculous for me doing it this way.

Chapter 8

-Tamlin gets mad at Lucien and Feyre for retaliating against the weird twins for some reason.

-Tamlin wanted to deal with the twins his way. Tamlin expected better from Lucien but he wasn’t surprised by Feyre’s actions.

-[“That’s the sort of thinking,” I snapped, clutching the armrests, “that has allowed for a wall to be the only solution between our two peoples; for the Fae to look at these sorts of murders and not care.”] Did… Feyre just imply that Tamlin doesn’t care about humans?

-I know Tamlin has a temper but why does it matter to him if Lucien and Feyre sent the Bogge after the twins? In the first book he hated Hybern! This book mentions the 1st one and references scenes but then changes and adds things that weren’t there before! UGH.

-Lucien tries to reason with Tamlin but since Feyre has made sure their friendship is falling apart now Tamlin doesn’t trust Lucien anymore.

-Feyre targets all of Tamlin’s triggers to get him to lash out at her and she doesn’t shield herself. She’s become a manipulator now because of Rhys, I miss her old character from the 1st book.

-[“What have you done,” Lucien breathed, and Tamlin’s face was the picture of devastation as Lucien shoved him aside. He let Lucien shove him aside and help me stand.] This reminds me of something, like a scene from a movie.

-”The sentries—Bron and Hart, two of Tamlin’s favorite lord-warriors among them—were gaping, attention torn between the wrecked study and my face.” Keeping a note of these minor characters' names.

-Feyre and her stupid naming of her paintings. Ugh.

-Useless bathtub scene and Rhys asking how Feyre is doing.

-”Perhaps I’d been too good at keeping those healing powers at bay. “ Haha, you sure are good with your powers, que eye roll.

-Have I said how much I hate possessive male characters yet? Because I really hate possessive male characters! Ick. Tamlin I had been meh about but Rhys? I have no interest in him. He’s a creep.

-Feyre goes on a ride with Bron and Hart.

-Tamlin begged Feyre for forgiveness which she accepted (because she’s a manipulator) but Lucien avoids Tamlin.

-The naga attack after midnight.

-Tamlin will be dealing with the guard that lost the keys.

-”We all gathered outside the barracks the next morning, Lucien’s face pallid and drawn, purple smudges beneath his glazed eyes. He hadn’t returned to his room last night.” I don’t know what this has to do with anything?

-When did Tamlin become someone that punishes people? Is it because of Hybern being there? I’m still so confused by the world-building in this book.

-”...the ropes restraining him groaning as he strained against them.” What is up with this grammar? Is it just me that finds this odd?

-The sentry had apparently fallen asleep, probably because of Feyre.

-“Twenty lashes. And one more, for the Cauldron’s forgiveness.” This sounds more like human punishment than Fae but what do I know? SJM makes the rules around here.

-”I made my move. Slid my power into the bound sentry’s mind and freed the memory I’d coiled up tightly in his head—freed his tongue, too.” Making note of this.

-Sentry says that Ianthe took the keys.

-Wait, did Ianthe cause the naga attack? I thought it was Feyre that did that? Is the book gaslighting me?

-”It wasn’t fear of pain that propelled him, I realized. No, the lashings would have been deserved and earned and borne well. It was the fear of honor lost.” Huh?

-”I kept my focus on him, even as I counted my breaths, even as I prayed that Ianthe would take the bait—” I need to keep this in mind.

-Tamlin is suspicious of Ianthe.

-Brannagh calls them pathetic. For some reason this makes Spring look weak to Hybern.

-When has Tamlin cared about laws and traditions? I guess since the 2nd book.

-”In this … in this, my revenge edged toward something oily, something foreign and queasy. He would heal from the pain, but the blow to his honor … It’d take a little piece out of mine as well.” It’s almost like you’re doing a bad thing, Feyre.

-Tamlin being backed into a corner.

-”And like I’d gambled, Tamlin’s need for control, for strength, won out.” What are you even talking about? Tamlin literally doesn’t have a choice in this!

-”Ianthe was too important an ally to risk isolating. The word of a low sentry … no, it did not matter as much as hers.” Keeping note of this.

-”They had no idea—none—that I’d goaded her into it, pushed and pushed her to reveal just what a snake she was. How little anyone without a title meant to her.” I’m pretty sure this is still on Feyre, it doesn’t matter what Ianthe has done, Feyre manipulated everyone to get the right results to cause all this. She’s putting all the blame on Ianthe so that she doesn’t look like the bad guy.

-”How Tamlin listened to her without question—to a fault.” I don’t even know why Tamlin listens to Ianthe at all.

-”The sentries were sizing up Ianthe, the royals. Tamlin had always been one of them—fought for them. Until now. Until Hybern. Until he put these foreign monsters before them.” It’s almost like Tamlin did it to save someone he loved.

[fallingforel]

arabella pt 13.- Tolerate it.

SERIES MASTERLIST BLOG MASTERLIST

"Matty is our main focus right now. Not the band. Not hann and I. Not Alex and I. so don’t you even dare George. The band doesn’t matter right now”

⋆｡°✩

6 weeks later.

Okay. So maybe I was wrong when I said that I'd be okay as soon as Matty went to rehab. But I wasn't I didn't know how to live without him. He was the glue that held our friendship group together. Now that he's gone we've all fallen out. I'm on the outs with both George and Adam. I'm close to being on the outs with Ross too, having snapped at him one too many times this past 4 weeks. He's been strong, he knows that I am worried about Matty. We all are, he just hides it better.

Matty... I haven't spoken to him since he left for barbados. He said that It would be hard to keep contact. It will just make him want to come home. He didn't want that. He wanted to get better. For everyone's sake. They left the album behind for him to record his vocals when he got back. When that would be nobody knew.

Apart from Deliah. she had been his point of contact, having not known her for that long it made it easier to keep in touch with him, without actually being in touch. She wouldn't tell us when he was coming back. Because in all honest Matty didn't know either. He had his bad days and good. Rehabilitation wasn't a one way street it had a lot of twists and turns but it would get you to the final destination eventually. Sobriety. That was what we all wanted for Matty so we decided to respect his decisions.

As for Alex. He came down after finishing his mexican leg. I didn't stay very long in Wilmslow. Just until Matty left. Alex came down to visit in that time though. Met my parents, safe to say he was a hit. Though my dad gave him the talk "if you hurt my daughter I hurt you back ten times harder". But then 2 weeks ago I was in his apartment looking for my bra which had been thrown on the floor and then pushed under the bed as i went to go grab it my hand felt papers so I naturally picked them up, they were poems written in the style of love letters, one was dated to about two weeks ago, it broke my heart because they weren't addressed to me they were addressed to a girl named Flo and another addressed to Alexa. I didn't have time to dwell on it though because we were due to go out so I left it and shoved them back under the bed.

My job was still going steady, I featured in 2 music videos. One for a relatively new band one direction and one for Alex again. He insisted. And I even did London fashion week, It was a definitely a pinch me moment. Walking alongside people like Kate Moss and Cara Delevingne. Everyone was so lovely. It was bittersweet that George Adam and Matty couldn't be there, but Ross, Alex and my parents were there.

Right now though, I am currently sitting in a coffee shop in london waiting for Ross. He said he had a surprise for me. Whenever Ross said he had a surprise it usually wasn't a good one. It usually involved something nobody liked, illegal or dangerous. One year when we were all 15 Ross decided to steal his parents car drive it to the rec so we could all smoke weed somewhere warm. It probably wasn't a good idea though. Because Denise was coming back late from a shoot in a car she saw us, and heard us (no thanks to Matty), Dragged us back to our houses and we were all grounded for a month. Matty getting 2 since Denise never let him off easy.

The scraping of a chair to the side of me slipped me from my thoughts. "What do you want Ross?" "Wow. Whatever happened to hello?" "Just shut up and tell me what you want" "Okay, well I'm staging an intervention. This has gone on way too long this arguing between you and Adam and you and George. I'm fed up of the distance you've put up. Matty certainly doesn't need it for when he gets back. Apologize please. George is on his way now. Adam has to make a stop first."

I hate to admit it but Ross was right. I had put up a wall between me and everyone. Matty didn't deserve that for when he returned. I also hated not knowing what was going on with George and Adam, it was like a piece of me was missing. Like I wasn't properly whole.

The bell rang throughout the cafe. snapping me from my thoughts again. George stood there. Pulling up a chair on the opposite side of where Ross and I were sat. Silence rang deep through the three of us. None of us speaking.

"G..." I started soon cut off "Y/n. don't I was completely in the wrong. I shouldn't have assumed. Shouldn't have blamed Matty for something that wasn't his fault in the first place, I was wrong. And for that I'm sorry" "G. It's okay. I forgive you. It was a very stressful time. I understand the immense pressure you were under." "Okay friends again? Hug?" I let out an immense puff of breath I hadn't realised I had been holding. Shoulders dropping. "yes please I've missed my tree hugs these past 6 weeks" I say standing up and walking around the table to hug him.

We stayed like that for a good few minutes before George broke the hug pulling away. And sitting down. I followed in his steps sitting on mine and Ross' side. "Have either of you heard from Dee?" we both shook our heads. "I haven't spoken to her on the Matty front since hearing about him stroking horses." I said "Oh weird. How long ago was that?" "About a week ago. she said he should be coming out soon. He's come on leaps and bounds apparently" I said.

"I hope its soon" A voice broke out. There stood Adam. I hadn't seen him in about a month. He looked different. Like he hadn't slept in weeks the bags under his eyes more prominent, I had never noticed them before. He looked stressed, probably was.

"Adam!" I said getting up to hug him. "I'm sorry, I should've realized that it was hard on you. I didn't realize it would effect you that much."

"It's not that. That's not the reason for my eye bags. My cousins visiting. She's driving me insane. She's being so loud at night. Don't get me wrong I love her. You all know I love Flo but man sometimes. She's mad that I didn't tell her about Matty. She's going off at me anytime I'm around her I'm currently avoiding her." Adam says

"well... that's wheels for you" George says after Adam finishes.

"I'm sorry...who the fuck is wheels. And why do I not know about her? Why does she all know you so much?" I say questioning everything that Adam had said. "She's Adam's cousin. She spent her summers over in Wilmslow. You wouldn't know her because you were always in Brighton whenever she was over. So you would have never bumped into her." "Makes sense invite her over." Just as I say that.

"ADAM!! look who I found while chasing you down." A woman with brown hair walks in and tugs on my boyfriends arm. Why is Adams cousin with my boyfriend? I'm so confused right now.

"ALEX!!!!" I say running up to him. hugging him

"hey babe." he says hugging me back.

"I wasn't aware you were back in London?" "Just got back last night. Was just walking to your place and bumped into Flo. Thought she was still in Sheffield. Apparently not." "You are going to have to explain how you know Adam's cousin though I'm so confused right now" Of course I already knew how he knew her the love letters but that wasn't anything to say because he didn't know I knew about them. "She's my best mate has been since forever, she's in the same friendship group as everyone else in the band is so..."

"fair enough, go sit down I'll grab you a coffee. It's on me this time. You bought the last lot." I say kissing him on the lips and urging him to go and sit down with the rest of them.

While I'm stood in the queue. Flo in front of me she turns around. "I don't think we've properly met. I'm Flo. Friends with the whole lot of that table over there" She says extending her hand out with a smile plastered on her face

"I’m y/n, How long have you known G, Ross and Matty for?" "Since I was 17. I'm 26 now. So... A long time. How about you how long have you known them for?"

"Since we were babies, Matty's mum and mine were best friends for ages before Matty and I were born. So naturally that lot came wherever Matty went and Matty went wherever I went. Our Mum's used to say we were attached at the hip."

"So you must be missing him like mad then?"

"yeah just a little bit. It feels weird not having my sidekick with me through everything."

"yeah I can imagine. I don't know what I would do if Matt or Alex wasn't with me all the time." she says.

"Oh so you and Alex are quite attached then?" I say the jealousy leaking out a bit.

"Oh. HAHA" she says. Walking over and getting her coffee and going to sit down next to Alex. weird.

I couldn't help but be worried she just laughed and walked off. 'stop worrying y/n you have nothing to worry about, you and Alex are completely fine' My thoughts in my head were all over the place, I had no one to talk to since Matty left. He was my point of contact all the time we would talk for hours and hours about everything and anything he would calm me down, he was there for me when my ex cheated on me. He was there when my dad went to rehab. And for him not to be here when everything was turning to shit it sucked. I didn't know what to do.

"latte and croissant" The person at the till shouted snapping me out of my thoughts. I grabbed my coffee and croissant and went to sit back down next to George this time seen as Flo had sat down next to Alex.

What I didn't notice before is how close Alex and Flo actually were they were laughing and hugging every few moments, if anyone walked past our table at that moment in time they would think that Alex and Flo were together not Alex and I.

"so, Flo what do you do?"

"I'm a painter, I've found a gallery that's holding an exhibition. I've also designed both the monkeys and the 1975's merch. even after they changed their name many times. Was thinking about leaving them high and dry. Then I heard about Matty going to rehab so I thought better. I actually have the rough drafts for both of your merch guys. Do you want to see" They all answered yeah. And so I realised that was my time to slip out this didn't involve me not feeling the greatest about Alex and Flo already.

⋆｡°✩

"hey dee" I said after the phone call indicated that dee had picked up "hey y/n you okay?"

"yeah just wondering if you had a date yet?" "You're missing him loads huh?" "yeah, just a bit he's my ride or die. I'm going insane. I have no one to talk shit with" "yeah I understand. I do have a date actually. But I'm not allowed to say he wants it to be kept a surprise" "Oh?" I say my eyebrow extending.

"yeah. Look listen all I can say is it's soon and in no time you'll have your bestfriend back. Won't be long now"

"Thanks dee. talk to you tomorrow?"

"yes. Talk to you tomorrow love."

⋆｡°✩

After talking to dee I decided to go home. I just felt like my social battery had died and wanted to be home alone so I jumped on to the tube.

Arriving at my flat I noticed the door was unlocked and left ajar. That's odd. I was completely sure I had locked and closed it before I left.

I put my keys in between my knuckles until I got inside then I grabbed my bat by my door that Matty insisted I kept there when I moved out to London.

Humming broke out through the flat.

Then soft singing.

A one direction song.

"they don't know about us"

I knew that voice.

I edged towards the kitchen where the singing was coming from, just to be sure.

I was oh so sure.

Here he was in my flat. singing. making what looked like eggs.

I dropped the bat the sound echoing through my flat. Making him turn around.

"Geez bug. scare a guy why don't you?"

"Scare you? How about you scaring me? You broke in."

"Not exactly, I had a key."

"You left my door open you idiot" I slapped him on the chest

"OUCH."

"Grow up. You went to rehab not the hospital."

"If you don't recall. I was in the hospital before I went to rehab"

"Just shut up" I say before going into hug him. He happily obliges. Lifting me up off the ground and spinning me around.

⋆｡°✩

"You know when Dee said you'd be back soon. I didn't think she meant this soon."

"yes well, I didn't think it would be this soon until last week when my therapist said he thinks I'm better. well better enough to cope on the outside world anyway. anyway, enough about me. what happened while I was away?"

"G and I had an argument. so did Adam and I but we've patched things up now. I'm back at work doing prep for london fashion week. I have 3 tickets. I was just going to sell them seen as mum and dad can't make it down. But since your here, you can have one. I don't know about the other two though."

"What about Alex?"

"what about him?"

"why is it that you aren't taking him"

"ugh. I found some letters the other day while roaming about his flat. It seemed like love letters Matty. The oldest one was two weeks ago they was addressed to girls named Alexa and flo. and then flo turned up laughed in my face and was acting all loved up with Alex... What if he's cheating on me?"

"Nooooo.... surely not wheels and Alex. Last thing I knew she was dating peter."

"yes...well believe it cause it's very real" I say back

“I just can’t believe it….surely not”

“I don’t know but I just can’t think properly”

“Message him, ask him to talk”

“okay.”

⋆｡°✩

A/n: so it’s finally here after a few months i’ve just been so busy and had really bad writers block but i think this has to be one of my favourite fics… a massive thank you to @imagine-that-100 to letting me use Flo’s character from @nriacc I loved that fic so much so a big big thank you and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it 💕💕

[krikeymate]

Hey, I hope you're doing good.

In your last post, you wrote that their "relationship" is a secret for obvious (and sick) reasons. If it ever comes out, Sam wants to see Amber burn (he he...see what I did here), but how would the others react? Wes, Liv, and the twins were all friends with Amber, and it must be a shock to realize that she took advantage of someone who's like a little sister to all of them, right?

They don't actually have a relationship in a romantic/sexual manner... it's complicated. Have you never had a friendship you've been uncomfortable sharing with other people, or that other people have openly disapproved of? I have, so I guess what I'm trying to say makes so much sense to me but not to a lot of other people.

So here's how Amber's behaviour with Tara is once she meets Richie: pet names, flirting, constantly brushing her hair back or touching her face/shoulders/arms with the intention of flustering her.

Before Richie, some of that still applied. She'd call her darling, and brush her hair out of her face and caress her cheek and hold her hand. But then, so did everyone else.

Most of Amber's grooming takes place digitally via constant texting and online communication. That said, there is definitely a time where Amber offers to teach Tara how to kiss and she does (they're 14 and 19). It's soon after Sam catches Tara kissing a boy and freaks out about it. Her overreaction pushes Tara away, and Amber is there to take advantage of it by reassuring Tara she did nothing wrong. Sam comes home on that day and is displeased to find Amber there. She doesn't like the way Tara is all flustered and won't meet her eyes, and the way Amber looks so smug. She sees something in her eyes she doesn't like and kicks her out, tells her she's not welcome here if Sam isn't here. That sets Tara off and they argue again. The words "you just want me to be as alone and miserable as you" were definitely spoken (yelled). (Don't judge Tara too harshly, she's going through a lot.)

The truth of the matter doesn't come out until 4 years later when they're attacked in New York. I don't actually mention the twins in that post, so I'm not sure where they end up. I think realistically Sam's 'family' has fallen apart by that point. The twins were the only ones left and they went to University the year after the first attack, and Sam's so focused on helping her sister heal that she doesn't have time to think about others. Plus, Judy and Wes' death hits her so much harder because of how close she was to them. Judy was like a mother to her! I don't think she would tell the twins once she learns either, because it's not her story to tell.

Now obviously if it had come out before everything went down, they all would have been horrified. Tara is like a little sister to them all, she's their baby sister, and the thought that anyone - that one of them - could do that to her, could mess with her like that, it would kill them. Say they like, walk in on Amber over Tara, I think Mindy would probably react the fastest, she would be on Amber in a second slapping the shit out of her. Chad would manhandle her out of the room, Wes would call his mother. In the AU none of them ever think there is anything weird about Tara's relationship with Amber, because it never even occurs to them that Amber would do something like that.

Sidenote, do you know what is never mentioned, never bought up when talking about 'grooming' in Scream 5? Vince and Liv. That was fucking skeevy.

[tikosblogg]

FREE FALL// pt 5

Summary: Roxanne lived her life in foster care, after her parent’s lives were ripped away. Leaving her alone. She’s lost all hope, her will to live…until she meets him.

Warnings: talks of suicide. Depression, anxiety, abuse, mention of death. Please do not read if that triggers you. Smut (eventually) angst.

A/N: was finally able to get a longer chapter out. Hope you guys enjoy❤️

The city lights below twinkled like a million fallen stars, reflecting in the dusty windows of the abandoned building. The air was thick with the scent of dust and anticipation. It was our last meet-up, our final night on this rooftop haven. For months, we’d been clinging to these once-a-month hangouts, a lifeline in a sea of distance and growing uncertainty. Now, Noah was leaving for Los Angeles, chasing his dreams, leaving me behind with a heart full of bittersweet longing.

The air crackled with unspoken words. We had always danced around the truth, the fear of jeopardizing the fragile balance of our friendship. But tonight, Noah spoke openly. His voice, usually playful and teasing, was laced with an unfamiliar seriousness. 'I care about you, you know,' he said, his eyes searching mine. 'More than you probably realize.'

The words hit me like a tidal wave. I had sensed it, the way he looked at me, the way his laughter seemed to light up the night, but hearing him say it out loud sent a tremor through me. I wanted to reach out, to tell him how much his presence meant to me, how much his absence would hurt, but the words seemed to get stuck in my throat.

Instead, I just nodded, tears welling in my eyes. He pulled me close, the warmth of his body a comforting anchor in the swirling emotions. I buried my face in his chest, the fabric of his shirt absorbing the tears that spilled freely.

For a while, we just stood there, enveloped in a silence that spoke volumes. The city lights blurred through my tears. I didn't want to let go, but we both knew it was time. We had to return to our separate lives, back to the harsh reality of distance and uncertainty. “I don't know when I'll see you again,' Noah said, his voice husky. 'But I will.'

His words were a promise, a lifeline thrown out across the vast expanse of our separation. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was enough. I looked up at him with a small smile. “Well I’ll still be here. Once a month, waiting for you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a soft, tender kiss. It was a farewell, a whisper of hope, a promise whispered against the backdrop of a city that felt both familiar and alien all at once. Then, with one last hug I turned and walked away, each step taking us further apart, leaving behind a piece of my heart on that dusty rooftop under the moon light.

I walked into the night, the echo of his kiss lingering on my lips, the promise of a future yet unwritten warming me from within. The road ahead was uncertain, but I knew that somewhere out there, under a different sky, Noah was chasing his dreams, carrying a piece of my heart with him. And that was enough.

3 months later

For three interminable months, I have endured the relentless wrath of Jamie.

As days turned into nights, her cruel words cut through me like a sharp blade. Insults were hurled with abandon, leaving me shattered and hollow. The abuse was a daily ritual, each blow chipping away at what little self-esteem I have left.

Noah had vanished after our final meet up. leaving me alone to face this torment. His absence has created a gaping void in my heart, amplifying the pain I feel. The dreams of a life beyond these walls seems like a cruel joke.

As the sun began its descent, I found myself curled up on my mattress. My body aching from my daily beatings. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered Noah's name into the void. "Why did you leave me?" I sobbed.

6 months later

The rusted metal of the fire escape groaned under my weight as I descended, my heart thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings against my ribs. The city stretched out below, a tapestry of neon and shadows, but my gaze was fixed on the dilapidated hospital across the street.

Six months. Six months since Noah had packed his bags, and left for LA. Six months I’ve been sneaking out of that hell hole, my heart holding a fragile thin thread of his promise. Every month, I’d climb the fire escape, the familiar rasp of the metal grating against my palms a comforting ritual. Every month, I’d sit on the rooftop of this hospital, the wind whipping my hair, the city lights glittering like fallen stars. Every month, I’d wait.

But Noah never came.

The wind howled around me, carrying the scent of rain and distant exhaust fumes. The city felt vast and cold, a cruel reminder of my loneliness. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the city lights into shimmering streaks. I felt a familiar ache in my chest, a gnawing emptiness that threatened to consume me.

I closed my eyes, picturing Noah’s laughter, his warm touch, the way his eyes would light up when he looked at me. The memory was a bittersweet sting, a reminder of what I have lost, what I might never have again. A dark thought slithered into my mind, wrapping its tendrils around my heart.

If Noah wasn't coming back, what was the point of holding on? When it wasn’t even guaranteed that he was? Why would he? What if I just let go? What if I jumped?

The wind whispered through the crumbling walls of the abandoned building, carrying my thoughts like fallen leaves. The rooftop seemed to tilt beneath me, the city lights winking, taunting me with their indifference.

I stood up, the edge of the rooftop a mere step away. The wind snatched at my hair, tugging me towards the abyss. My gaze fell upon the distant skyline, where the lights of the city shined bright. But their brilliance offered no solace, only a cruel mockery of the void that consumed me.

Memories surged through my mind like a relentless tide, each wave crashing into me with an unbearable weight. I thought about Noah's infectious smile, his gentle touch, and the way his eyes sparkled with hope. But those memories were now bittersweet shards, cutting deep into my wounded heart.

He had left me behind, lured by the siren call of fame and fortune in Los Angeles. My heart was heavy, but I was so proud. I let him go , leaving me alone. The pain was unbearable at first, but over time, it had transformed into a dull ache that lingered like a phantom limb.

Now, standing on the brink. I felt the weight of my despair pulling me down. The dark thoughts whispered insidious promises, urging me to let go and find a way to escape the torment. The wind seemed to echo their taunts, carrying them like whispers from the void itself.

With trembling hands, I stepped forward, now only several stories keeping me separated from the unforgiving city below. I could feel the height threatening to overwhelm me, but a strange determination welled up within me. I had faced my pain head-on for too long, and I was tired of living in the shadow of what could have been.

Slowly, I released a breath and stepped back from the edge. The wind toyed with my hair and clothes, as if testing my resolve. But I stood firm, My eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

At that moment, a new realization dawned on me. My life didn’t end when Noah left. It was merely a different chapter, a chapter that I had the power to write for myself.

11 months and 30 days later…

Noah’s pov

The roar of the crowd faded into a hushed murmur as Bad Omens filed backstage, the air thick with the remnants of sweat and adrenaline. I slumped onto a worn leather couch, the weight of the world settling on my shoulders. My usual vibrant energy felt muted, replaced by a melancholic stillness that had lingered for the past two days.

The guys have noticed the shift in my demeanor. Jolly sat beside me, a concerned frown creasing his brow. "Hey, man, you alright? You've been awfully quiet." I sighed, my gaze fixed on the floor. "It's been a year."

"A year since what?" Nick joined us, his voice laced with concern. “since I last saw Roxanne," I whispered, the name hanging heavy in the air. "Roxanne?" Folio leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "Who's Roxanne?"

I felt my eyes water. "She's... the girl I met. We were... we were close." I trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the way I feel. "Where is she?" Jolly asked softly.

"Virginia…I hope." I mumbled, my voice barely audible. "I left her, I was all she had. And I haven't seen her since." Jolly's eyes widened. "It's only an hour drive from here. Why don't we go find her?"

The suggestion hung in the air, a beacon of hope in the darkness of my thoughts. Nick and Folio exchanged hesitant glances, unsure about the impromptu road trip. "She probably hates me," I sighed.

Jolly placed a hand on my shoulder. "No, It's not too late. You miss her. I’m sure she misses you. We can go." A spark of hope twinged in my chest. I looked at my best friends, their faces a mix of concern and support. I knew, deep down, that I couldn't stay frozen in time, haunted by memories. I needed to see her now, even if just to know that she was okay. To let her know, I never forgot about her. If I remember correctly she turns 18 tomorrow. She can get the fuck out of there. If she hasn’t…

"Alright," I said, my voice trembling slightly, not even wanting to finish that thought. "Let's go."

The drive was a blur of highways and backroads, filled with nervous anticipation and whispered conversations. We arrived in our hometown just as the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the quaint houses.

I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest as we pulled up to the address I had memorized a year ago. I stalled for a minute, staring at the chipped bricks of the group home she lived at, the place remained silent, its windows dark and lifeless. The wind whipped at my face, stinging my eyes as I scrambled up the fire escape. I could see the faint glow of a streetlamp illuminating Roxy’s window, the one she always used to climb in and out of. I’d watched her do it countless time.

I pulled myself up to the window, my heart hammering in my chest. The room was empty. no crumpled clothes on the floor, no Roxanne. The air hung heavy with the silence of her absence.

I climbed back down, my movements clumsy, my mind reeling. “She's not here,” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. Nick, his face creased with concern, reached out a hand. “What do we do now?”

“We have to find her,” I said, my words clipped, urgent. I felt my chest tighten with panic as there was only one other place I knew she would be "We have to go to Mercy."

"Mercy? Why Mercy?" Nick asked, confused.

"Just drive," I said, my voice tight. "Now!"

Jolly, who had been sitting silently in the driver's seat, started the car. We sped down the deserted road, the headlights slicing through the darkness, leaving a trail of yellow light behind.

When we arrived at the crumbling hospital building, Jolly couldn't hold back his confusion anymore. “Noah, why are we here? It's abandoned! And what about Roxanne?”

I didn't bother answering. I just jumped out of the car and ran towards the looming building, the wind whipping at my hair, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. The rusted iron door creaked open, protesting my harsh intrusion.

I ran through the broken glass doors, ignoring the echoing silence that filled the air. I climbed the stairs, two at a time, my legs burning, my mind focused on a single, desperate thought – find Roxanne.

I reached the rooftop, the wind howling in my ears, the city spread out before me like a miniature, glittering world. I scanned the landscape, hoping to see a flash of color, a sign of life, but there was nothing.

Until the sight of her, to my far right standing on the edge ready to jump filled my vision. It almost brought me to my knees. My body trembling with exhaustion and pure fear ran straight for her. The image of Roxanne's face, her smile, her laughter, flashed before my eyes.