#anyway I wish I possessed the ability to shut up and keep shit inside but I cant so if u saw the first breakdown

[putridmoon]

.

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part six Word count: ±3400 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part six summary: Sam goes back to Zoë’s hotel to pick up his lost phone, but the state he finds her in is both shocking and familiar. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​​ and @deanwanddamons​​​. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     Preparing himself for a rant, Sam knocks on the door of room 17. He’s standing in the corridor of the Hampton Inn after the receptionist allowed him upstairs, recognizing him from the night before and believing his story when he gave her an excuse. It takes a while before someone grants him access to the suite, but when he’s about to knock for the second time, the door opens.      “Sam...” Zoë grunts, sounding like a sixty year old whiskey drinker who smokes at least a pack a day. 

     As he enters the room, he notices the gun in her right hand, which she held behind the door in case she had bad company. The music playlist from last night is still playing, 2+2= by Bob Seger currently on. Zoë adjusts her PJ shorts, the Nirvana shirt hanging from one shoulder and her wavy hair a bird’s nest; she looks like she’s experiencing the worst hangover ever.      “Are you alright?” Sam checks, carefully.      “Yeah, just a bad night,” she mutters.      “You were fine when I left,” he recalls, surprised by her state.      She doesn’t respond and drags her feet to the bathroom. Sam hears the water falling down in the sink. She’s probably attempting to freshen up a little.      “I left my phone here somewhere,” Sam informs, before Zoë asks about his visit.      No answer, not even a smart comment. Somewhat worried, Sam peeks around the corner. Zoë is leaning on the sink with one hand, pressuring her other palm against her forehead. She has her eyes firmly shut, every muscle in her body tenses; she’s in pain.      “You’re not alright,” Sam notices and walks in to support her, but she shrugs him off.      “It’s nothing, just leave me alone,” the huntress snaps.

     Without granting Sam another second of her attention, Zoë saunters into the room and turns down the music, annoyed by the sound of the guitar that only amplifies the throbbing inside her skull. Instead, she switches on the TV while rubbing her face, steadying herself against the back of the sofa. 

     As Sam observes her, the gears in his head start to turn. She seems ill, feverish almost, as if she’s fighting off an infection. Something about her conditions is familiar. Unable to catch a breath, clammy skin, dizziness. The feeling of being run over by a sixteen wheeler, a bass drum pounding through one’s head, as if they were inches from an amplifier at a concert all night long. Then it clicks. 

     “You had a vision.”

     Startled, Zoë looks aside. Shit. How the hell did he pick up on that? Surely she’s a mess, but Sam must have the exact same symptoms in order for him to figure it out this fast. She cannot let him know, though, and so she recovers quickly.      “No, I didn’t. It's migraines.” She shrugs it off and looks back at the television.      Sam keeps reading her while the local TV station brings them the latest news. She tries to concentrate on the screen, but feels Sam’s burning eyes. Then she snaps at him.      “Stop trying to find things that aren’t there, Sam.”      “You’re lying.” Sam knows.      She sighs with an eye roll and turns up the volume.      “No, I’m not. Now drop it.”      “I’m not gonna drop it.” He steps between her and the TV, blocking her view. “You were dying to know about my visions from the moment you learned I have them.”      “I’m watching that,” she voices, annoyed with his intrusion.      “And I’m talking to you,” Sam returns with an attitude.

     She gives him a look that could kill and steps around him to have a clear view of the screen again, trying her best to ignore the hunter and not blow up on the guy. He better not push her, because he has no idea what would be coming for him.      “Headaches, black spots, nausea right after you wake up,” Sam sums up. “You have them.”      “Would you shut the fuck up for one second?!” Zoë hushes him violently.

     It’s just now that the news on the TV catches Sam’s attention. She’s not just agitated with him because she doesn’t want to talk about the paranormal powers they have in common; there’s actually something on the local news that’s worth their attention.

“In Paragould, the body of a man has been discovered. This morning, Bill Van Dyke was found deceased in his own home, and the Paragould Police Department are considering his death to be suspicious. Local authorities claim that the family were home during the time of death.”

     “Shit,” Zoë spats.      “What is it?” Sam glances aside.      She sighs, still watching the screen as another reporter at the scene gives more information about the incident. “He died the same way Robert Shire did.”      “The girl’s father?” Sam checks, remembering the surname of ‘Shire’ engraved on Laura’s tombstone.      Zoë nods in confirmation as the reporter in the studio takes over again.

“Bill Van Dyke, the principal of Woodrow Wilson Elementary in Paragould, was a pillar of  support to the local community--”

     Zoë doesn’t hear the rest of the report, the sound fading out as her gaze locks on the school building, which is shown on the screen. She recognizes that building.      “It’s her,” she knows.      “That can’t be. You salted and burned her bones,” Sam brings to mind.      “I’m aware of that, Sam. I dug her up myself,” she hisses, as she opens her closet and takes out her suit, her actions hasty and on the edge of aggressive. “Something is keeping her here, an object maybe. Fuck!”      “Guess you’re staying in town a bit longer than expected,” he concludes.      “Guess so, but I don’t have time for this shit.” Zoë mutters and takes off her shirt, putting on a white blouse as if she’s alone in the room.      Sam averts his eyes, awkwardly, but the huntress isn't bothered.      “Nothing you haven't seen, Sam,” she comments, perky.      Nevertheless he turns away from her, uneasily staring out the window. For a second he considers offering their help on this job, but he’s quite sure she will reject anyway. Besides, they have their own case to deal with.

     Rushing, Zoë gets into her dress pants, which she just pulled out of dry cleaner plastic a moment ago.      “How can you be so sure it’s Laura?” Sam wonders.      “Laura was a 4th grader at Woodrow Wilson Elementary” she explains.      He shrugs. “So? What did Van Dyke ever do to her?”      “Her gym teacher knew about the abuse. My guess is that the principal knew too and didn’t do anything,” Zoë presumes, pulling a thin leather belt through the loops.      “How do you even know that her teacher was aware? You couldn’t have seen her already, not in his short amount of time. Admit it; you see things,” Sam’s pushes.

     Zoë huffs, half shaking her head and well aware that Sam will not buy the bullshit. She wasn't planning on telling him, but the younger Winchester brother might be the one person she can trust when it comes to her abilities. He’s special, just like she is, and neither of them have a clue what is going on. He’s in the dark, just like her. Telling him would involve certain risks, though. Afterall, he is a hunter, one who she just met.      “Zo, start talking,” Sam coerces.      “Alright! I see things! There, I said it. Happy now?” she cries out.

     The confession is as much as a surprise to Sam as it is to Zoë; did she just say that out loud? Shocked, Sam stares at her, but he’s not sure if he’s so stunned by the information of the statement itself or because of the fact that Zoë just told him the truth. Disoriented, his eyes wander off as it slowly starts to sink in what this means; he’s not alone.

     “You have visions, just like me?” he recaps.      “Not entirely,” Zoë says as she buttons her jacket. “You dream about the future, I dream about the past.”      “Like flashbacks?” Sam questions.      “Something like that, yeah. But there’s no possible way I could know these things, you know? Most of the time I don’t even know the people who are involved,” she explains, frustration evident in her voice.      “Tell me ‘bout it,” Sam replies with a chuckle.

     A glint of a smile pulls at Zoë’s lips as she looks up. A feeling she hasn’t experienced in quite a while comes to her. Relief, recognition, as if a weight just fell off her shoulders now that she finally told someone about the secret she has been carrying around for so long. She wishes she could just get it all out of her system, tell him about the other issues that she’s involved in, but she can’t. Besides, there’s little time and still a lot to do. 

     Zoë slips into her pumps, takes her FBI identification out of her duffel and puts it in her inside pocket.      “That’s how you pick your cases, isn’t it?” Sam now understands how Zoë can get to a scene with not much visual evidence, at least not visible to outsiders.      “First I didn’t, because I didn’t understand what was happening to me. But then I thought: Hey, I’m having these flashbacks for a reason, I might as well check it out,” she elaborates before she steps into the bathroom and starts applying makeup.      Sam nods at that, agreeing. “Good point.” Maybe he should start seeing the dreams as clues, too. If he had listened to the visions in the first place, Jessica might still be alive right now. 

     He watches how the woman of many faces basically shapeshifts, going from the groggy, hungover girl in PJ’s to an autorical, tough as nails federal agent. Zoë ties her hair back into a tight ponytail, the look really sending the message that she will take absolutely no bullshit. But under that facade, the role she takes on and hides behind, Sam sees something else; she is nervous, restless, anxious even.      “What’s going on, Zo?” Sam confronts her, his tone supportive, however.

     For a moment she stops fixing her hair and places her hands on her hips. The huntress takes a breath as she searches for words, deciding what she can tell him without giving him too much information.      “I’m on a bit of a time schedule,” she admits. “I need to finish this case before tonight.”      Sam narrows his eyes, concerned, trying to read her. “What kind of time schedule?”      “It’s personal,” she cuts off, immediately.

     Her eyes bore into his, warning him not to ask another question. It’s clear as day that she is not going to give him an inch on this. Intimidated by her gaze, he decides not to dig further.      “What happens if you can’t put her spirit to rest in time?”      “I’ll make it,” Zoë responds, sure of herself.      “You don't know that,” he argues.      “I’ll have to leave town, case closed or not,” she adds simply, walking around the bed to pick up her phone from her nightstand.      “What?! You’re just gonna give up a case?” Sam disapproves.      “I’ve seen hunters do it before,” she says with a tone, straightening her back and standing a little taller.      “So? Then they suck!” Sam exclaims.      Zoë snorts, not disagreeing with him there, but the young Winchester isn’t finished yet.      “Laura will keep haunting this town and every one who might have the slightest connection to her death. Do you have any idea how many could end up dead?” Sam tries to make her see.      “I don’t. Have. A choice,” she states, pronouncing her words slowly and loud, as if Sam suffers hearing loss.      “You do,” Sam corrects. “You always have a choice.”      “You should have a poster made with those words, Gandhi,” Zoë responds sassy. 

     She has gathered her keys and her motorcycle helmet now, ready to head out. Sam doesn’t seize his plea, though.      “Let us help you,” he offers.      After halting abruptly, the huntress slowly turns her head and stares at him for a brief moment, then she laughs out loud.

     “No way in hell,” she chuckles, apparently finding the proposition ridiculous.      “Why not?” Sam wants to know.      “Because I don’t team up with others. The moment you depend on someone other than yourself, you’re vulnerable. You start to trust people you shouldn’t trust and when it all goes wrong, people die,”  she states.      “What about covering each other’s backs? Looking out for your partner?” Sam brings up the bright side of cooperation.      “Apparently that isn’t for me, and believe me; I’ve experienced it,” Zoë comments, a speck of pain edging her voice.

     Sam is not sure what the young huntress means by that, but he can read from her eyes that whatever happened, it still hurts her. He keeps quiet for a moment, but then continues with a calm tone.      “Hear me out. We can take over the case completely and you can go wherever you need to go. We’re in the same hunting fields, so why shoot at each other in order to get rid of the competition when we can split up. Dean and I can handle this,” Sam ensures.      “I believe you can, but I’m not the type who lets someone else do the dirty jobs. I got this one, I just need to make good time,” Zoë assures as she heads for the door. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a crime scene to investigate.”

     She holds the door for Sam, her piercing eyes telling him without words to get out of her suite. The younger Winchester lets a sigh slip from his lips as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment. There’s absolutely no way to get through to that woman, he thinks to himself as he walks outside before she locks the door. The sharp thumps of her heels echo through the lobby, when she hastily parades to the parking lot while taking out her shades. Just before she walks out, Sam stops her by laying her hand on her shoulder.

     “Zoë…”      She spins around, not keen on the physical contact.      “If you need help, call me,” he insists.      “You know I won’t, Sammy,” she reacts, pushing the sunglasses onto her nose.      “Don’t - don’t call me Sammy,” he mumbles under his breath, watching her stride away to her Harley Davidson.      After putting on her helmet, she starts the engine and rides off, not even bothering to say goodbye. 

     Defeated, Sam turns to the Impala, which is parked on one of the taxi spots. A thin layer of dust covers the black car, which seems to boil in the early morning sun. It’s awfully quiet. No ear blasting rock tunes from the radio, no Dean jamming on his air guitar. Sam peeks through the window of the passenger’s side and finds his brother fast asleep. He can’t see Dean’s eyes because of the sunglasses he’s wearing to cut out the light his hungover brain cannot tolerate, but his head rests half against the window, tilted slightly backwards. Sam’s thoughts go back to the day before yesterday, when they parked the car in front of the pharmacy and Dean scared the shit out of him by slamming his fist against the window. Of course, Sam can’t resist doing the same thing and hits the window right on the spot where Dean’s leaning against on the other side.

     “Kelly Clarkson!” Dean cries out spooked, as he bumps his head up against the hardtop of the car.      With a big smirk on his face, Sam walks around the car just as victoriously as his brother did the other day, and settles in the driver's seat. When he sees his brother’s confused expression, he can’t help but laugh.      “Man, that’s so not cool,” Dean mutters with a raspy voice as he rubs his face.

     “Got what I came for.” Sam holds up his Blackberry.      “Did you have to wake me up for that?” Dean takes off his shades and narrows his eyes against the bright sun.      “No, that was just for fun,” Sam grins.      “Bitch,” Dean grumbles.      “Jerk,” Sam returns with a smile. “I have another update by the way.”      “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean wonders, carelessly, resting his head against the cool glass again.      “We’re staying in town for a couple more days,”  Sam informs.

     He got Dean’s attention with that notification, all right. His older brother looks up at him and although he can barely keep his eyes open, Sam can tell that he’s curious for more info.      “What? Werewolf turned out to be a coyote?” Dean assumes.      “Not really, but there’s still a case here,” Sam begins to explain, while taking the car keys from his pocket.      “So? It’s Sullivan’s case, I ain’t touching that with a ten foot pole,” Dean makes clear.      “Aren’t you happy you can hang out with Denise?” Sam persuades, hoping to change his mind.      “Oh, no. I know what you’re doing.” Dean sits up straight and smirks, on to his little brother’s persuasiveness. “You’re trying to make this seem brochure perfect, but this isn’t about Denise. Spill it.”

     Sam sighs. Damn, there goes his master plan. Although he gets the impression that Dean can't stand the female hunter, Sam decides to tell the truth.      “I think Zoë needs help,” he admits.      “The last time you thought that I ended up in a bridal suite with a shapeshifter and you got dumped in a septic tank with our damsel in distress,” Dean recalls. “Did she ask for your help?”      “No, not re--”      “- Did she accept your offer?” Dean asks again.      “No, but --”      “- Then we ain’t helping her,” Dean decides.

     “Come on, Dean. We can’t leave her like that,” Sam tries.      “She’s a big girl, Sam. And a damn good hunter too. She’ll be fine,” Dean assures.      “I don’t know, man. Something doesn’t seem right,” Sam ponders. “She told me she’s on some sort of time schedule or something.”      “Yeah, her period. Guessing it’s coming up to that time of the month,” Dean grumbles, sarcastically.      He has lost interest in the conversation and crosses his arms in front of his chest, tugging deeper into the seat.

     “She’s gonna leave town tonight, case closed or not,” Sam clarifies.      Dean opens his eyes and looks aside. “You really think she would leave a job unfinished?” Dean wonders.      Sam shrugs. “Apparently.”      “That deadline must be pretty damn important,” the oldest brother concludes. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt if we stay until tonight, see if she manages to wrap up the case in time. But after that, we’re off to Texas. I was looking forward to that wolf hunt.”

     Satisfied with that compromise, Sam starts the engine. Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Looking Out My Back Door sounds from the radio of the classic car, built around the same time that this song was hitting the charts.      By the time the Chevrolet leaves the parking lot, Dean has looked up Denise’s number and is on the phone with her. Fuck the appropriate time to wait until reaching out. This is a booty call; the regular rules of dating don’t apply.

     “Hey… No, you didn’t forget anything. I just couldn’t wait to call you…. Yeah, I’d love to get together again. I’ll probably have to leave town in a few days, so… tonight? Alright, sounds great.” Dean gives Sam an exaggerated wink.      “At her place,” Sam half mouths, half whispers, making sure Denise doesn’t pick up on his words.      “One sec, sweetheart.” Dean presses his hand on the microphone and looks aside. “Having plans for tonight, Romeo?”      Sam glares at him and Dean returns his attention back to Denise, who started talking to him again.      “Your place, you say? At eight? Cool, I’ll see you tonight then… looking forward to it, too… Alright, bye.” They both hang up and Dean smirks satisfied.      “You are unbelievable, you know that?” Sam comments while shaking his head.      "Oh, I'm unbelievably irresistible,” his brother replies, victoriously.

     Just as Sam decides to turn right, a weird soft roar sounds from inside the car.      “What the hell was that?” Sam looks around.      “My GPS is telling you to make a left,” Dean explains.      The youngest of the two looks aside at his brother who’s pressing his hand on his hungry stomach. Now Sam looks over to the left and spots the yellow zigzag arrow above an In-N-Out restaurant. He laughs, he should have known.      “I see,” he grins and makes the turn. “Drive thru?”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page). 

Read chapter seven here  

[punkscowardschampions]

Dash & Lux

Dash: ☀️🧙🏽‍♀️🎶🥁🎸🪕🧚🏿‍♂️🌿🌼🧚🔮💃💫🔥🕺🏻🌳💗🍯🍻

Lux: That is almost exactly what the inside of my head looks like right now!!!

Lux: Is mind-reading a power that is bestowed upon you believers this eve?! 🤔😲

Dash: Right on

Dash: it’s one of many, trust

Lux: I’m ever sadder I can only be an observer now

Lux: Telepathy would be the most useful!

Dash: you gotta open your 👀 at least twice

Lux: I can 👀 at it, all of it in its splendour, just not participate

Dash: Bummer! What’s got you backing off? You don’t look like no wallflower chick to me

Lux: I got the dress code 🌻🌻🌻

Lux: Sunflowers are so strong-looking for flowers, don’t you think?

Lux: Not dainty and delicate

Lux: Well, I’m a Christian and technically this is a Pagan ritual so it’s a big 🚫🚫

Lux: I am finding it super interesting though

Dash: they don’t look strong, they are, babe 🌻🌻🌻 cleaned up Chernobyl, it’s far out what they can do

Dash: its roots, yeah, but we’re not all pagans here & we all still find something to celebrate, you could do St John the Baptist’s birthday as a christian, bonfires were big for that too

Lux: Whaaaaaaaaaat????! TELL ME MORE

Dash: about 🌻🌻🌻 or 🎂🔥🎇🎆?

Lux: 🌻🌻🌻 birthdays are contentious too

Dash: Helianthus annuus, from the Greek helios, meaning ☀️ they can remove poisonous chemicals & metals from the ground, water or air

Dash: they spread rapidly & can stabilize if not totally clear a field in 3 years, it’s 🤯

Lux: I wish I’d gone to school

Lux: Do you know any more fascinating things?

Lux: That sounds like magic

Dash: the world’s full of magic, but it wasn’t school that taught me to recognize it

Lux: Share the secret, kind sir

Dash: you’ve got the 🔑 & this here’s your kingdom, all you have to do is hang out & stay hip to what you 👀👂👃👅

Dash: 🧠➡️⬅️⬆️⬇️↗️↘️↙️↖️↪️↩️⤴️⤵️

Lux: I’ve 👅 so many wondrous tastes today

Lux: I feel full in so many senses of the word

Lux: How long have you been a member of the kingdom, stranger?

Dash: quest accepted to lay that feeling on you in every sense, then it’ll be a rad celebration

Dash: I’ve been here since I could walk, everywhere else is too big a drag to keep me

Lux: Oh, that’s so kind!

Lux: Everyone is so open and willing to teach me things

Lux: For instance, quick, when’s your birthday, wolf boy

Dash: it’s that kinda space 🦊

Dash: 20th of January 🎂 got me on the cusp ♑♒

Lux: Twins!

Lux: My birthday, which I’ve never celebrated before, is the 20th of March 😱

Lux: Someone, I’m not sure who, was just telling me about the Celtic tree signs

Lux: ‘If you were born in the month of the birch, you probably have a fresh and unusual outlook on life. People born under this Celtic tree astrology sign tend to be highly driven and are always full of zeal and ambition. They always want more and try to reach new horizons and expand their knowledge. Some of the characteristics attributed to the Birch sign are tolerance, toughness, and leadership. The Birch signs can brighten a room with their smile and quickly charm other people’

Lux: Yay or nay 🐺

Dash: you charmed so far or nah? [obviously smiling at her wherever she is as well like heyyy]

Lux: [definition of this emoji 🤭]

Dash: What’s your celtic tree sign?

Lux: ‘Those born under the Alder sign are natural pathfinders. They have the ability to move people and quickly gain followers to their cause. The Alders have a way with words, mingle easily and people love to be around them. They possess a mystic charisma, confidence and strong self-faith. Other character traits are: a good focus on goals and ideas, can’t tolerate fluff and waste.’

Lux: I am unsure but flattered 😊😊😊

Dash: I dig it

Dash: they let you know if we’re compatible? Your ♓♈ cusp makes you mad desirable to all signs

Lux: You need to see who here was born 15th April to 12th May or 2nd September to 29th September

Lux: But it says I’m compatible with you, so how does that work?! 😣

Lux: There’s so much I have to get my head ‘round

Dash: You’re gonna be 🥰💖 for me while I’m 🔍 for a 🐈 or 🐤 born on those dates?

Lux: Hey, that’s way less nice!

Lux: but I can also be looking for people born 13th May to 9th June AND 10th June to 7th July so 😋

Dash: those signs are full of it, trying to make me look uncool but don’t sweat it, I’d never cut you that low, like

Lux: If it’s not in the 💫s I can still say I’m pleased to meet you today as friends, Mowgli

Dash: Look up

Dash: if you don’t see a 🌠 I can show you a 🐺🌟 & 🦊🌟 chasing each other across the sky

Lux: [obviously literally does]

Lux: That’s very Disney 🏰✨

Dash: is that allowed?

Lux: I watched some at a friend’s house one time

Dash: & how was it?

Lux: 😭 but romantic

Dash: Anyone told you the oak king story yet?

Lux: Okay, thank Goodness

Lux: this lady with the dreads and the big back tattoo tried to tell me but I couldn’t understand her 🙊

Lux: Redeem your gentlemanly reputation and save both of us the embarrassment

Lux: Her accent was wild! 🤯

Dash: did her version start with Fadó, fadó?

Dash: wouldn’t be a wild guess

Lux: I won’t credit you with any telepathic skills this time, then

Lux: also I’d need to 👂 it again to confirm fully but yes, I think so

Dash: [send her an utterly unnecessary voice memo]

Lux: It sounds more intriguing when you say it

Dash: [obviously gotta tell her the full story in an irish voice memo purely for the #flex and the flirt cos you know damn well you’re gonna have to translate it, boy]

Lux: 🤩

Lux: Did you learn that here too?

Lux: I’ve lived so many different places and yet I only know the one language

Dash: My ma started it but when the establishment took over it was a bad scene & turned me off for time, last few years here it felt groovy again having that connection & I refound the 💚☘️

Lux: It’s really cool

Lux: it sounds old, or like elvish or something else not real

Dash: it’s a trip, you’ve gotta get someone to teach you while your fly by lasts

Lux: Oh, I live here 😊

Lux: I room with Nora, do you know her?

Dash: Beats me, what’s her deal?

Lux: Her and her brother Finley have been here for a while, but not forever like you

Lux: but there are a lot of people here so I’m not surprised you’re not sure 😅

Dash: not a clue but loads of people are too rattled to wanna get involved, could be her vibe

Dash: or she just ain’t outta sight like you

Lux: She’s totally involved, she secured like all of the sunflowers for today

Lux: well, me and Amber helped but she was definitely the most enthusiastic

Dash: 🌻👑! I do know her, but her in with Amber & instant karma means she’s not gonna mess around with me

Lux: Ooh, what did you do

Dash: jack, Amber’s hassling me cos I’m not trying to be her old man, she gets super rash & things get heavy with 0 slack

Lux: Hmm I shouldn’t have asked 🤐🙉

Dash: ask her why she’s making a move on my older bro now if not to try & lay a trip on me, babe’s lost it

Lux: Whaaaaaaa

Lux: You have a brother?!

Lux: Is he invisible?

Dash: I wish

Lux: Which one is he, point him out

Dash: [points in the direction of their house lol]

Lux: [a face of understanding like oh okay]

Lux: How does Amber know him then?

Dash: from stalking me

Lux: I don’t think she would do that

Lux: She must’ve just bumped into him or something

Dash: at my house, yeah

Lux: It’s cool, it’s not really my business

Dash: open 👀 like I said

Lux: 📖

Dash: that too 🧠💗🤲

Lux: I can agree with that sentiment

Dash: we’re groovy then

Lux: Of course 😊

Lux: enjoy your evening

Dash: back at you, golden girl ☀️🎇👸🏼

Lux: I like your outfit too

Lux: it’s very ☀️🧙🏽‍♀️🎶🥁🎸🪕🧚🏿‍♂️🌿🌼🧚🔮💃💫🔥🕺🏻🌳💗🍯🍻

Dash: [comes over and ties a chain of flowers around her wrist like it’s a friendship bracelet energy]

Lux: [clearly delighted with this]

Dash: [ask her if she wants to dance even though you know damn well she’s only observing because kind of boy you are]

Lux: [so rude lowkey when she’s struggling so hard with what she does and doesn’t believe now, we’re in enough of a dilemma without your help but there we go; thus we will go dance with you because we do want to and we can make arguments that that isn’t joining in with the rituals of it all]

Dash: [he’s lucky Amber is busy because she would fight him, but instead enjoy your dance you two]

Lux: [the audacity of your lies about her, we were so awkward like 😬 anyway, we will have a nice dance though]

Dash: [such a dickhead he can only be humbled by fire, full offense Nora because we’re ignoring you hen cos you’re clearly wise to his bs]

Lux: [there’s clearly a growing group of gals who are unimpressed by your nonsense and that will be interesting to navigate]

Dash: [Definitely, but yeah probably do slip away like a snek before any of those gals do kick your ass]

Lux: 🎃👠🐁🌠🕛

Dash: A 📘 for the 🔥

Lux: 🤔?

Dash: it’s a drag, all that heavy shit with her fam is a bummer, she gets to split but only til 🕛 that’s some 🌠

Lux: Yeah, it’s enough to get help though and then she gets saved

Dash: nah, to get shafted, she don’t get to dance with anyone else there, it’s a scam

Lux: 😅 who else does she need, she’s got the prince, silly!

Dash: someone who recognizes her next day?

Lux: Touche 😏

Lux: Being a 🤴 is a lot of work

Dash: What 🤴 told you that?

Lux: Where to begin

Lux: I’ve known several who would say as much and the 👸s would never disagree

Dash: Fadó, fadó, fadó a bhí ann…

Dash: but I’d shut it down from the beginning, they gotta be shining you on

Lux: I’m going to have to have translate open constantly, I see 😰

Lux: but very noble

Dash: I try, like you & your ☘️ it’s chill we’ve all got your back

Lux: It would be way worse if it was the only language any of you spoke

Lux: thank goodness 😅

Lux: there’s lots more that’s more pertinent for me to get a grip on

Dash: 🧝🧝🏻‍♀️🧝🏽🧝🏾‍♀️

Dash: we’ve got you on the rest too, like, goes without saying

Lux: Most everyone has been super welcoming

Dash: how long have you lived here?

Lux: Not long enough that that’s insulting 😋

Lux: but gosh, a couple of weeks? Must be

Dash: nah I meant cos I don't wanna explain to you what sorta place this is like you're fresh through the door if you've had loads of time to find your own way

Lux: Oh no, I’m a total n00b

Lux: Hazel got me here but I’ve kinda just been left to it since

Lux: Anything you wanna tell me would be appreciated

Dash: did Amber or Nora give you the tour?

Lux: Amber’s been super busy and Nora likes to stay in our room mostly

Dash: not super welcoming

Dash: but it’s no sweat, I’ll show you round, we’ll have a blast

Lux: they’ve both got their own stuff going on, I don’t expect them to drop it for me

Lux: but that would still be cool, thank you!

Dash: say when

Dash: it’ll be as electric under the ☀️ as the 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌙

Lux: I can 👀 in the dark

Lux: You choose

Lux: find me when you’ve stopped having the MOST fun?

Dash: 🐺🐾🦊

Dash: Meet me in the orchard at midnight, ditching your shoes before

Dash: there’s an 🍏🌳🍎 you can 👀 the whole farm from the top of

Lux: And you’ll remember what I look like?

Dash: you look unreal

Dash: unforgettable

Lux: I got creative with the arts and crafts 🌟⚡️☀️

Lux: I’ve always made my own clothes

Lux: well, I made them for my sisters before

Lux: looking unforgettable was not the end goal there though

Lux: that was for secret

Dash: my nan would be hip to you, she used to make her own clothes, for her girl & her sister too when they wanted, it’s still a vibe for her

Lux: I will make her something then

Lux: what’s her style?

Dash: indescribable

Dash: I’ll show you pics

Lux: Awkward if your nan is cuter than you

Dash: at our age she totally was

Lux: Awh, you’re so sweet

Lux: I have nothing nice to say about my meemaw

Dash: keep it for mine when you meet her

Lux: You’re gonna introduce me to your nan? 😊

Dash: right on, she’ll wanna put whatever you make on for you to 👀 & it’s only a few fields over

Lux: 🏞 it’s a crazy beautiful spot to live, that’s for sure

Lux: so you live with her?

Dash: Yeah, my ma grew up there & when my parents called it quits she wanted to move back

Lux: You’re close-knit

Lux: that’s special

Dash: closer than I am to my da

Lux: Does that upset you?

Dash: I don’t let it upset my equilibrium, he’s uptight, that’s his problem not mine

Lux: I understand

Lux: I don’t agree with my dad on a lot of things

Lux: it’s still sad though

Dash: I got killer people round me, a 2nd family here accepting me for who I am, it ain’t cool he don’t, but they give me what I need

Lux: I’m happy for you

Lux: Seriously

Lux: again, that’s special, you should be really grateful

Dash: I am, believe me

Dash: you’re gonna scope out how special it is here now I’m in charge of showing you everything

Lux: I’d love to see your 🌍 how you see it

Lux: Kinda sounds like everything I need, honestly

Dash: you can, easily when we’re sharing a branch

Lux: 🧚‍♀️ you’re dainty, I trust you won’t let me fall

Dash: I’ll let you fall into something good though, new heights

Lux: Will it hurt?

Dash: no way

Lux: You aren’t pranking me, are you?

Dash: there’s no plastic on me, I’m being real with you

Lux: If you’re gonna try and jump me out in the orchard I’ll have to show you crazy and I really can’t afford to lose this place okay

Lux: so if I believe you right now and you were lying, it’ll be worse than it would’ve been, you feel me?

Dash: Hurting you isn’t my action, I’m about a gentler touch than that

Lux: and I’m not a bully, that’s not my vibe so that’s the warning out of the way

Dash: avenging 👼 I get it

Lux: My costume has you fooled, I think

Dash: Wait, so you’re pranking me?

Lux: No, I swear! 😅

Lux: I don’t feel like I’ve been anywhere near as nice to you as you have to me though

Dash: but you did dance with me & that was choice

Lux: I wanted to

Dash: me too, I wasn’t asking just to be nice

Lux: even though you’re very nice

Lux: I believe that

Dash: I think we’re getting somewhere

Lux: You understand why I’d find a boy like you being interested in me dubious at first, right

Dash: Nah, but I’m listening

Lux: Well it’s embarrassing to say

Dash: alright, listen, I think you’re the most

Dash: I’m embarrassed I’ve not met you before tonight

Lux: There are so many people to meet

Lux: and you’re like the 🤴 of this place, huh

Lux: you have to dance with all the ugly stepsisters too

Dash: if Amber said write that to bait me I’m shutting up

Lux: I think Amber left 🤔

Lux: And who’s calling her ugly, even if you guys have beef, like no way

Dash: & Nora’s gotta be back in your room cos that’s her bag, yeah?

Dash: so where are you?

Lux: I’m in the middle of [one hippie activity] and [another]

Dash: [go find her and dance with her again obvs, we can be bolder about if some of the haters are gone and it’s later so he’s clearly a bit more drunk/high by now too]

Lux: [the way you’re probably sober like how lmao, not saying you always are or will be ‘cos no but gotta have our wits about us ‘cos witchery is afoot; but yeah we all know it can shamelessly way more of a Thing™]

Dash: [at least Amber was too until her row with the bae even if she wasn’t the most present in other ways, so it wasn’t just you gal, but yeah, dispel any remaining fears she may have that you’re not into this please boy with this moment]

Lux: [we know you got your own going on, it’s good, this drama has to happen whether you like it or not babe sorryyyy, when you’re then even more into it because it’s like HELLO IS THIS ALLOWED, so new and fresh to get to remotely be this brazen]

Dash: [shouldn’t LOVE that for you but I do, we should probably let y’all go on your tour then because we’re both in a mood and there’s nobody to separate you]

Lux: [probably, but I will insist on making you wait ‘til midnight regardless]

Dash: [it is a fat mood and I did pick that time deliberately so yeah, dance the night away first hens]

Lux: [sure it’s probably near that time anyways]

Dash: [yeah absolutely]

Lux: [we can skip to the after in this if you like?]

Dash: [are we thinking am like did y’all fall asleep together or?]

Lux: [Hmm, do we go with the Cinderella and have her bounce or do we go against it and not, because then she would think he wasn’t a dick later]

Dash: [even though he’s a dick I still want all the cute I can grab with my smol hands]

Lux: [it’s not like you can’t be like I just fell asleep it’s nbd with it so yeah okay

Dash: [I also like the camber parallel of it all so]

Lux: [true true, we can do it, then you can just have breakfast as a group because duh, was it sunday or monday today?]

Dash: [I think it’s sunday aka Cosmo is having his 2nd date with Ruby tonight and then Camber breakfast dates start monday]

Lux: [okay then you will have to think of a creative way to ditch her then boy hohaha]

Dash: [at least he can just go home because Amber only stayed to angrily eat some fruit and Cosmo had a busy day ahead because I doubt the shower situation at this commune is thriving, water probably runs out always]

Lux: [what a poser lmaooo]

Dash: [and very rude not to invite her when she probably wants to shower or bathe too]

Lux: [we literally got gems stuck to our face but pop off]

Dash: [we know you’re not because your mother is there and sick of your behaviour but yes, it wouldn’t kill you to let her boy]

Lux: [no offence but run him over, anyway, some time later]

Lux: are you ⬇️🍄?

Dash: 🛹⚡️

Lux: aha, cool

Lux: good thing you didn’t invite me I’d end up 🤕 for sure

Dash: I didn’t stop you falling out of a tree last night to have you fall off a board later in the AM

Lux: Hey, you make it sound like I was 🤏 close! 😆

Dash: nah, your balance is sound

Lux: I don’t recall you stepping on my toes, either

Dash: don’t wanna have to start the day off doubting your 🍒 recall, that’d be a bad scene

Lux: I was totally sober thank you 😅

Dash: easy to claim the magic’s all you when I ain’t met you before but I’m a believer

Lux: Wait, was that a compliment or a diss?

Lux: Maybe I’m contact-wasted

Dash: contact with Nora would get you more sober, there’s a diss

Lux: Awh, don’t be mean!

Lux: She’s been really nice

Dash: chill out, I’m only playing

Lux: Hmm 😏

Lux: anyway, what are you doing later?

Dash: I said I’d hang with Yara

Lux: Oh cool, who’s that?

Dash: I’ll introduce you after

Lux: after what?

Dash: we’re done messing around

Lux: wow, alrighty then

Dash: you’ll like her, she’s a trip

Lux: I’m not totally sure she’d want you to 💬 that

Lux: or I’ll know what to 💬 now

Dash: it’s no biggie

Lux: idk, this is not the way I was raised

Lux: you say it’s not but idk, you know

Dash: you don’t have to meet her

Lux: Yeah

Dash: I think she’s rad but you gotta make up your own mind

Lux: It’s not about her

Dash: nah, you, I understand where you’re coming from, it’s a new world

Lux: Right, it seems really icky to me that you’d tell me any of this

Lux: it’s not about how rad she could be

Dash: Come on, Lux, I’m keeping this honest

Lux: I guess

Lux: Why do you need to tell me though, I don’t get it, for real?

Dash: I like you, I don’t want it to get twisted

Dash: 📖

Lux: Okay, I appreciate the sentiment then

Dash: I’ll come find you later, on my own

Lux: That’s okay

Lux: I’ve got lots of chores to catch up on

Dash: they’ll be done faster if I help you

Lux: I can’t stop you

Lux: the place is a mess after last night and the more people who pitch in the better

Dash: I don’t get why you’d wanna stop me

Lux: I don’t really wanna hang out now, not today anyway

Dash: I can’t believe you’re being like this

Lux: Being like what?

Dash: Amber

Lux: I’m not

Lux: you can’t hang out now, I can’t hang out later, how is it any different?

Dash: the way I’m travelling through today is a straight line, yours is all over the place

Lux: Good for you?

Lux: It doesn’t matter either way though

Dash: doing a u turn on me does matter

Lux: It does?

Lux: because last night you thought I was rad, so obviously this morning I wanted to hang out with you again, so I think it’s my turn to do the 180, if you think about it

Dash: I still think you are, last night was unreal & we can be again, I’m just asking you to take 5 cos I can’t split on Yara after making plans time ago

Lux: That’s fine, it’s not fine to be mad at me ‘cos I ask you to take 5 too

Lux: that makes it make no sense

Dash: I’m not mad at you, I’m trying to make sense of why you’re mad at me

Lux: I’m not mad at you, I’m upset

Lux: You only need to ask

Dash: idk I didn’t think this would go down how it is

Lux: Me either, I guess

Dash: you for real want space?

Lux: I don’t know

Lux: Can I get back to you on that?

Dash: yeah

Lux: I wanted to see you again

Lux: I thought you’d want to see me too

Dash: I do, you read me right last night, why are you gonna start disbelieving yourself today?

Lux: You want to see Yara more

Dash: I wanna see her too

Lux: Okay, have fun then

Dash: we cool?

Lux: I don’t know

Dash: idk what's turned you different, you were laying it on me like you got it, how I'm

like royalty & everyone wants a piece of my time

Lux: Oh my Gosh

Lux: I wasn’t being serious and I didn’t think you were

Lux: do you honestly think that, like what?

Dash: It's a touch plastic saying I'm like 👑 but still close to how it is

Lux: Um, you don’t even live here

Lux: you have a whole house and family

Dash: I'm here with my chosen family as much as I can be

Lux: Yeah, but what do you

actually do for this place, or anyone here?

Lux: The audacity to act like it’s your kingdom, that’s laughable and gross all at once

Dash: back off babe, I do whatever they need me to do

Lux: Babe-ing me right now isn’t a good look

Lux: manual labour at best makes you help, not visiting royalty

Lux: are you crazy, like, who do you think you are, seriously I’m so curious

Dash: Who are you? Thinking you can lay this trip on me about what I can & can't do

Lux: I’m not telling you you can or can’t do anything

Lux: I asked you not to call me babe, which is basic politeness

Dash: nah, you're telling me I don't belong to this place

Dash: questioning how I do like

it's up to you

Lux: I said you don’t live here, and you don’t

Lux: and I’ve never seen you contribute, maybe you were super busy before I got here, then I’ll apologize for that

Dash: you're doing a census, yeah? Hold up [everyone currently who doesn't live her like the petty prince he is]

Dash: I've got family here, they all keep me busy

Lux: Cool? Thanks for telling me who else is a tourist ???

Lux: You’re just being defensive, there’s no need if you’re secure in that and your place here

Dash: quit trying to rattle me

Lux: I’m truly not

Lux: but no, we’re not cool now

Dash: I made it known from the top where I live

Lux: Where you live isn’t the issue

Dash: what's your issue? I'm loved & welcomed here, that's all I said

Lux: That’s nice

Lux: I don’t really want to discuss my issue with you, with you, right now, if that’s okay

Dash: later then

Lux: See you around, Dash

Dash: I can't believe you think I'm a flake, this has me totally unglued, you know

Lux: I don’t feel great about it either

Dash: how can I make you feel less bummed out?

Dash: your tour was the most far out I've ever given

Lux: I don’t think you can, it’s done now

Lux: I just need some time to change what I thought this was, or was gonna be, in my head

Lux: but thanks, for offering

Dash: take your time to 👀 what we can be & how you wanna evolve

Lux: Maybe we can be friends later on

Dash: I’d dig it

Lux: I liked talking to you last night

Dash: I felt more connected to you than I usually do

Lux: I don’t think you’re an awful person, FYI

Lux: I just think you could’ve been clearer, and accept that you hurt me without getting way defensive, you know?

Lux: I can accept you didn’t mean to

Dash: I thought I was being clear

Lux: Yeah, I know

Lux: I’m from a very different background and place, it just didn’t translate well, clearly

Dash: yeah

Lux: but I thought I’d put that across well enough that you got that too

Dash: I do get you, but I can’t 180 myself to fit

Lux: No, I’m not asking you to fit my understanding, it’s fine you don’t

Dash: What are you asking?

Lux: Nothing, honestly, I’m trying to explain why I’m upset

Lux: Just like you can’t 180, I can’t change how I see and feel about it immediately, even if some of the ways I were raised are outdated or potentially bad, you know

Lux: You don’t need to do anything

Lux: From my perspective, it felt like a 180 and hurtful to tell me about hooking up with someone else the morning after

Lux: I know how you think and operate is totally different, but that’s it

Dash: but I wanna do something, to help you

Lux: You are nice…

Lux: I don’t know though, what would help?

Dash: I meant what I said last night about showing you this place, making it feel more like a home, how it is for me

Lux: Maybe you could come back and help with the chores

Lux: I shouldn’t have said you NEVER help out, I’ve not been here long enough to make that observation

Dash: maybe it looks like I don’t, cos with family you take liberties sometimes, that kid who’s naughty at home & don’t say shit at school, comfortable to play up

Lux: I have 8 brothers, I understand 😅

Dash: you can have that too, should

Lux: I did, as much as any of us did

Lux: I was a boy, remember

Dash: with 0 limits though, people trying to control & change what you do is for outside of here, I don’t have to think in my dad’s 🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟪⬛️⬜️🟫 way or do what my ma reckons is righteous

Lux: Sounds idyllic, Dash

Dash: it is

Lux: You have to understand my experience of people doing exactly what they want means someone is being exploited or abused for that person’s privilege

Lux: my parents had their utopia at the price of the things we wanted, needed

Dash: that’s why you need this new experience

Lux: Okay

Lux: I do want new experiences

Dash: the farm has the magic to grant you whatever you’re here for, no wish is the wrong size

Lux: You really seem to believe it so I will try too 😊

Dash: I’m about to 🛹⚡️ back if you wanna clean the opposite end or hide from me in the 🍏🌳🍎

Lux: That’s cool

Lux: but thanks for the warning 💗

Dash: don’t let how out of this world you look distract me then

Lux: I so don’t so that won’t be an issue 😌

Dash: It's an accident, huh? I feel you, it must be my fault I can’t look away

Lux: You’re way too smooth for your own good

Lux: but I wouldn’t say that’s a fault, necessarily 🤭

Dash: Hey, I didn’t manifest you into being, even if last night did feel like it had to be cosmically devined somehow

Lux: I felt it too

Lux: no one has ever

Lux: not like that anyway

Dash: you’re like a song I can’t get out of my head, I don’t want it to turn sad

Dash: I’m sorry I got you unglued too

Lux: It’s a lot more complicated than just you

Lux: it’s a whole thing

Dash: You’re gonna find people to share how heavy it is

Lux: 🤞

Dash: they’ll carry you through & even if it’s Amber I won’t let it bug me

Lux: I’m sure that’s a misunderstanding

Lux: I could talk to her? Subtly, of course

Dash: yeah, her misunderstanding me, you’ve got your reasons, she’s not new to any of this

Dash: her problem is she thinks she’s the most & everyone else should think she’s choice no matter what

Lux: Do you think she likes your brother?

Dash: no way, unless she’s got a football obsession now too

Lux: 🧲 maybe

Dash: idk

Lux: Me either

Lux: it just seems a bit crazy otherwise

Dash: he’s as uptight as my da, she’s never gonna get nowhere trying to mess around with him, whatever she’s doing it for

Lux: She won’t have any problem finding someone new

Lux: you said he’s older, right?

Dash: not loads, but he’s gonna be done with school in a sec

Lux: I see

Lux: so you’re the 👶

Dash: til my dad’s new lady puts her demands in

Dash: how many sisters you got to go with your 8 bros?

Lux: you don’t like her at all, huh

Lux: and 5, so they had a tough job being outnumbered

Dash: you heard of a WAG? That’s her whole deal

Dash: whoa, so you had a full time secret sewing job

Lux: yes, we lived in England for a while, that’s how I ended up here

Lux: like a Kardashian, I can see you not having a lot to bond over

Lux: exactly 😂

Dash: you gotta teach me, my nan would be jazzed

Lux: I’d love to!

Lux: there’s a surplus of old clothes to practice on

Dash: still a chore, we get to skip cleaning, yeah?

Lux: Mending isn’t as fun as creating but you’ve got to start somewhere so, I think so 😊

Dash: 😁

Dash: we’ll have a blast cos I gotta start somewhere on earning your forgiveness too

Lux: You’re sweet, Dash

Dash: I’m being for real

Lux: I know you are

Lux: I don’t know what to say though because I’m awkward 😳

Dash: it’s a hands on kinda task & you already know what you’re doing with it, it’ll be me feeling 😳

Lux: No flirting, only crafting

Dash: 🧷📏🧵✂️🧶📍✨

Lux: That’s a very impressive emoji selection

Dash: missing 😍💞🥰💓😘💘 but it’s chill

Lux: Idiot 😏

Dash: 💟 is the compromise

Lux: Okay, that’s adorable

Lux: allowed 🤭

Dash: [show up and take her hand to lead her off to sew, we know you weren’t far away bitch]

Lux: [the way you just melt when he shows, oh gal]

Dash: [I’m upset about it]

Lux: [we know you really like him, for better and worse rn]

Dash: [thank god he does actually like you and it’s not a straight up Drew and Ro situation happening]

Lux: [we can only do that ‘cos they both lowkey suck so we aren’t sad lmao]

Dash: [I like this gal too much to be that evil]

Lux: [it’s drama enough without it being entirely one-sided like no lol]

Dash: [I hope some sewing does take place amidst the blatant flirting because learn a useful skill for once in your life dickhead]

Lux: [we aren’t gonna just roll over immediately ‘cos actually did upset us so you will have to]

Dash: [yay]

Lux: [so that’s probably the vibe for today ‘cos yeah we absolutely won’t even though it’s clear we still like you like that too, so you’ll just have to hang out platonically]

Dash: [it’s gotta be the vibe for a while, sucks to suck boy, but obviously hang out until that girl comes to find you because you clearly do also wanna hang out with her platonically it’s not just like that vine where he breaks the skateboard]

Lux: [a quality vine]

Dash: [do we wanna leave this here?]

Lux: [I think we can]

[night-dragon937]

I need to share my experience from a few hours ago (writing this at 2 am aug 24 2020) yesterday but first I'm going to slap a huge tw: abuse, Christianity/gay stuff, anxiety attacks, and yelling/screaming, transphobia/homophobia, self harm/cutting and a lot of cussing/swearing onto this. Like this is deeply religious and I'd rather not have discourse on my beliefs.

That should cover it...

Okay so it started out fine, my mom and i were just talking. She was drunk, and attempting to convince me that my asexuality meant that i was straight... But since she was drunk, I'mma give her that. There was a lot of aphobia but that's not what this is about She started telling me about her experience, and best i can describe it, she's a closeted demisexual biromantic lady with a preference for girls and a shit ton of internalized homophobia ("being sexually attracted to women's bodies more than men's doesn't make me lesbian, I'm still straight")

It was a mostly civil conversation, but it was adding onto my bad feelings from my dad the past several weeks making snide hurtful remarks about our religion and my sexuality and gender. Also using the f-slur against me when i had explained to him in the past how badly that word hurts me, to which he apologized profusely and said he'd never have used that word if he knew how it affected me. Obviously a lie, because he's still using it with full knowledge of the effects.

Back to my mom. She started getting into the religious side of it, but we managed to keep it civil, until the very end when she said she'd be praying for me and i said I'd be praying to help figure out who exactly i am, and she remarked "make sure you're praying to the right person" with a really threatening tone to her voice. At that point, i lost it, let her know that her saying that made me want to go back to cutting (in case she wasn't aware) and said that i needed a moment alone (or something along those lines, i was thrown head first into an anxiety attack and can't quite remember very well).

I ran upstairs as she tried to grab me and pull me back, but i managed to make it to my room. I went into a fetal position, because safe, but she came in and all i remember is her screaming repeating some question, i think, at me, me not being able to breathe, her hands squeezing my wrists way too tight, my wrist pinned to the carpet with her knee, the other with her hand as she tried to grab my jaw and force me to look at her.

Her touching me made the attack worse (hours later i still have marks and scratches) and i couldn't talk, think, or breathe. Somehow i was able to choke out repeated pleas for her to stop touching me because it was making everything worse. I don't know how long that lasted. But at some point she stopped grabbing me and just placed her hands on me and started praying in tongues. Like i was fucking demon possessed. Because i had an anxiety attack. Which my parents have been triggering in me for as long as i can remember.

I managed to sit up and get her to stop touching me, but she refused to be less than a foot away from me, even though i was going through a sensory overload and needed personal space. She finally trapped me into a corner of my room and put her arms on either side of me, one of them holding the door closed. She was screaming in my face and i was yelling over her, asking her to give me personal space and stop being so loud so that i could calm down, which she refused. I ended up very trapped and very uncomfortable and doing my best to not have another anxiety attack while replying to the most outlandish of her accusations, but mostly keeping my mouth shut in an attempt to get her to do the same.

She kept using my deadname, like usual, but it was worse for me for some reason at this point. I mentioned that and got yelled at more. I mentioned her pinning my wrists to the ground and got called a liar and she tried to make it so that i couldn't leave and grab a Kleenex until i admitted she was right and that i pinned myself to the ground (???). So i just started describing what i remembered until she got sick of it and let me go wipe my nose. She must have closed my door when she first came in. My dad (stepdad) was standing outside the door, eavesdropping, apparently.

I got a Kleenex but then my mom started yelling at me again, but i mostly just pretended to listen because i didn't want to have another anxiety attack. My dad started piping in and making me feel so much worse. He ended with saying "you're not a Christian. You don't believe in God. Even the devil believes in God." (Implying that I'm worse than the devil). At which point i started breaking down crying. And then i ran outside to have another anxiety attack but this time my mom just stood on the porch because the grass was wet and she was barefoot, but i curled up under the stars for who knows how long as i forced myself to do breathing techniques, and stim by rubbing the wet grass, which really helped ground me.

I went back inside when i was feeling better and got a drink of water and a Kleenex. And they started telling me how much they loved me and that i might not see it, but they were doing this out of love, because they were concerned for my eternity. I kept pointing out things they were doing that hurt me and better ways to do it (constructive criticism, so they know what's bad for me) and they repeatedly told me how much worse they could make it for me and that i should be glad they didn't make it worse. I pointed out that this didn't make their actions better and they said "doesn't make them wrong, either." Which ????? Victim blaming, abuse, what?

I brought up the times I've cried out to God for answers and the few times He's responded, (refusing my request for Him to kill me, telling me I'm not going to Hell for being gay/queer) bc they kept bringing up a few dubiously translated verses of the Bible and they told me that i was listening to the wrong person. That i was worshipping the wrong one. They heavily implied that i pray and worship the devil (disclaimer: i don't judge those who do, that's your life, I'm not gonna try and decide it for you, also i can admit that the church of Satan makes valid points and treats people right, from what I've seen, this is just a huge insult for them to throw at me specifically because of what I've been taught my whole life). Also invalidating my whole experience just because they don't like it.

They keep bringing up me being involved in the community (following queer people on social media, having one queer shirt, going to gsa-which they told me I'm not allowed to be a part of anymore-, having queer friends) as me seeking validation and attention, and that i shouldn't need validation and it shouldn't be about validation if I really think that this is who i am. Aka, because i am human and seek human things, i must be a total fake and fraud about all I've told them (very little). Meanwhile they do the exact same thing with their friends and social media and each other and everything.

My dad kept piping up with totally unrelated, totally unhelpful comments and tangents while my mom recited the same 5 min spiel for at least half an hour. My dad was saying how my grandparents aren't actually Christians because they agree with me that the world isn't black and white and there are some shades of gray, and because they believe once saved, always saved. That there is nothing you can do, as an imperfect human, to remove yourself from the infinite and unconscious love of God. (... I can't believe he fucking believes that humans have the ability to overrule God because it makes it easier for him to blame and condemn people he sees...)

These are the grandparents who have loved me regardless of my sexuality and gender, even tho they don't agree, and made me feel loved and gave me a place to go when i need to escape from my parents. They're the reason I'm keeping my mom's maiden name (since it hasn't been legally changed) because it's their last name, and it's them i want to honor, not my abusive shitty hateful stepdad. Unfortunately they are moving into assisted living because my papa is in a wheelchair, so i can't move in with them.

He ended that tangent with repeatedly telling me that i was not saved. That i was not a Christian. That i didn't believe in God. And that i was going to Hell. Repeatedly.

My mom made me hug her and made me tell her i love her. I ended up exercising to stop myself from becoming suicidal. I don't know if I'll tell anyone irl apart from the one irl friend i have on here. I'm not sure if I'm going to tell my therapist or not. I reached out to two of my christian friends after everything but they were both asleep. I needed to write this all down and put it somewhere public, just to be safe. I'm not safe in my own home and i can't move out because I'm a. Under 18 and b. Broke as hell

There was a lot more that happened, this lasted several hours, but i honestly can't remember all of the details besides what i typed out. Anyway so yeah i kinda wish i were dead but i also wanna stay alive for spite and show them that i can be a fabulous queer Christian and that the world is colorful, and you can't reduce that to monochrome and expect to have an even partially accurate view of the world. I want to help others like me, and help them feel better about myself.

I'm setting this as a queue so that if my parents take my phone away, they can't stop me from posting it (they have no clue how to look at queued posts) and also so that i can go to bed now and look at it again later and edit it

[justphilia]

There’s a definite chance I might not be writing this BUT

I had a detroit become human idea for a Mob Psycho fic, it’s pretty loose considering I had the idea while sitting in the back of a car and standing under the shower head.

There’s probably a chance I would be writing it but it’s kinda leaning to a “Nah, probably not”.

With that being said, I kinda don’t want to trash the idea as a whole without it meeting the light of day, so I’m gonna spill my ideas here so I can look back and think; “Wow. That’s shit.”

To add, this whole thing will sound more like babbling than an actual summary, so excuse me lmao.

Tsubomi doesn’t have any friends. But coming from a wealthy family, her parents decides to buy her a friend. Cue Shigeo/Mob. 

I had a funny model name for all the child androids ‘ESP(insert number, for Shigeo it’s 100)’ despite this being a no powers AU. Then I realized it probably wouldn’t fit because I am low key planning for all the espers to be androids and realized ‘Wow, ha ha, that’s a lot of androids’ so now SOME of the espers are androids.

Okay so fast forward and Tsubomi’s parents are thinking, “We should replace Shigeo, he’s kinda old fashioned now.”

“Mom we only had him for 4 years.”

“Exactly.”

But Tsubomi’s really attached to Mob because he’s her best friend, and doesn’t tell him he might be replaced until he finds out himself. He goes bat shit crazy and tries to kill himself and Tsubomi. Cue Serizawa, a cop android.

Serizawa calms my boy down and Shigeo’s like, “You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m so--” bang. Tsubomi low key gets traumatized, Shigeo is bleeding blue on the floor.

We shift to the next scene where Shigeo wakes up on like a bed except it’s actually a table. Cue Reigen, he works at Cyberlife as a child therapist/repair worker. Actually, my man was suppose to be just a repair worker but he got promoted to child therapist for calming down a raging Teru.

“Kid, you remember anything?”

“I- Sorta? Where am I, am I gonna be killed?”

Reigen’s like sweating because he isn’t sure himself, Shigeo’s the first kid who tried to commit murder. But as they talked, Reigen’s kinda surprised to realize that Shigeo’s actually a really really sweet kid.

Shigeo asks how Tsubomi is doing and if she hates him. Reigen tells him she’s fine and she misses him. Which is the truth, but he doesn’t mention that Tsubomi did end up getting a replacement in fear of ticking Shigeo off. Cue Ritsu, the replacement android best friend.

There’s a sort of cell holding all the ‘defect’ child androids, like a little playroom but also an actual cell, and inside there’s: Gou, Rei, Takeshi, Daichi, Kaito and Teru.

Cue Teru, who is the only one who has a similar case to Shigeo; he punched a kid in the nose and sent him to the hospital, which made his mom very very pissed and sent him for repairs. Because of this, he’s enraged further and the staff can’t send him back unless his attitude changes to the “ideal son”.

Teru thinks being an android is a gift, he can’t die and he’s pretty much flawlessly shaped. When he meets Shigeo, he asks why he looks so plain, and it’s revealed it’s because Tsubomi didn’t want anything flashy.

And mostly because Shigeo’s an older model.

Each kid (except for Teru) had an actual defect to their system. Gou has somehow obtained a built in lighter function, which isn’t suppose to be there. Rei has the reconstruct and construct feature for unknown reasons. Takeshi is basically a walking magnet, except he doesn’t really know when it’s turned on or off (when it’s turned on, it’s strong enough to accidentally pull all the others towards him and it gets pretty annoying). Daichi and Kaito’s memory cloud keeps syncing with one another, which disrupts them from being able to remember the right things correctly (i.e Daichi gets Kaito’s memories and believes they are his own and vice versa).

The only reason they’re still stuck here is because they come from middle class families (except for Teru), so they’re way behind on the waiting list to get repaired.

Shigeo, on the other hand, came from a rich family, so he’d be out in no time. This makes Teru very mad, he states it isn’t fair that Shigeo gets to be let out sooner than them even though he just got here.

He tries to attack, but unfortunately for him, they’ve installed a software that prevents Teru from being able to kick and punch. Like a parental lock sorta? The same has been done to Shigeo.

Shigeo only makes Teru even more mad when he says he wishes he was human. If he wasn’t human, none of this would’ve happened, “Teru, if you were human, you wouldn’t be right here y’know? Your mom wouldn’t need to send a real human boy for repairs.”

And Teru is pissed because he knows Shigeo’s right. 

But being the cunning bitch he is, he smiles and pretends to accept Shigeo’s opinion, and he asks for a hug. Shigeo happily agrees and let’s Teru wrap an arm around him.

Then Teru squeezes.

“Teru, I can’t, you’re crushing- I can’t--”

“Oh, I know. If I break you enough, you’ll have to stay here with us even longer.”

Shigeo tries to retaliate, but due to the software, he’s unable to kick himself free. The rest tries to intervene, but Teru threatens them to stay back or he’ll squeeze harder.

“Can a human do this? Shigeo? Can they?”

Shigeo manages to break through the system and finally breaks free, he’s back in his aggressive mode and actually starts attacking.

He takes it too far when he rips Teru heart out.

Everyone is screaming at this point and Reigen’s rushing towards the cell like mad. Serizawa is there too, because he wanted to visit Shigeo to see how he’s doing.

“Why are you running?”

“Something bad is happening, I need to be there- Woah there buddy!” Serizawa picks Reigen up and surprises him. Then the android fucking bolts.

When Reigen finally reaches the cell and enters, he finds Shigeo on the ground, bleeding out once again, and Teru staring motionlessly at Shigeo.

“He...gave me his heart.”

Shigeo is sent to be repaired again and this time, he’s kept in a separate cell, because no one knows how he managed to break through their system. It’s almost impossible for a child -and not to mention an OLD- model to be able to do that.

While Reigen’s thinking in his office, cue Mitsuura, who says it’d be a shame for all those child models to lose their cool abilities. He jokes about just creating a child model meant to possess those abilities, like a tiny cop or something.

Cue Suzuki, no no, the other Suzuki. Mommy Suzuki. Except she’s a single lady who surrounds herself with Touichirou, the first ever android model made. That’s right, she’s head of Cyberlife.

She comes in, because she can’t sit still, and says, “Not a bad idea, man.”

Mitsuura has a fit and thanks the woman.

“So, about that old model that broke my parental control lock?” She turns to Reigen and he huffs, shrugging.

“I really don’t know, ma’am.”

She hums, definitely interested. Unlike the OG DBH, in this AU, they’re more lenient in the deviancy of androids because Suzuki believes they can have rights too. Except they don’t need to get paid, unless they want to? Honestly my idea for that aspect is low key fuzzy.

So anyways, Suzuki remembers Mitsuura’s idea and basically starts sketching out the draft. Cue Shou, who doesn’t exist yet but he’s in the making.

“Can you take the extra components of those child androids and keep them somewhere for later use? I’ll be needing them.”

“Ma’am, those androids are at the back of the waiting list, we can’t just--”

“Just do it.”

Cue Roshuuto, who seriously believes they should just kill Shigeo. “He’s too dangerous” blah blah blah SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Anyways, Reigen doesn’t want to do that because a) android or not, that’s a kid and b) You can’t make that decision and neither can I. Only Suzuki can.

Roshuuto sorta frowns, because everyone knows Suzuki plays favorites; and that favorite is Reigen. He’s the reason why Touichi now has a bit of sentience, before that android was pretty ruthless.

So if Reigen personally doesn’t want to get rid of Shigeo, then Suzuki would say the same too.

Meanwhile, Teru has been showing signs of positive improvement in attitude, there’s a speculation it might’ve been because Teru now has Shigeo’s heart, but that’s just dumb. That kid believes he just killed another android and he’s not sure how he feels about it, so he decides the least thing he could do was to be a better android.

Since Shigeo doesn’t share the same cell as them and nobody told them Shigeo survived, everyone in the playroom thinks Shigeo is dead.

Teru gets sent back after that, and the rest of the kids got their needed repairs.

Meanwhile, Shigeo and Reigen has daily consultation sessions, where they try to find the source of Shigeo’s issues. It takes about a month and Reigen hands Shigeo his cellphone number, saying if Shigeo ever needed him, Reigen would be there.

Shigeo gets sent back to the Takane’s family, because if he doesn’t, Tsubomi will throw a fit. She doesn’t do it often, but when she does, it’s ugly. It’s not like she’s spoiled, but when she strongly and firmly wants something, she’s determined enough to get it.

Originally, Ritsu was meant to be a direct replacement of Shigeo. He even had the bowl cut and everything, but Tsubomi’s intelligent and manages to figure out Ritsu’s a fake. She doesn’t get mad at him though, he doesn’t deserve it, instead she just befriends him too. Ritsu becomes a whole new person he wants to be, even mussed up his hair to look different.

So Shigeo meets Ritsu for the first time, and he’s sorta confused and upset, but Tsubomi got attached to Ritsu as well and refuses to leave him. Ritsu says he’s glad to finally meet Shigeo, because he has heard so much about him, and Shigeo decides he could like Ritsu.

I kinda stop making ideas from here, but I had a rough idea what happens next. Teru and Shigeo do meet again at some point, and Ritsu does meet Shou at some point too.

There will be background Serirei, and Shigeo does eventually grow a crush on Tsubomi and confession and oh no it went wrong. I think that’s when Shou makes his first appearance?

Because they think a child can calm another child down. It doesn’t work.

Nobody realizes Reigen’s probably the only thing that can help until the very very last minute.

So anyways, that’s the end of it. I don’t know what to do with this idea because now that I’ve spilled them all on the table, I kinda feel like writing it now. Though I already have two other projects planned, one being Nap’s birthday gift fic and another being a secret project that features Ritshou and amnesia, so it might be delayed to maybe June :(

[astralshipper]

I’m not great with wedding stuff. I’ve been to one wedding ceremony that I fully remember, and that was a very.... southern kind of wedding that I don’t think Sam and Astrael would rlly enjoy.... so here’s some after wedding stuff!! 

Pairing: Sam x Astrael

Word count: 2,337 (IM SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN FOR IT TO BE THIS LONG!!!)

The song used is Grow As We Go by Ben Platt, which I always say is the sam/astrael song!! it’s rlly good and makes me SOB so go listen to it if u don’t know what it is!!

Astra ducked out the back door of the building, leaving the bustling reception behind with a relieved sigh. It’s not that she wasn’t grateful for her friends and family coming to support her, it was more an issue of just wanting some alone time. The cool night air caressed her skin as she made her way to the balcony’s railing. She leaned against the concrete half wall and allowed her eyes to flutter shut. The fabric of her dress ruffled against the wind around her legs. 

The sounds behind her grew louder momentarily as the door opened, only to lower back down with the click of the door closing. Astra didn’t even have to turn to know who had just joined her. Within seconds, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and her head tucked underneath his chin. A wave of relief crashed over her as soon as the familiar scent hit her nose. Though he had clearly gone all out tonight with the aromatic scent of cologne dusting his suit, the classic smell of Sam still lie just beneath. She could still pick up on the hints of coffee and old books that clung to his skin and lulled her to a relaxed state each night as she curled up in his embrace.

His grip on her tightened as she melted into his hold. The tension in her shoulders dropped and she exhaled a long breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her hands moved to rest atop Sam’s arms around her waist. Her head turned on instinct to nuzzle her nose into the fabric of his shirt. 

Sam bent a bit so he could press a soft kiss to Astrael’s temple. His lips lingered in that place for a few seconds, just letting the moment wash over the pair of them. This was the kind of calm they wish they could feel every day, the kind of contentment they longed for in the midst of the constant chaos that they called life.

Astra twisted in her newly wed husband’s grip so they could face one another. Her hands pressed against his chest as she peered up at him, hazel meeting hazel in a moment of pure adoration. “I’m in love with you, Sam,” she whispered into the night. Her voice was just barely audible as the wind carried the cadence to his ears. A soft smile spread across his face, one that caused the dimples Astrael loved so much to deepen. 

He leaned down once more, and this time he pressed their lips together in a true kiss. Astra’s arms looped around his neck in an attempt to tug him impossibly closer. Even after the pair pulled away, they remained against each other as much as possible.

Astra took a moment to take in the sight of Sam after a day of being pampered and complimented. The smile on his face seemed brighter than ever. His eyes sparkled with a contented glint he did not often get to bear. His tuxedo jacket had long since been discarded, likely laying over the back of one of the chairs back in the reception room. His bow tie hung undone around his neck, one side reaching down just a bit more than the other. The top few buttons of his shirt were also unbuttoned and allowed the edges of his anti-possession tattoo to peek out from beneath the fabric. Before the movement could even register in her mind, Astrael’s fingertips were already carefully tracing over the ink with a feather light touch. She raised up on her toes just a bit so she could press her lips to the flame design surrounding the pentagram. 

The pair held each other in silence for a brief moment before the speakers inside switched to the next song. The familiar guitar finger picking seeped out from underneath the door and between the cracks, allowing the hunter and the fallen angel to pick up on the melody. By the time the words kicked in, Astrael had already tilted her head up to give Sam a small smile.

You say there’s so much you don’t know You need to go and find yourself You say you’d rather be alone ‘Cause you think you won’t find it tied to someone else

Sam returned her expression and took a step back, holding one arm behind his back and the other out towards her. He bent over in a bow. “Mind if I have this dance?”

Astra gladly placed her hand in his own. “No one I’d rather dance with.”

The hunter stands to his full height once more and loops his free arm around her waist. Astra places her hand on his chest, fingers curling over the top of his shoulder in a steady grip. Sam recognized her insistence to stand on the tips of her toes, and let out a low chuckle. 

“Stand on my feet,” he invited. Astra’s brows furrowed.

“Are you crazy? No! I’ll hurt you!”

Sam raised a brow in a challenging manner. “Angel, with the shit I’ve dealt with, having you stand on my feet so we can dance is basically a spa day.”

The mumbled words that came from Astra’s mouth were inaudible, but she decided to take his offer anyways and stepped up onto his feet. She waited for him to flinch, wince, shift with discomfort, anything. He simply smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

He pulled her carefully into his chest, the arm around her waist trailing up to rest against the back of her head. Her head lay on his chest, eyes fluttering shut with utter contentment. Never before had she felt safer or happier than in that moment, tucked under the chin of the love of her life, swaying softly to their song. Sam’s eyes shut of the same accord, his jaw clenched in an effort to fight back the tears he had only let spill twice tonight. Once again the burning sensation pricked at his eyes and nose. 

You don’t ever have to leave, if to change is what you need You can change right next to me When you’re high I’ll take the lows You can ebb and I can flow And we’ll take it slow And grow as we go

All the time they’d spent together, the years they’d fought side by side, the losses they’d faced hand in hand, all of it built up to this moment. And now, all of it seemed worth it. Astra’s grip on his dress shirt tightened as her hand balled into a fist. She pressed ever closer to him, as if possibly they could form one being and she would never have to let him go.

Feeling this shift, Sam took in a shaky breath and tightened his hold as well. He tilted his head down so he could bury his face in her hair, which had long since fallen out of the intricate up do that Claire, Jo, and Alex had all worked on together, looked over by Jody who had to step in quite a few times. Sam’s lips pressed against the crown of her head, where only mere hours ago there sat a veil that resembled an angel’s halo, raised just above her head by about half an inch to give the effect of it hovering on its own. But that wasn’t necessary to remind him of her celestial background. Also unnecessary for this were the lace designs depicting angel wings sewn into the back of her wedding dress. Both were small, cute little additions that Astra was head over heels excited about, but they weren’t what was important to him.

He knew she was an angel every day. That’s why he called her that so often. After the fall, Astra began telling him that she wasn’t really an angel anymore, that she was useless and shouldn’t have that term of endearment anymore. Sam refused every single time. It wasn’t her grace that made her an angel, it wasn’t her wings or her abilities, it was just her. 

The woman in his arms turned her head so she could nuzzle her nose into his neck. Once again, she felt herself drift off in the smell of Sam. All she could feel was calm. This was the one place she felt like she could fit in, this was her home. Not Heaven, not the bunker, not the Impala, but Sam. She didn’t need her wings or her grace, she didn’t need a huge house with a white picket fence. All she really needed was her family around her. Sam, Dean, Cas, Jack.... that’s it. 

The song drifted out as the final note was struck, but the couple made no immediate moves to separate. It seemed that in that moment, the reality of the day just came crashing down upon them. Astrael didn’t realize the tears making their way down her own cheeks until she felt Sam’s tears soaking into the hair atop her head.

They finally pulled back just enough to look each other in the eye. Streaks of tears lined both of their faces and their eyes were red rimmed, but their bright smiles were more genuine than ever. Sam’s hands shifted so he was cupping her face in both hands. Astra’s moved to grip at the front of his shirt.

He leaned down towards her, only to stop just a hair’s width away from her lips. “I love you, Mrs. Winchester,” he whispered against her skin.

Astra’s breath hitched at the name, only to be exhaled in a shaky sigh. Her nerves set alight with him so close, yet so far, and the fire in her stomach from his words pushed a small squeak from between her lips. Her neck extended as far as she could in an attempt to connect their lips, but Sam simply moved backwards with her to keep them just barely apart.

Her finger’s fidgeted with the fabric between them. “I love you too, Mr. Winchester,” she managed to reply, voice wobbly and cracking with emotion. A flash of a pearly white smile preceded the final push forward, and Sam finally allowed their lips to connect. Astra’s arms flew up around his neck as his wound around her waist, picking her up just slightly to bring her closer to him. 

A little over an hour later, people would begin exchanging goodbyes. Hugs and tears would be shared, congratulations given, and promises to visit soon agreed to under very insistent pointed fingers. The reception room would fall silent and all that would be left was the same five people that there always was. The newly wed couple remains as close as possible all night. The brother in-law pokes fun at the pair ceaselessly, though his pride for his little brother shines bright in his eyes. The raven haired angel, who for this one day caved in and arrived to the ceremony sans his trademark trench coat, wears a soft smile as he helps the rest of the team to clean up what’s been left behind. The young nephilim beams consistently, practically bouncing on his heels as he dashes to and from the newly weds to ask endless questions. He also wanted everyone to know that he was very excited to be able to wear a full suit for something where he got to tell the truth, though he wasn’t a huge fan of the bow tie. Astra had removed it from around his neck shortly after the ceremony finished after realizing how much the boy tugged at it with discomfort.

The lights would be shut off and the doors locked back up, the room left idle until the next reservation it has planned. Now clad in their normal, every day clothing, the family of five would make their way out to the ‘67 Chevy waiting for them in the parking lot. They’d pile into the car, chatting and laughing and poking fun at each other. Dean might toss his head back in a laugh at something Cas says in misunderstanding, and Sam might reach forward from the back seat to deliver a swift smack to the back of his brother’s head. The old cassette collection will probably make an appearance as the conversation comes to a close and the moon inches its way across the sky. Astra might lay her head down on Sam’s chest halfway through the ride back home, and Sam might begin running his fingers through her hair in a way he knows always works to put her to sleep. Her soft breathing might even out, much like the young nephilim also sleeping on the bench seat beside her.

At this point, Dean might look back in the rear view mirror. If he did, he would see his little brother holding to his chest his new wife, a soft smile on his face that Dean has never seen him bear in any other situation. That’s Astra’s smile, he realized long ago. That’s just for her. The corners of his lips might quirk upwards and maybe, just maybe, he’ll speak softly into the night.

“I’m happy for you, baby brother.”

Sam might blink up at him in the mirror, a look of utter awe on his face. He might trail his fingers through her hair once more as he gives his brother a nod of recognition, and the sound of classic rock overtakes the car once again.

If all of that happens, and if Sam and Astra fall asleep together that night and wake up the next morning, limbs tangled together under the sheets and fingers intertwined, it would mean one thing: Astra finally found her home. After millennia of searching, trying, and failing to find where she fits in, she finally found it in this little patchwork family settled in an old bunker in the middle of no where, Kansas. A sleepy kiss from Sam that morning is truly the cherry on top of it all.

And that’s enough.

[misstinfoilhat]

Whumptober 2019 #16: Scars- Bungou Stray Dogs

This is part 2 of this ----

“How can you do this to yourself?” Kunikida asked, deep in shock. Obviously, Dazai had been hiding something under his bandages. Self-mutilation had always been a distinct possibility, but not in his wildest dreams had Kunikida ever thought that it would be this bad. Nobody should be able to hurt themselves to this extent.

It should not be humanly possible, but then again...

A chill went down Kunkida's spine as he realized for the first time how the name of Dazai's ability actually seemed to fit the distraught man in front of him, in some sick, distorted kind of way. 

Maybe the idea of being in possession of no longer human was what fueled him, manipulating his body and mind into enduring these horrible actions which any sound mind should be unable to commit against oneself.

A faint shake of the head was the only response he could get out of the lethargic man and Kunikida decided to let it be for now.

If he pushed him too hard, it would only end in disaster. Even if Dazai always seemed to worm his way back to life, into the same annoyingly carefree and chipper 'bandage-wasting-suicidal-maniac' (which somehow had become a term of endearment around the agency) he usually was- this situation right here, right now, felt different.

It was real and right in front of him and uncensored and absolutely heart-wrenching.

So Kunikida kept quiet and continued cleaning out the wounds, using strips or stitching them together before covering them with excessive amounts of gauze while his thoughts were spiraling out of control about the days leading up to this...

...which had been utterly uneventful. Nothing to warn them of what was to come at all.

They had been just like any other days, weeks or months, with Dazai doing slightly dangerous things around the office, declaring them as possible suicide methods while wearing a huge grin on his face. Or, shamelessly getting down on his knees in front of any woman in his proximity that he deemed worthy, begging them to commit double suicide with him.

Teasing, agonizing Kunikida to no end, abrupting his thoroughly planned out schedule just to get a reaction- which Kunikida always would give him.

Pretending that Ranpo wasn't fiercely competitive towards him- letting the abilityless (and just a bit clueless), but never the less genius, detective solve several puzzles Dazai himself likely had been able to figure out the second he had laid his eyes on them.

And the way Dazai was huddled up in the corner of the room like a ferocious animal when Kunikida had come in...

“Who did you think I was?” Kunikida finally asked carefully. Dazai bearly stirred.

“Hm?” Dazai hummed, still a long way from his bathroom in his mind. But, he finally seemed to be waking up from the hypnotic daze he had been trapped inside.

“When I came in... You seemed to think I was someone else.”

“Oh.”

Dazai was weary and pale, probably from blood loss and sleeplessness. Kunikida had just begun to sew shut yet another gash on his arm, but the stinging, throbbing sensations that radiated from the self-inflicted wounds exceded far beyond Kunikida's precise stitches.

“I- I'm not sure,” Dazai answered sincerely, winching a little as Kunikida tied the first stitch at the next laceration.

“Sorry,” Kunikida muttered quietly, but Dazai only waved it off as not a big deal.

“I think I was somewhere else, in my mind, I mean,” Dazai explained before he scoffed drearily. “When you let yourself in, I was looking for a weapon I haven't borne in 5 years.”

At that, Kunikida raised an interested eyebrow, but continued his work meticulously all the while, hoping that his cryptic partner might continue this rarety of opening up if he didn't interfere too much.

Of course, Dazai didn't, which wasn't too surprising considering that he was the same man who had managed to keep his past position as one of the most powerful (not to mention dangerous) people of the Japanese underworld a secret for years. A position he had reached when he was still just a teenager.

How this suicidal, manically depressed goofball could manage such a thing, was something Kunikida would never be able to truly comprehend. It was likely something none of them would ever understand- they would never know how a scrawny child with a death wish had ended up as an executive in one of the most feared gangs in the world.

The only person in possession of those answers was currently seated on a toilet seat in front of him, bleeding from countless lacerations reaching from his throat to the soles of his feet.

So, Kunikida decided that he couldn't pounder on that part of Dazai's past anymore. It was simply too bizarre, and even if Dazai clearly was very haunted, maybe focusing on who Dazai was now- not who he used to be, could somehow pull him out of this self-destructive apathy.

Or maybe it's not Kunikida who needs to stop thinking of Dazai as a monster.

Kunikida cleared his throat, catching Dazai's glassy eyes that had previously stared blindly into his lap.

“Dazai, I know I might be the last person you'd want to hear something like this from, but I'm going to say it anyway... You have to stop blaming yourself for... whatever it is that's tearing you apart. You need to stop living in the past and start looking forward to the future... The past is clearly eating you alive, but the future just might save you.”

Dazai only looked at him. For a long time, while a small, pained smile slowly tugged at the corner of his mouth. Dejected, he let his hair fall in front of his eyes, and something in his expression shifted.

“Of course, Kunikida-kun... I have to stop dwelling on the past and focus on the future. It all makes sense now,” he murmured in an eery whisper, bitterness, and animosity dripping off his tongue like blood from a blade.

Like the blood, dripping from Dazai's hands, arms, legs, feet, torso, hips, chest, neck... Kunikida was clearly over his head in gaping wounds.

“Dazai...” Kunikida started to say, but Dazai jerked his head back up. Exhausted yet fiercely focused, half-lidded eyes peered holes through Kunikida, almost startling the usually stoic man out of his kneeled stance in front of him, needle still between two pieces of flesh, ready to tie it back together.

“No, you're absolutely right. If I just stop thinking about it, it will all go away. I will win back my will to live. This aching, gnawing, harrowing emptiness that makes me utterly unable to feel a single thing except for unbearable guilt, will just disappear! The loved ones of those I've tortured and killed will finally be at peace! It won't matter that I've orphaned countless children and simultaneously been the sole reason that the only man that could've saved them was killed-” his voice broke off in an abrupt, pained choke.

Trying to brace himself, he inhaled a sharp shuddering breath. Carefully exhaling, everything shattered again and he was left heaving on the toilet seat, somewhere in between a sob and hyper-ventilating.

“Shit, Dazai... I didn't mean...” Kunikida quickly finished the stitch he had been working on and cut the thread. He backed up, giving the struggling man some space.

“...do you really want to know why I do this to myself?” Dazai asked venomously, crouched down on himself in a way that Kunikida couldn't decide reminiscent a hug or a straight-jacket.

“It's my punishment. These are all my sins. No matter how many scars that litter my body, it will never be enough...” His voice was shaking, fragile and small, struggling to bear.

“I can't keep count of them, just like I lost count of all the people I've hurt... how many families I've destroyed... So, I wear these scars on my sleeves as a constant reminder of what I've done, and it will never be enough... Not until it kills me.”

Kunikida wanted to say something, anything.

...but what was there to say, really? Kunikida knew a thing or two about regret, that much was true. Still, what Dazai had done... What good was a regretful sinner to anyone? Or a dead sinner, for argument's sake...

It wouldn't change the past. It wouldn't change his wrongdoings.

“At least, you're helping people now, Dazai. It won't cancel all the other things out, but it does count for something.”

“...do you know what the worst part is, Kunikida?” Dazai asked, seemingly ignoring the blonde's attempt of encouragement.

“...the worst part is, that... even if what you say is true...” 

He was unable to finish that sentence the way he intended.

Again, Dazai choked on his words. He cleared his throat, fighting back tears (because he didn't deserve to cry- didn't deserve to grieve or morn or feel fucking sorry for himself-) before he was able to force out in a pained whisper, “...it won't bring him back.”

Kunikida had come closer now, leaning down with his hands hovering insecurely over Dazai's battered body, wanting, but lacking the courage to place the comforting touch he so wanted to set on his partner's shoulder.

Suddenly, Dazai yanked his head back up. His expression was tight, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. His irises seemed to wobble from unshed tears as he grabbed onto the taller man's shirt.

At the blink of an eye, literally, Dazai's body betrayed him. One tear fell, two tears fell, and finally, the flood gates opened.

Kunikida stared horrified, paralyzed by the rare sight. Dazai was showing real, unfiltered emotions.

Quickly, the idealist shook himself out of his stupified immobilization and pulled the trembling man in, locking his arms around him tightly.

Dazai cried silently. The only sound coming from him was an occasional shuddering heave for air, and Kunikida only tightened his grip around him, whispering repeatedly in his ear that it was okay.

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

Kunikida came around his car to help Dazai out. He had reluctantly agreed to use the crutches that Kunikida had found inside the closet in Dazai's bedroom, to ease the pressure on his newly stitched feet. It had been the strict condition for driving him out here instead of to the infirmary.

Dazai stood, heavily leaned on them and peered over the graveyard he had lead them to. Kunikida stood beside him, trying to follow his gaze, which guided him towards an old, weeping willow. Its branches leaned tiredly over a sole gravestone at the absolute edge of the site, with a beautiful outlook over the ocean.

Dazai started to hobble his way towards the tree, the snow dancing around him like angles in an ethereal snowball fight before Kunikida was able to shake himself out of his musings and hurried to catch up to his partner.

“Wait up,” he said, raising his voice slightly before catching up to him. Dazai really didn't need to slow down- the trail was icy and Dazai was clearly struggling to make his way, with the crutches slipping off the path now and then- leaving him looking unstable and clumsy.

But, he didn't look back. He soldiered forward, aimed intently at the modest gravestone under the beautiful tree.

Once there, Dazai let himself crumble to the ground in front of it, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a lighter. Using his bare hands, he dug out a small lantern from under the snow, and re-lit the light inside of it.

It immediately illuminated their surroundings, giving their evocative spot in the dim graveyard a serene, celestial glow.

Kunikida curiously leaned over to read the writing on the stone. It said Oda Sakunosuke- born October 26th, died January 10th...

...oh.

Reading further, the engraving read in beautiful cursive, “Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, become a good man. Save the weak, and protect the orphans.”

Suddenly, he understood the significance this man had had on Dazai's life.

“It was his last words,” Dazai said calmly, apparently noticing Kunikida reading. “He is the reason I left the Port Mafia, to spend my life in the light.”

Kunikida nodded, captivated by the moment.

“You truly cared about this man, didn't you?” Kunikida stated severely. Dazai gave him a curt nod and concentrated his attention back to the tomb.

“He was a good man,” Dazai confirmed solemnly.

“I'm sure.”

“He...” Dazai started to say, but cut himself off.

Kunikida kept standing behind, watching the wind tearing at his partner's clothes, ruffling his hair in the frigid winter-breeze.

“...yes,” Dazai finally continued. “He was... He was too good for this world.”

The snow shifted behind him. Kunikida lowered into the snow by Dazai's side.

Together, they sat there in comfortable silence, quietly honoring the man's life on the anniversary of his death.

The air was chilly, and Kunikida felt the snow soaking through his trousers, but he was going to keep sitting there for as long as Dazai needed.

After some time, Dazai reached into his pocket and took out a small flask. He opened it, muttering a quiet “Kenpai',” and poured out a small amount onto his friend's grave, before bringing it to his own lips, taking a sip. He passed it along to Kunikida- who was driving, but still accepted it. “Kenpai,” Kunikida repeated with a nod, gesturing towards the grave in a small toast.

The whiskey burned on its way down his throat, warming him up a little.

After their drink, Dazai was finally starting to get up, and Kunikida hurried to his feet to help him out. He handed the crutches over to him and turned to leave.

Dazai stayed back for a moment, smiling faintly at his friends final resting place.

“See you soon, Odasaku,” he murmured silently, bowing his head in respect before following Kunikida's lead.

Kunikida didn't want to think about what he might have meant by that.

Calmly, they walked back towards the car, side by side. Dazai still struggled a bit but was keeping Kunikida's pace never the less.

“Thank you,” Kunikida uttered suddenly, and stopped. Confused, Dazai tilted his head and peered back at him.

“For what?”

“For showing me this. I really appreciate it. I know it's... sacred.”

Dazai lowered his gaze for a moment, before a sad sort of smile appeared on his lips.

“Oda deserves for people to know what a great man he was. I should be better about that, huh?”

Kunikida shrugged. “Maybe so, but I think an even better way to honor his memory, is to stop disappearing for days and hurting yourself. I didn't know Sakunosaku-san, but if he's half the man you claim him to be, I'm sure he wouldn't want that for you.”

Considering this for a moment, Dazai nodded his agreement as if it was a thought that had never occurred to him before.

“Yeah, you're probably right...”

“None of us do,” Kunikida pressed on.

They had arrived back at the car now. Dazai got in, while Kunikida ushered the crutches in the back before getting into the driver's seat.

Longingly, Dazai stared out of the window as they pulled out from the parking lot in front of the graveyard, heading back towards the solitude and pressing atmosphere of the dormitories. 

Somehow, Dazai dreaded it, afraid that his head would spiral back into that dark space. He already envisioned ripping open the countless amount of stitches one by one, fixating the pain from his inside to the outside of his body- letting crimson liquid escape, reminding him of the many screams of his defenseless victims as he stomped their heads onto the pavement and-

“Don't.”

A hand was placed on top of his own, and he realized that he was subconsciously picking at his stitches over the bandages. Dazai blinked several times, surprised that he had let his mask slip.

Kunikida sighed audibly.

“I'm sorry,” Dazai muttered, parting his hands.

“Don't apologize, just... Just don't do that.”

Ashamed of himself, embarrassed about his slip-up, Dazai kept quiet for a long time. The silence in the car felt pressing and uncomfortable- and Kunikida racked his brain for something to say. He didn't want to leave Dazai alone with his thoughts for too long.

“...if you don’t, I'll tape oven mitts to your hands, like a toddler with chickenpox.”

Dazai snorted, willingly taking the bait. 

“Actually, picking at your stitches soften the skin and make it scar less,” Dazai proclaimed matter of factly.

Kunikida side-glanced at his bandaged partner, for once, understanding where this was going-

“You should probably write that down,” Dazai smirked knowingly, receiving a chuckle in response, and a light smack across the head.

[tornbetween2loves]

Riley’s Dream Birthday

This fic is one of the requests I received for my 150- follower giveaway. It was requested by @cora-nova who wanted some happy fluffy romantic poly action for Liam x Riley x Bastien. I must apologize for two reasons. 1. I suck at writing fluff. All my fluff just turns smutty. So this fic is pretty smutty. But everyone is quite happy in this fic, as you’ll see. 2. I really had a difficult time with this one. I view Bastien as a father figure to Drake, and since he and Liam are so close I have a hard time imagining a scenario where he would have a sexual relationship with Liam. So I’m sorry @cora-nova if this fic is not exactly what you expected. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them.

Warnings: This fic contains smut. Lots of it. It is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

Pairings: Liam x Riley x Bastien(?)

Word Count: 1,933

Riley giggled as Liam whispered in her ear. “My queen, let me tell you about all the things I am going to do to you once we are alone.” They staggered their way down the hall toward their private quarters, both of them a bit tipsy from the drinks they had at dinner. They stopped just outside of their quarters, Liam pinned her to the wall next to the door as he kissed her neck and trailed his tongue from the nape of her neck up to her ear. Riley shrieked as the kiss sent waves of electricity right to her core. She opened her eyes and locked on to a pair of steel-grey ones just behind them. Bastien cleared his throat and Liam raised his head and took a step back. He smiled as he patted Bastien on the shoulder. “Sorry about that.” He fished into his pocket and pulled out keys, then fumbled to unlock the door. All the while Riley’s eyes remained locked on Bastien’s, both of them with pupils blown wide.

His eyes travelled down to her neck and bodice, admiring her breasts in her low-cut evening gown. Riley’s lip quivered and she sunk her teeth into it so it wasn’t noticeable. Liam didn’t see this, but Bastien picked up on it immediately. A slight smile formed on his lips as he watched her mouth intently. Liam opened the door and pulled Riley into his arms. She howled as he lifted her into his arms to carry her into the apartment honeymoon-style. She glanced over his shoulder to lock eyes with Bastien’s once more. His smile was wider this time as he winked at her. She winked back and kept her eyes on him as Liam carried her inside and kicked the door shut behind her.

He carried her all the way down the hall to the bedroom, lying her down gently on the bed. “My queen, you look absolutely ravishing in this gown.” He kissed her lips softly, then made his way down her neck to her collarbone. His hands slipped down the front of her gown as he freed her breasts from her bra. She moaned and arched her back as he sucked one nipple into his mouth while he rubbed the other between his finger and thumb. Then he slowly moved down her torso as he slipped his hands through the slit in her dress. He pulled her dress up above her hips to her waist. He growled as he slid his fingers through the side of her thong to expose her wet center. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as Liam slowly slid his fingers inside her as his tongue flicked her sensitive nub.

“Ahem. Delivery your majesties.” Riley snapped her head up and saw Bastien in the doorway with a vase of red roses in his hands. Their eyes locked together immediately, then she realized that Liam didn’t stop what he was doing. She sat up and scooted back on the bed a bit so she was just out of his reach. He looked up at her with concern. “What’s wrong my love?” Riley bit her lip as she folded her arms across her bare breasts and motioned toward Bastien with her head. Liam stood up, walked over to him and took the vase and set it on the nightstand. “These are for you, my queen. Happy birthday. But that’s not your only present.” He shot her a sexy smile and winked at her as he removed his suit jacket and tugged on his tie. He turned to Bastien with a raised brow. He followed suit and removed his own jacket and tie. He draped them both over the arm of a chair just inside the door, then turned and crashed his lips on Liam’s in a fiery kiss.

Riley watched in amazement, her mouth agape, as her husband and their guard kissed and undressed each other. Soon both men pulled away from each other and stood before her naked. They gazed at her lustily as she tried to find words. “I-I don’t—this is—what is going on here?” She locked her gaze on Bastien again, there was something irresistible in those grey eyes. Liam sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “This is your birthday present. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. The flirtations are quite obvious at times to be honest. I spoke to Bastien about this arrangement and he admits to admiring you from afar for quite some time.” Riley looked at Bastien uneasily. “And you’re ok with this, Bastien? Are you sure this isn’t against some kind of Royal Guard protocol?”

Bastien laughed as he approached the bed. “My queen, this is most certainly against every protocol the Royal Guard has. However, I exist to serve the king and queen. It is my desire to fulfill your deepest wishes.” He locked his gaze on her. Riley shivered with anticipation. She stood up and faced the two men. “Very well. But I want to call the shots.” She slowly kicked off her stilettos and turned around to face her back to Bastien. “Unzip me, please.” He stood up and laid his hands gently on her shoulders. He swept her hair to the side over one shoulder and slowly unzipped the dress. His breath hitched as he caught sight of her black thong and back-seam thigh-high stockings. He kissed her shoulder, then planted soft kisses all along her shoulder to the back of her neck. Riley moaned softly, excited by the touch and kiss of someone new. Bastien pulled her gown off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor in a pool at her ankles.

Riley’s heart pounded as she felt Bastien trail his tongue along her collarbone up to her neck, then her ear. His breath was hot on her neck as he whispered, “I have watched you since you first came here. Your beauty takes my breath away, your majesty.” He nibbled her earlobe and she closed her eyes. “I await your command, my queen.” “As do I, my love.” She opened her eyes to meet her husband’s right in front of her. He kissed the opposite side of her neck softly, trailing kisses across her shoulder and back to her ear. Riley trembled as her breath quickened. Her senses were heightened, she felt her king pressed up against the front of her and her bodyguard behind, and suddenly she lost the ability to think straight. Both men sucked gently on her neck as she moaned her need.

“My king—Bas—oh!” She closed her eyes as she felt two hands slip between her legs, one sliding fingers into her wet center and the other circling her sensitive nub. Liam sucked her nipple into his mouth, biting gently as Bastien continued kissing her neck. The tension built quickly in her core as she got lost in the sensation of their touch. Her whole body began to tremble as her orgasm washed over her in waves. She cried out in passion as her knees buckled, but they held her close and set her down gently on the bed. After a few moments, she looked at the men standing naked before her. She locked eyes with her husband. “What do you want, my king?”

He shot a sideways glance at Bastien. “This night is about you, my love. You’re calling the shots, remember?” Riley smiled and shook her head slightly. “That’s right and right now I want you to tell me what you want.” Liam stood back, his eyes darkening as he gazed at his wife, then switched his gaze to Bastien. “I want to watch you make love to my wife.” Riley’s breath hitched at his words as she locked eyes with Bastien. Her whole body tingled with anticipation as Bastien bowed slightly to Liam. “As you wish, your majesty.”

Liam pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down as Bastien locked eyes with Riley and crawled slowly up to her from the foot of the bed. She fought to keep her breathing steady as he lingered between her legs. “Just a taste, my queen. I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.” Riley arched her back as he sunk his tongue deep inside her for just a moment, then continued to move up her body. He kissed and caressed all her curves and lingered at her breasts before moving up to kiss her hard on the mouth.

She was breathless with desire as she felt his hardness positioned at her entrance. She gasped as he entered her and whimpered his name softly. He thrusted in and out slowly as he whispered softly in her ear. “You feel so good around me, my queen. I’ve wanted to sink myself inside you for so long.” She moaned his name as the tension tightened in her belly. She was vaguely aware of her husband’s voice as he called her name. “Riley! Riley!”

“Riley, wake up, we’re almost home.” Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head, disoriented. She could still feel Bastien on top of her, inside of her, her desire was still pooled at her core. She met Liam’s gaze, a little embarrassed. “My king, I am sorry I must have dozed off.” He smiled and used the handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth. “You certainly did. You must’ve been having a dream. You kept calling out Bastien’s name rather urgently.”

Riley’s eyes widened and her face flushed. Shit! She recovered quickly and smiled sweetly at her husband. “Hmmm that’s odd. I don’t recall a dream.” They pulled up the palace drive and Bastien opened the car door. He extended his arm to help Riley out of the car. She blushed all the way down her neck as she felt a jolt when she put her hand in his. Bastien smiled at her and winked. She gazed into his sparkling grey eyes and swore for just a minute that he knew her secret. Liam climbed out of the limo behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist possessively. Bastien broke his gaze with the queen and closed the car door, then followed behind the king and queen as they made there way into the palace and the royal apartment.

Mara smiled as the king and queen approached the door of the apartment. “Good evening your majesties. Your residence is secure. You may enter.” She opened the door as Liam lifted Riley into his arms. She locked eyes with Bastien over his shoulder. “Happy birthday, your majesty,” he said with a wink and a smile as he closed the door behind them.

“Do you have big plans this evening,” Mara asked just as Bastien felt his phone vibrate against his leg. His face broke out in a huge grin as he checked his messages. There was a picture of Olivia with a trench coat wrapped around her. Her fiery red locks fell in waves across one side of her face and a fedora rested on her head. Her eyes were dark and sultry. A message popped up below the picture that read:

Guess what I’m wearing under this coat?

Bastien’s mouth went dry and he shifted himself slightly. He cleared his throat. “Yes Mara, I would say I have big plans. Good night.” He turned and headed back to the palace as he typed.

I’m on my way to find out

Tagging: @kennaxval @indiacater @carabeth @bella-ca @boneandfur @bobasheebaby @stopforamoment @alesana45 @debramcg1106 @speedyoperarascalparty @drakewalkerwhipped @femmeshep @hhiggs @lizeboredom @pb-boeboe @klaudiana-beaumontkkreal @katurrade @lodberg @hopefulmoonobject @missevabean @walkerismychoice @eileendannie @museofbooks @jared2612 @h3llostrang3r @ooo-barff-ooo @cora-nova @jovialyouthmusic @gardeningourmet @innerpostmentality @furryperfectionlover @sirbeepsalot

[regrettablewritings]

How You Met AU: Rafael Barba

Lifted from this ship meme

He’s back again, you thought, staring at the sharply-dressed man sitting at the bar. Every so often, he took a sip from his glass of scotch, never looking up from the papers strewn about before him. He was nearing the end of his first glass after only ten minutes – that meant the case wasn’t going too well. You preferred not to think of it as stalking, seeing as you worked at Martelli’s and he frequented the place enough for you to recognize his tendencies, but you tried to give yourself some leeway by considering what you knew from the news: That ADA Rafael Barba, notorious for taking on difficult cases and nearly winning all of them, had become a participant in one such situation that was already proving to be one of the harder types. Of course, the news wasn’t the source that allowed you to acknowledge how attractive he was – you did that all on your own, watching at a distance. Or by managing to catch a quick glimpse of him whenever you came by to serve him, rare as that was. The news couldn’t tell you that his eyes were a shockingly lovely shade of green, or that his profile displayed a sharp, yet handsome nose. The news would never show you that if he was particularly deep in a case, he would remove the jacket of one of those snappy suits and strip his top layers until he was down to his shirt and suspenders (of which, you wanted nothing more than to snap). The news couldn’t show you the way those pretty eyes of his focused on his paperwork, scanning each and every word before those slender fingers of his would guide a pen across one section or another to circle a particular word or phrase. No, that was all on you.

You and your stalkerish tendencies, you thought bluntly. That earned a mental elbow to the brain, telling your own mind to shush itself. You watched as he placed his now empty scotch glass on the worn, wooden counter. He’d be wanting another, you knew. Which you know because you’re a creeper. You had half a mind to perform the mental elbowing again, had you not been distracted by the small, odd feeling of victory you felt when you saw him order yet another glass. Though part of you wondered if there’d even be enough room for the grilled tilapia he’d ordered. Speaking of which … “Hey, (L/N), you mind graciously taking time out of your nigh-daily creeping and actually helping out?” You whipped around, panic setting in. “Sssshhhh, you jackass!!” you hissed at your coworker. Daniel, the chef, huffed with bemusement. “Just statin’ the obvious,” he grunted. You made quick work of speed walking back into the main kitchen. “I know, but still!” you insisted. You pointed a thumb behind you, back where ADA Barba was. “But what if he heard you?!” Daniel shrugged. “Then I s’ppose I would’ve made one more move than you. Either way, not my problem. Order up: Grilled tilapia with a side of string beans.” He plopped a plate holding exactly that on the pickup shelf. Your hands twitched; it could only be for the man outside. Not a lot of people typically ate at this place at this time of night. “Uh … Danny? That’s Sylvia’s job; I just clean tables, ‘member?” “Sylvia called off. Said she had a migraine the side of an elephant’s ass.” “Bullshit, both to her saying that and to her actually having a migraine,” you rejected. You then scoffed, “She’s probably just hungover, call her again and tell her to stop trying to get other people to do her job for her.” “That may be,” Daniel admitted with a roll of his eyes. “But even if I did, she wouldn’t be here before that tilapia makes it to the table. Because you’re gonna give it to ‘em long before then. Now quit trying to throw me off, I got other crap to do.” You crossed your arms. “Nobody else even ordered, Daniel.” “All the more reason for you not to get sidetracked and to just give the guy his damn food before it gets cold.” He slapped the metal counter with his spatula to show that he meant business and wasn’t going to take any more of your dillydallying. Well, shit. You’d felt so confident (albeit irritated) when you’d first stormed over and snatched up the plate. It was all you could do to keep the platter leveled just enough to keep the string beans from flying off.

You’d felt so insistent in the beginning. You mentally scowled at yourself for being so juvenile. It was bad enough to partake in some weird and creepy double standard of gawking at a customer you found attractive from a distance; it simply rubbed dirt into the wound that you were letting that effect your ability to actually do your job properly – even if it technically wasn’t the exact position you’d been hired for. And what better way to prove yourself competent and clear-headed than to actually do the damn job without a speck of worry?

This had been your thought process as you strutted out the kitchen and through the threshold leading into the main dining area. But just as soon as they came, they evaporated. The sight of ADA Barba, hard at work with his pen scrawling along the papers, reminded you of the nerves you had. And suddenly, the plate felt heavy in your arm. It threatened to leap out of your hold and send itself shattering to the floor, directing everyone (what few there were)’s attention to you. Including ADA Barba, who would most definitely think something foul of you for not only startling him, but for ruining his meal.

No, you sternly told yourself. Not today, Plate-Satan… . Plate-an. You were going to suck it up, march over there, and do literally the easiest thing you could’ve done all night! … Aaaaany second now.

It was honestly part-miracle, part-actual will that you didn’t drop the meal as you neared its destination. But nearly nothing could stop you from nearly thudding the plate against the counter. Granted, it could’ve been your anxiety convincing you that you had all but smashed the dish down. But then … he turned. And you could no longer hear anything but the sound of your heart beating inside your skull. While this wasn’t the first time you’d seen them, this was certainly the first time those beautiful, beautiful eyes of his were focused on you. And they didn’t appear to be scowling at you as you thought they would, or even staring at you with perplexity over how obviously strange you were coming off as. You were lucky to consider that look as one of courtesy. But, of course, your infatuation told you to read far more into it than necessary. “D-dyouneedanythingelsesir?” you blarbed. You wished for nothing more than for a meteor to crash through the ceiling and strike you down in that moment. But alas, no such natural phenomena befell Martelli’s, nor you. It was probably for the better, however, as ADA Barba still seemed predominately unfazed. “No thank you. But I appreciate the offer,” he said. You gulped heavily.

“Good,” you practically gasped. You forgot when your fingers started to wring themselves nervously before your apron. “Pleaseenjoyyourmeal!”

You swore to yourself that you weren’t running, or that your footsteps weren’t stiff. But you knew that something about the way you retreated was abnormal, given how Daniel was smirking at you from the doorway leading back into the kitchen. You tried to pay him no mind as you made a beeline to a fridge. You placed your scorching face against the cool metal and groaned.

“Wooowwwww,” Daniel teased. “I haven’t seen moves so smooth since my middle school dance on the cusp of puberty.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you groused. “I thought you had shit to do anyway.”

“I did. It just so happened that watching you nearly crap yourself talking to that guy was on of ‘em.”

“Fuck you.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted him to do.”

++++++++

You didn’t watch him for the rest of the time he was there. You couldn’t bear to do so. You were beyond thankful when another coworker arrived for their shift, thereby freeing you from having to provide further contact with the object of your infatuation and cause of your humiliation.

… So why was Erica coming back to you and insisting that you go pick up the tip he’d left at his eating spot once he was ready to go?

“He insists that it’s because you were the first one to serve him,” she shrugged. Shit.

You tried not to think about how awkward you must’ve looked, glancing out from the back before actually making a move. He was gone, but sure enough some green paper money was visible. It was only as you neared it and removed the glass it had been sitting under that you recognized it as being a decently generous tip for a bar of all places.

Usually, to get a $20 tip, one might have to show a little skin, act a little flirtatious. You were pretty sure essentially vomiting up words and acting a fool wasn’t regular good cause for such a generous donation.

It was then that you noticed that the benevolent attorney had left you one last thing. There, also held in place by the scotch glass, was a napkin with writing on it. It was in red ink – the same red ink he’d been using to circle and underline on his notepad earlier.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to handle the tissue so gingerly, as though it were some great treasure instead of a completely disposable paper product. But what mattered more was how you handled it as you observed what was scrawled upon it in clean, swirling cursive:

I can’t imagine it’s any fun just *watching* somebody eat. Maybe next time you’d like to join me? – Rafael Barba You blinked once. Twice. You narrowed your eyes, scrunching your face inward as you brought the napkin closer and then away. But the message stayed the same.

This … This had to have been a joke, right? You glanced at the door, knowing what nonsense there was in assuming ADA – pardon, Rafael Barba would still be there. You were pleasantly and completely surprised to see that he was, in fact, just composing himself after placing his jacket back on and positioning his bag on his shoulder. Even from where you stood, you could see the lovely glint of his eyes. He smiled at you. Not a courteous one as a customer could to any member of the waitstaff – a kind, warm, sweet one, if a hint wobbly at the upturn. As if he were nervous. And then … a wink. The sound of your heart thundering in your ears and the subsequent blurring of your vision from the rush of blood made you miss the exact moment he departed, but the effect took its hold of you for quite some time after that. Even as you cleaned up and clocked out, your thoughts were stuck on that moment, the napkin, everything. Should you tell somebody? Who should you tell?

… Well, wasn’t that a silly question?

++++++++

Sonny Carisi glanced at his phone the moment he felt it vibrating in his pocket. He had been waiting on a message from Rollins, but he was happy enough to hear from you. You will not *BELIEVE* what just happened, dude, you’d messaged your friend. He couldn’t help but smirk. Unfortunately, it was noticed by somebody else. “Gee, I hope I wasn’t called here at last minute just to see some cat video or whatever,” Rafael Barba snarked as he waltzed into the precinct.

“Nah, I wish,” Sonny said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Were you havin’ a good evening?”

“Was,” Rafael sighed, trying not to furrow his brows with irritation. “I finally gave that bar you’d been going on about a try.”

“Oh?” Sonny asked, placing his hands on his hips. “Which one?”

“Martelli’s.” “Really? My friend works there, I oughta tell her to keep an eye out for ya!”