#anyway I’m in a weird mood so look out for reblogs cause I might just educate ya

[edge-oftheworld]

starting to think no one in this fandom knows what dissociative disorders are

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Hiii! Could I ask for E, M, Y for Zoro please? 🥰 thanks so much 💖💖

E   :   EMBRACE.   Does your s/o like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Answered here. 

M   :  MILESTONE.  what was the exact moment your s/o realised they had feelings for you?

It was right after the encounter with Kuma on Thriller bark, afterwards the crew partied away in celebration of Moria's defeat when Zoro laid Yubashiri to rest. He hadn't spoken about what happened with Kuma (not that anyone else other than the love cook and unbeknownst to him, Robin, anyway) or anything else that transpired on the island really, his captain's head was still on his shoulders and he just wanted to get off this damn island as soon as possible and get the crew to Fishman Island. 

When you sat next to him by the gravesite he didn't mind it, after all your company doesn't bug him especially when you have a jug of sake to offer to share with him. The two of you sit together in comfortable silence as the alcohol burns down his throat before passing the jug back to you with a quiet; "Thanks, (Name)." From the corner of his eye he watches how your expression shifts from several different emotions before finally swigging the jug back to down some alcohol yourself. 

"I get why you did it." These are the words Zoro feels his entire body freeze by. You tell him how you made physically tried making yourself from passing out in that moment in attempts to help continue with the fight and that you managed long enough to watch Zoro make the deal with Kuma but not long enough to see that the Warlord actually did, but you took it from how beat up and unconscious he was by the end of it, it was extremely rough. 

"You're one tough and lucky bastard, you know that? I hate that you can...be so fucking stubborn at times to end up so critically injured and to go that much far in attempts to save Luffy but - I think if it were anyone else of us, I think we'd do the same thing. Though even that's the case I - " You take a deep breath through your nose before in a quieter voice saying; "I still care and worry about you so at least allow me to be mad at you for almost getting your ass killed at least a little bit." Zoro stays silent, the look in his eyes unreadable as he finally looks over to you and his eyes dart all around your face before closing with a sigh, when they finally open they soften a little bit with his old smirk and sly retort. With that you stand back up with a stretch.

"I'm going back to the Sunny, when you're done here make sure you don't get lost along the way, okay? I don't feel like coming back and having to drag your ass back." He rolls his eyes with a snort. "I know where the ship is, (Name)." You cock a brow "Do you?" A light blush tints his his that only gets darker when you reach down and peck a kiss to his check before slugging the sake jug back onto your shoulder and making your way back to the ship. 

Zoro takes a moment to notice the weird feel in his chest and looks to where Yubashiri is buried for a moment to collect his thoughts. He cares for you, he knows that much and if he learned anything from here it's that he's going to get even stronger if he wants to protect his family. He promises himself he's going to let nothing happen to you. 

Y   :   YOURS.   does your s/o get protective/possessive easily?

You're your own person so you deserve your own space just like he does. However, given to current moods and situations, Zoro might feel the need to have you right next to him just so that anyone with troublesome ideas knows if they're looking to cause you trouble that'll they'll then have to go through him first. 

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[yesvaldemarharder]

Yandere Arcana

Ayo so um.. with 723 followers I really be expecting people for more input on things I should write (requests, ideas, convos, etc) but um.. I guess not? Lol. Anyway since I’m basically writing for like a couple people (people who actually respond to my work cause I like that. If you just like and reblog that’s fine but I still like hearing what people have to say about my work. If your shy don’t be.. I literally don’t judge..) I’ll go ahead and write scenarios for Yandere Arcana. If y’all want more of this just tell me. I was almost tempted to do nsfw lol!

I wanna say that I haven’t played the game enough to finish anyone’s route and while I want to, ya girl broke so picking choices is something I have to wait a while for as well. (The cost on those coins and I can’t even get a Valdemar route??? What type of shit-)

If any of the characters seem ooc I apologize I just really wanted to write this so um.. yeah.

I guess I’ll take the time to part a warning right here: If you don’t like yanderes or anything of the sort I suggest you don’t read this! I would do the ‘below the cut’ thing but I’m all honestly I don’t know how to.. so here ya go!

You have been warned!

-

Asra

Asra is a tricky yandere. He knows you well enough to get into your head.

He may take times to keep a distance from you but whenever he messages you or comes back he always makes sure to show you so much affection just so you hopefully don’t question anything.

He’ll act like something to you matters to him, and usually they do matter but if you’re talking about a love interest or something he’ll act supportive but will really be a bit annoyed on the inside.

Depending on your love interest he may get upset or simply will smile and try to ‘help you get them’. Don’t let it be Lucio or Julian.. he’ll be furious.

If he acts like he’s happy to help and your LI disappears then he probably did or didn’t send them somewhere where neither of you two can meet again. Like a portal to a dark cold place or something.

He’s like a snake.. or even a fox. He’s the magician for a reason.

Nadia

Nadia probably won’t even hide how much of a yandere she is.. okay maybe just a little.

She’s the countess, what does she need to hide? She’s also meant to be with you and you’re supposed to love her no matter what. Nadia seems to be a bit of an oblivious yandere. Not aware that what she does for you is rather scary at times.

She showers you in gifts. Some of the cutest clothes just to basically play dress up with you like your some little doll. She doesn’t like it when you turn down a gift and while there’s a couple times she’ll get frustrated in the end she’ll send the gift to you late at night with a sweet not hoping you take it.

While she usually ask for your input against other’s, when it comes to someone who isn’t much use to the palace or her especially sniffing up on you she’ll usually deal with them.. whether banishing them and having them get hunted down throughout the forest like some sort of game.

She can be ruthless, and when she’s really in a bad mood it’s hard for her to listen to anyone. Don’t beg for her not to kill off someone because she most likely will act you didn’t say anything, kiss your forehead, and will proceed with the execution.

Also gets really touchy with you when her sisters are around..

Portia

Portia is usually a very carefree chick but while she can be easygoing she can be rather on guard about you.

It’s not often with you, because she doesn’t want you to know the bad things she’d do for you, but every once in a while she’ll ‘joke’ about killing for you. She’s caring and always makes sure you’re safe so you don’t question it until she actually does it when you have a suspicion that she did it..

Will cry and manipulate you into believing she’s innocent because seeing fear on your face towards her makes her scared. She was just doing what was ‘right’, of course her terminology of right is different from yours tho.. that’s why she lies about not doing it.

You’ll trust her and while you’re still a bit nervous she’ll work on that making sure to check up on you often. Once she gains your trusts back again she grows to be a lot more sneaky.

Rat poison is probably what slipped into the man’s tea after her kept messing with you but who knows?

Julian

Julian can be much like his sister but instead of growing emotional to defend himself he grows serious. It’s so different from his usually jokingly self and reminds you of the red plague times so you can’t help but apologize for accusing him.

He may not have killed Lucio but he’s definitely took a couple people out for you. Most unintentionally but still did it anyway. That guy couldn’t swim and Julian simply didn’t hear him crying for help.. it’s okay though cause you did say he had a weird vibe about him anyway, obviously Julian agreed.

He can be clingy, needy, and touchy. If you don’t know about the yandere in him you love it and you loving it just manages to feed it more. If you do know about it and you’re scared he uses his touches to try and calm you down. To have you let your guard down.

He’ll use his self hate against you for many different reasons now. While he does hate himself he found that you usually encourage him or try to make him feel better after he talks about himself too much. He’ll use it on you to stop you from running away from him because your morals are far better than his at this point and he knows you’ll stay to try and help him.

When you find out that he’s been killing people you’re terrified and even though you know you should runaway and leave.. you also can’t help but want to help him.

What if he’s actually innocent like he was with Lucio? (Definitely not.) What if the depression got so bad and he couldn’t help himself? He needed help and only you could help him.

He’ll chuckle sometimes at how cute and silly you are. With how he is he knows you won’t be going anywhere and he’s perfectly fine with that because had you did think of running away he’d just chase you down and use he’s depression against you to make you feel bad for leaving and to bring you back to him.

Lucio

The coliseum was made for a reason... Lucio likes a good fight and anyone touching you, speaking with you, or even looking at you can make him want to have one.

If it isn’t a physical fight it’s a fight with words (which he isn’t that good at but his smugness makes it pay off)

He’s a hopeless romantic type of yandere and unlike his wife he actually doesn’t recognize or acknowledge the bad sides of himself. He either doesn’t to face them or actually thinks cutting that servants throat for huffing in your presence was justified.

You honestly can’t tell but hey, you’re scared. He’s a Count though... THE Count.. if he’s your yandere it’s going to be hard to get away from him without getting hunted down. He’ll make sure to keep an eye on you. (much like Nadia)

He’ll lock down the whole palace if it means keeping you in place. If you do manage to escape he’ll be highly impressed honestly before he’s goes hunting you down. When he finds you he’ll make sure the palace is locked down a lot tighter then it has been before.

Muriel

He definitely starts out as a silent stalker type. Muriel isn’t really attracted to anyone before you and even though he is interested in you he makes you come to him.

I believe he’s actually one of the nicer yanderes but he does have his moments of being possessive.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone unless it’s absolutely needed.. wouldn’t want to kill anyone for something silly.. of course not.

Ok! I’m at the courtiers! Now these ones might be sadder because I have a lot of headcanons for them. Mainly the horsemen and I do believe Valerius doesn’t have much story on him either so yeah.

Volta

Volta’s an absolute sweetheart. Tis is all.

Nah I’m fucking with y’all, it’s a yandere post.. anyway while Volta is a sweetheart she can’t help but be a bit possessive over you. Unlike the other courtiers her emotions come out a lot more and with her past she never thought she find someone like you.

Now that she has though it’s hard to separate the two of you..

She clings to you, cry for you when you’re gone for too long, feeds you if she’s really into you..

People don’t really see her as a threat and that’s only until she threatens to eat them.. when she gets like that people make sure to leave you be because the really aren’t sure if Volta will actually do it but with that bright playful but warning look in her eyes they don’t want to put it past her.

Vlastomil

Vlastomil kinda has that same oblivious energy in him as Lucio or Nadia however it may seem like he doesn’t know what he’s doing is wrong but he really does.

He’s a demon, he knows how to play with humans but the thing is what he does is just him trying to understand himself better. Before you he only cared about his worm and now you were here.

He pretty much treats you like he treats Wriggler.. you’re very dear to him and let anything happen to you he’ll make sure everyone around knows how he feels. Whether it’s crying, shouting or simply anxiously looking for you.

He fears with other humans you’ll either get taken from him or get hurt but them and neither one of those are things he’s ok with obviously.

He’s a tricky demon, he may trick you into believing his morals verses your own.

“I love you dear! That’s why he has to go.. you don’t want him to hurt you yes?” He’ll manage to make you believe that everything he does is for you. If you have any sort of trauma he might even use that against you so be extra careful.

Valerius

I can see Valerius being much like Muriel but worse. He likes to stalk and watch you from afar until he can figure what’s the best route to take and going about getting to you.

He’s almost relieved you come to him first. The relationship is rather.. bumpy. At times he’ll be grumpy for no reason and sometimes you can get tired of that but anytime you threaten to leave him he gets you into bed a second faster and distracts you.

I can see him either being a good or bad yandere.. there’s no in between. Either he knows exactly how to keep you to himself or he struggles doing so which only frustrates you. You can say he takes some of that frustration out on you but he tries not to because the last thing he needs in to tell Lucio you ran off and have a bunch of guards chase you down.

Oh that’s right, Lucio helps him when it comes to reeling you in and keeping you their. It’s scary but how are yo to go against the Count and his Consul?

Valerius might say some really cruel things to you to make you stay. He doesn’t want to even think about you leaving him. The second he saw you was the same second he fell for you. He might question his own emotions a lot but after a while of simply stalking or having other people stalk you and report back to him, he can tell it is you that he wants.

Vulgora

Vulgora is one of the bad ones you can get. Their aggressiveness and bluntness can be scary so when you need to escape them not many will be willing to help you. Many might even be on their side out of fear of what the war demon can do.

I feel like Vulgora is one of these two yandere types if not both.

Either the type that uses anger as a way to express themselves even if they don’t want to. Like, they care very deeply about you but they are one of the courtiers who don’t understand these emotions.. it frustrates them to not understand and it makes them angry. They try not to take that anger out on you and usually ends it with taking the life of a mortal.. or a couple considering one isn’t enough.

The other type is the yandere who can’t hold their temper and simply wants you because they can have you. It’s a possessive thing.. no one can have you but them.

They won’t hesitate in killing for you and if you ask or grow scared they would try to say they didn’t do it. They’ll be honest. What are you going to do about it.. fight them? Leave them? Oh darling they believe you’re too smart to do something stupid like either one of those..

They’ll leave their mark on you, usually biting because even if there’s very few beings with teeth like theirs in the palace everyone know the deep marks belong to someone dangerous and usually people put a distance with you.

People might be scared of you for simply being trapped and stuck with them. Poor thing..

Valdemar

Go ahead and just pass away sis, we ain’t making it away from this one..

In all honesty Valdemar might be the worse yandere out of this group. Vulgora following after as well as Lucio, Vlastomil, and maybe Julian..

Now it’s either they don’t care about your feelings at all and well make sure you know it or they care far too much to let you out of their sight. Valdemar might be persistent to test on you and might do it even if you don’t want to but also they might grow worried about your safety if they do do it.

You’re like their precious little specimen and no matter what you do they are always watching. You can’t even escape them after death because they are death. There’s simply no escape.

It’s been centuries since they’ve felt as strongly for someone as they did you and that person didn’t make it to where they are now.. they refuse to let that happen again..

If you try to run from them they’ll have beings chase you, they’ll make you run for your life and when you come crying for help they’ll cackle in your face. They want you to know you can’t live without them and once that’s drilled into your head they’ll never allow you to ever get away.

[rsitb-second-account]

The Thing About Guardian Angels~ Chapter 2

Previous /// next

Since I’ve decided that Logan is God in this au, I’m making it intrulogical (but in a QPR). How did they get together? I guess we’ll never know, or maybe we will. I might write a one shot about it, but don’t expect anything.

Virgil is just happy to see Patton and Patton is happy to see him. The humans are confused. Some other things happen and- well, you’ll see.. :)

Remember! If you like the story, Please Reblog!

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Virgil had managed to convince Janus early on in the whole thing that he was one of those cats that needed daily walks, like dogs. With a bit of magic, he was able to get out of the harness easily, which was a crucial element to his and Patton’s plan. As the tall human readied the harness, Virgil sent a quick message to his wonderful significant other “soon” He said, as ominously as he could, earning a giggle from Patton.

“C’mon Virgil, you gonna co-operate today? Hmm?” Janus baby-talked, fastening the harness and the leash and leading Virgil towards the door, to which the angel happily complied, wanting to see Patton again. Janus was evidently confused at the compliance, not used to Virgil doing what he was supposed to.

“okaay... then...?” He spoke, seemingly to himself, leading Virgil towards the door. The black cat ran towards the outside, meowing impatiently at the human. 

As Janus started walking towards a large field, Virgil readied himself to see his boyfriend and lead their humans together. Once they got to a spot that he knew Patton would be able to get to with Roman following, Virgil messaged Patton with one word; “Now” and slipping out of his harness and running to a spot that only a cat or two could fit into, and waited

———————————————————————-

Patton was waiting for the signal, waiting for that crucial moment that meant he could see Virgil again. Oh, and help the humans, I guess, but mostly the Virgil thing. He heard the signal and immediately ran out of the house, making sure Roman was following, though not close enough to stop him. 

He ran towards the black cat excitedly before shouting Virgil’s name (after making sure he was, in fact, speaking cat and not human. He had made that mistake before..)  “VIRGIL!!! I’m so happy to see you! Look! Our plan worked!! See they’re talking to each other!! We should probably get out of here, but then our humans might leave and then we won’t see each other, but oh my goodness the plan worked!! Look look look look!!” Patton rambled excitedly, starting to cuddle against his boyfriend, who just chuckled.

“Yes, Patton, the plan’s working, now lets listen to what they’re saying, so we can determine whether we need to get Remus to help, or if we can do it from here” Virgil laughed also cuddling into Patton in return whilst the humans talked

———————————————————————-

Janus sighed, trying to coax Virgil out from under the wall, when a fluffy white cat ran up and also went under the wall. Well that probably wouldn’t be good, Virgil was known to fight everyone, human or cat alike. A good looking man ran up behind the fluffy cat. “Excuse me, my cat just ran under there, can you help?” He asked Janus

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been trying to get my own cat out from under there for the past two minutes” He stared apologetically at the stranger “What’s your name? I’m Janus, and my cat is named Virgil” He held out his hand in greeting, feeling like he should talk to this guy more

“Oh, I’m Roman, and, uh, my cat is, um, my cat is Patton” He said, obviously distracted by something on Janus’ face. ‘Your scars’ his mind taunted ‘he’s looking at your scars’ The tall man decided to ignore the staring, he might not have been staring at the scars after all, and instead crouched down to try see the cats.

Well that was new.. Why was Virgil cuddling with this new cat? Virgil hated physical affection... and other cats..

“Can you see them? Janus, was it? Anyway can you see Patton? Is he okay??” Roman asked, voice laced with concern for his pet cat

———————————————————————-

“Both of our cats seem to be cuddling.. I half expected them to get in a fight, Virgil doesn’t tend to enjoy the company of other cats.. or humans, even”

“Oh, so you just knew that your cat was aggressive, and didn’t tell me? What would’ve happened if it didn’t end well?” Roman asked accusingly, causing Janus to sigh. Roman couldn’t help but become entranced by his eyes once again. The light brown, swirled with yellow, making them look gold when the sun hit them right, he almost forgot his anger from the beauty of it. Unfortunately, Janus seemed to think he was staring at something else

“Hey, can you not stare at my scars? I get it, they’re ugly, but you don’t have to stare at them. Or didn’t your mother ever tell you not to be rude?” He snapped, those beautiful eyes now glaring intently, that golden hue now intimidating instead of entrancing, the gorgeous browns now focused entirely on him, though not in the way he would’ve wished.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t-” He stammered, only to get cut off

“Save it, I don’t want to listen to bullshit excuses. I’m only here for my cat, and then I’m leaving, okay?” Janus reached under the wall and not-so-gently pulled Virgil out, ignoring the frantic meowing coming from both cats at the action. 

Roman could swear he could see blood on Janus’ arm from the cat’s claws, and he hated everything. He hated how easy he fell in love, he hated how bad he was at communicating, he hated that he snapped first, he hated that he would probably never see this guy again, and the only memory he would have was messing everything up. He hated himself.

———————————————————————-

Virgil was harshly pulled from his cuddles with Patton. A quick thought reading of both humans revealed what went wrong. It was all a big misunderstanding that was caused by the plan he created. He was really bad at this. He heard Patton’s voice “Well that could’ve gone better..” he sounded near tears, and Virgil could understand why; this was both of their first missions. Logan had finally trusted them enough to give them a mission, and they were screwing it all up. They had been friends with Logan for two centuries, but they still needed to be good enough to be given humans to care for, and Virgil wondered if he really was good enough. 

At the moment, it really didn’t seem like it. Patton seemingly noticed his mood and tried to cheer him up “hey, it’s not over yet. We can see Remus whilst he’s asleep, and ask him to help us. He keeps saying that he’ll help if it’s to do with his brother, and this is definitely to do with Roman, right? So we have the back up plan remember?”

Virgil took a shaky breath (he found it really weird to breathe, why was it so hard?) and agreed “O-okay, we’ll see him tonight, if he even goes to sleep that is..”

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:) Please reblog!

Tag list: @icantthinkofacreativeurl @vann-cat @moonfrost-star-comics

[ill-skillsgard]

Bred For Blood - Part 19 - Promise-Promise

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of coma/unconsciousness, injuries, and sex in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Sooo many feelings in this part, you guys. Next part will be the finale! My gosh, it’s actually coming. Stick around because it’s gonna be a doozy! Much love to all the readers who’ve waited patiently and shout out to any new readers who’ve taken the time to let me know their thoughts. I appreciate all the comments and reblogs forever! With that being said, please comment and reblog. It’d really make my day. XO

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Zed waited for Vee next to the window overlooking the vast green ocean of vegetation. The sliver of sun painted the sky aflush, rolling west in shades of violet. Pinprick stars perforated the melting spectrum, and the phantom moon showed its impatient face fully before the horizon swallowed all light. It was a soothing array of scenery, and Zed rested her head on the glass until footsteps drew her attention to the door. She smiled as Vee came in carrying a plate of zucchini fritters and mashed chickpeas, returning the warm greeting silently.

"Hungry? Axel wasn't a fan. He wants a cheeseburger from McDonald's," said Vee, handing the platter to Zed.

She accepted the dish with a nod. "Did you tell him why that's not possible?"

Vee sighed. The dark beneath his eyes seemed permanent now. "I didn't get into detail. He wouldn't understand."

"Shouldn't we make him understand?"

"It's too soon. The big lug just woke up. It was a challenge just to get him to lie there. Soon he'll want to leave the lab, and I don't know how he'll fare around his adoring fans."

Zed bit into a greasy fritter and scooped a dollop of the paste with the leftover crescent. "He'll love the ego-boost, I'm sure."

"That's what I'm afraid of. All those people will confuse him. Who knows what that might do to his head. We're in a delicate situation."

"Axel seems to like me. Maybe I can convince him to stay put."

Vee grimaced from the thought of Axel working Zed over with his motoring mouth and crass sense of humour. The scientist had grown accustomed to nights alone with her, cooking together and discussing their future. The night they'd spent alone in the greenhouse rang in his heart; the night he admitted his feelings and begged her to squash them. The thought of her alone with Axel picked a scab he didn't know he had.

"You're worried about something," Zed said.

Vee snapped from his bittersweet reverie and sighed. "Am I ever not worrying?"

"True," Zed snorted. "Now, eat. I can't finish this all myself."

The pair finished the plate before Vee set the dish aside and motioned her to the sofa.

"We need to talk about what we found in Glott's notes. I know we can't test this theory, but we should treat it as the truth," said Vee.

"Okay, well, if that's how we're approaching this D negative blood sample... What's the next step? We have no medical supplies. I checked the med tent in the courtyard for the third time just for fun."

"Then we have to visit Glott and get some answers. And by we... I mean me."

"Valter—"

"I know you don't want me to leave, but what other option do we have? Every day we waste here is another step backward."

Zed shook her head until a thin braid dislodged from behind her ear and swung in her face. Vee resisted the urge to tuck it back. The girl's face swivelled toward the window, and she pondered and watched the premature stars twinkle across the bruised sky.

"We go together," Zed said firmly. "I won't budge on that."

"And what about Axel?"

"We wait until he's better. We'll need him to navigate the way."

"And if he never recovers?" Vee asked.

"Then we go anyway. All three of us. We get Axel better, and we go together."

Vee inhaled through his nose as Zed screwed her eyes into his. When he nodded, a smile unfurled across her face, shadowed by the last drops of brassy sunlight.

"I hate this plan, but I suppose it's all we have," said Vee.

"Promise we'll all stick together."

"Of course, Lea. I won't leave without you guys. Promise."

"Promise-promise?"

"I double promise with a cherry on top. Stick a needle in my eye and call it macaroni."

Zed stifled laughter beneath her palm. "I think you've been hanging out with Sam too much."

"That, or I'm just tired."

"I'll let you sleep now. You look beat."

Vee twisted his mouth in lopsided agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna hit the shower first. Unless you want to?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll stay here a little longer," Zed said as she laid her temple against the cool glass and looked out over the forest floor, now drowning in the twilight.

~*~

In the morning, Zed left the apartment and padded down the hallway in her mismatched slippers. She slowed as she turned the corner and found the brothers talking. Axel's eyebrows were locked in a line, and Vee looked up at her with relief.

"Lea, can you help me explain to Axel why he can't leave the hospital room?"

Axel whipped the covers off his thighs. "This place is fuckin' weird, and I know you're lying to me. That doctor you had in here is a whack-job. Something isn't adding up."

"Stay put," Vee commanded.

Zed rubbed the sleep from her eyes and prepared to take both sides with a long breath. "Axel, your brother is right. You can't leave yet. Just stay a little longer and heal."

"Where the fuck am I, Vee? This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to. And why can't I use the phone to call mom and dad?"

Axel's question erased all the sleep Vee had gotten the night before. His fatigue was contagious. Zed approached the bed and brushed Axel's shoulder. The touch diffused the tension in his upper body and opened him up to a new explanation, one that hadn't come from his kid brother's mouth.

"There are no phones here, Axel. You're right... This place is different. We're missing a lot of things you’d consider normal."

"Look, darlin', I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but none of what you're saying makes any sense. What do you mean there's no phone? There's electricity, isn't there? So why can't I hobble my way to a pay phone or borrow someone's cell?"

Vee and Zed exchanged pained looks. The younger brother kneaded his brow and offered Axel the same explanation he had before, reworded. Axel refused to believe a word and scrambled off the gurney, throwing Vee's hands off him as he limped a few steps and realized his mistake.

"What the fuck is wrong with my foot? Did someone sliced my ankle in half? What is happening to me? I feel like I'm on an acid trip that never ends. I go to sleep and see crazy shit, only to wake up in an even crazier place where there're no phones and no fucking food! You're talking in goddamn riddles, Vee. The least you can do is get me a Baconator for my trouble! I can't walk—I can't even jerk off 'cause my good hand is fucked. You gotta help me out."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Axe? There are no restaurants!"

"Bullshit! Sweetheart, come on, you can help me, right? Can you please just grab me something greasy? I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm good for it."

"I wish I could help you, Axel, but Vee's right. There's nowhere to get stuff like that anymore."

"Anymore? What does that even mean? You guys are talking like I slept through the apocalypse or something!"

Zed turned to Vee, who blocked the way to the courtyard. "Come on, Axe. Just settle down, and get back into bed."

"Are you gonna find me some painkillers then?" Axel faltered toward the bed and hoisted himself onto the flat mattress with his right arm.

"I'll see what I can do, buddy, but will you promise to stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever," Axel scoffed. "What else am I gonna do?"

Zed waited until Axel slid back under the covers and tilted his face away from them both to assess Vee's mood. She suspected Axel's recovery would be difficult. Still, when she pictured him with his eyes open again, she heard laughter and saw game nights, shared wine and inside jokes knitting them closer together—not disarray and a friend who'd forgotten her. And if Vee had left the day he championed himself, Axel wouldn't have any flagship of his past. The scientist's presence tranquillized her despite Axel's rotten mood fouling the atmosphere.

"You're hungry, Axel?" Zed asked.

"Starving."

"I'll try to track down something tasty to eat. It won't be a greasy burger, but maybe I can find you something close to fries. I'll make it myself if I have to."

Axel flipped his eyes to the girl standing with her arms knotted behind her back and smiled. "Oh, darlin'...You're a sweet thing. I'd hate to ask, so I'll just accept the offer. Or maybe Vee can go, and you and I can chat a little more?"

Zed chuckled at the man's slyness. "I have some other things to do. We’ll talk when I get back."

"Don't rush for me, honey, but if you do, I'll take it as a good sign," Axel said with a wink.

At the cost of one of her knit blankets, Zed found someone in Athena to chop and bake a sweet potato in peanut oil. She bartered for garlic and salt to sprinkle on the dish. The redheaded child spotted her making transactions and stopped her at the mouth of the Hives with a cloth of fermented cashew cheese and a large chunk of bread that sat out overnight but was still soft. She offered the foodstuffs to Axel on a thin wood slab, and he accepted with an obsequious grin. He relinquished his dissatisfaction and warmed next to Zed.

"Aw, darlin', look at you go. How can I thank you for your trouble?" Axel asked as he chomped a crispy strand of sweet potato.

Zed stepped back from his bed, blushing. "It's okay, Axel. You don't have to do anything but get better."

"Will you stay with me for a while? If I have to stay in bed, it'd really make my life easier if I have someone to talk to. That is if you don't mind my chattiness."

"Sure. Let me grab a chair from the apartment," said Zed.

Axel finished his meal quickly, and as if he hadn't eaten at all, felt the pang of hunger moments after the last bite of bread. His appetite woke up ravenous, and no amount of homegrown food could satiate the growl.

"I might need to eat again in an hour," Axel informed as Zed dragged the chair across the floor. “I’m a big boy, you know.”

"That's fine. I'll find you something in a little while ."

The injured man nodded and sighed, eyelashes fluttering over tired green eyes. A bloated silence proceeded, and Zed wondered how to initiate a conversation. Vee told her not to confuse Axel with present-day news, but all she wanted to do was ask about Richard Glott's underground bunker and with who he'd crossed paths that left him slashed and maimed.

After a couple of deep breaths, Axel murmured, "I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep. Is that strange?"

Zed hid her shy smile behind her palm. "Oh, stop."

Axel shimmied his torso higher on the bed and frowned in pain. "No, seriously. Not trying to be slick, honey. I see the most fucked up things when I sleep. You know the kind of dreams so vivid, you wake up and your heart’s pounding, thinking it's all real for a minute? Then you're like... No way."

Zed shifted closer to Axel's bed. "What do you dream about?"

Axel smiled to himself. "You, mostly... Us. You and me doing crazy shit together. Sometimes I'm in the desert, and I see this airplane in the distance. It's on the ground, and I ride toward it, you know, you're not gonna ignore a crashed plane, right? Then I find you there, but these guys are hurting you, and you're going nuts trying to shake 'em, but there's too many, so I shoot 'em all, and they melt like popsicles. You stab one good, though."

"What else?" Zed asked.

"I dunno... Sometimes it's just me and you cruising through the desert, and I get the feeling you hate me, but I kinda like it. I'm happy you're there, even though we're in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next."

"Sounds like some pretty weird dreams."

"They're so lucid. It's like a movie, and I'm the main character, and you're... Well, you. Like my cool sidekick."

"Sidekick, huh?" Zed scoffed.

"Yeah, you have this air about you that's like not to be fucked with. Then things always get real dark. I don't even want to tell you about it 'cause you'll think I'm fucked in the head."

Zed knew this part of the story and lowered her eyes to the floor. "It's okay. You can tell me if you want. It's just dreams, right?"

"Nah, I'll just leave it at that. It's not sex stuff or anything if you're wondering."

"Your dreams are more entertaining than anything I have going on today."

With Zed's green light, Axel inhaled deeply before launching into the story of their past. Before he uttered another syllable, a severed connection sparked in his head. His eyes grew large, and he looked around the makeshift hospital room, awestruck.

"In my dreams, we're trying to get to Vee. He needs us for some reason."

"What does he need?"

"Some science shit, which makes total sense because he's a scientist. He's actually a scientist, and not just in my dreams."

"Axel... These dreams you've had... Do you think they have significance?" Zed asked carefully.

"Totally. They have to. Right? Or am I fucking crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Axel. I promise."

"But what if I am? This place... I get such a bad feeling when I'm awake in this room by myself. Vee won't tell me where we are. It's like he's hiding something, and he never lies to me about anything. We don't do that."

"Vee just wants you to get better. He's under a lot of stress, and your recovery is a big part of that. We didn't think—he didn't think you'd make it through. Another complication is the last thing you guys need."

Axel went quiet again and fixated on the dust motes and bolts of lightning crackling up his leg. A storm grew behind his eyes, the same torrents Zed saw when she tried to stop him from leaving Kinderfeld and her behind. Sickened by the thought of Axel sneaking off, she touched his arm and offered a warm smile.

"Talk to me, Axel. Please. Don't keep anything inside."

Axel glanced at her small hand on his tattooed bicep and the lightning in his body faded.

"We were friends in a past life," Axel claimed.

"We're friends in this life."

"Can I tell you one other thing, then I promise I'll stop talking about my bonkers dreams?"

"Yes. I don't mind at all."

Axel curled his bicep and touched Zed's fingers, feeling the motion out until she grasped his hand.

"I think I have to take you somewhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Zed giggled. "And where's that?"

Axel blushed for the first time and brought her hand to hold next to him on the bed. "Not like on a date or anything. I just get this feeling that I'm supposed to protect you, even though you seem capable of looking after yourself just fine. This dream voice keeps reminding me to stay with you and Vee... Like I'm not allowed to let either of you out of my sight. Especially not you."

"Then don't," Zed said.

He squeezed her fingers gently. "I won't."

~*~

Word of Axel's consciousness seeped out of the lab and into the village. Nobody knew who had made the discovery—Vee blamed Samson while Zed suspected Nalani, who'd waltzed by the lab doors at a suspiciously slow pace several times each day—and leaked the information. They barred visitors and only allowed the doctor in to help change Axel's bandages until Ivar arrived.

Axel was alone, humming a tune from his teenage years when the king came through the doors and stopped to stare at his bed-ridden friend.

"Zee, you're awake? And no one thought to tell me?"

"Sorry, hombre, but I think you have the wrong room. Name's Axel."

Ivar flashed all his sharp teeth in a sly smile and wagged his finger. "Always a joker."

"No, really," Axel chuckled, then went deadpan. "Wait... Who are you?"

Before Ivar spoke, Vee walked into the lab and froze when he saw Ivar standing a few feet from Axel's bed.

"Ivar. I wasn't expecting you."

The king sneered and motioned toward Axel. "What's with this guy?"

"Hey, maybe we can talk for a second?" Vee invited Ivar down the hall, out of earshot.

Ivar glared at the scientist. "When exactly were you planning on telling me he woke up?"

"That's the thing, Ivar. You don't understand... Axel's suffering from amnesia. It's common for coma patients to lose parts of their memory. Right now, he's in a very touchy state. He has no idea where he is, who you are, or what any of this is. I've tried to keep people away from him to avoid confusion, but now everybody knows. It's not good for him. Subjecting him to all this new information can cause anxiety, panic... Who knows. We're trying to ease him back into life."

"What do you mean he doesn't know who I am? I'm his best friend."

"Trust me. Axel doesn't even remember serving in the army."

"That's crazy. We should tell him—"

"No. It's too big of a shock. Axel's already gone through hell. Imagine trying to explain our world to somebody who has virtually no idea what's happened in the last couple of years."

Ivar pondered and didn't respond to Vee's relief, then sighed as though he accepted the explanation.

"So what does this mean for you? I assume you're retracting your claim and staying in Kinderfeld?"

Vee twisted his mouth to the side. "How can I go now?"

"You volunteered."

"That was before Axel came home. He needs me. I'm the only person he recognizes. Give me some more time with him, get him back on his feet and see if he'll start remembering, then I'll go."

Ivar crossed his arms across his burly chest. "Who knows how long that might take?"

"Would you leave someone you loved in that state?"

"I'd do what's for the greater good."

"He's your best friend. He's my brother. Axel needs us right now, Ivar. Think of all he's done for us. We owe it to take care of him until he's fit to at least walk again. I need him to remember what happened so I can get a better idea of what's going on outside."

"I suppose you're right," Ivar conceded. "You can't go out blind by yourself."

"Yes, you're right," Vee said with great relief.

"So what now? I can't talk to him?"

"You can speak to him if you like, but try not to bring up things that might confuse him. Don't talk about the army or mention recent times."

Ivar looked over his shoulder at the apartment's open door and heard the muted humming of a girl filtering through the corridor.

"And how's Lea taking all of this?"

Vee stiffened. "She's helping out."

"Axel has no idea who she is? He really doesn't know what's happened?"

"Not that I can tell. He keeps asking for cheeseburgers and to call our parents."

"Wow," Ivar whispered.

"Yeah, it's hard."

Ivar went quiet, distant, and shook his head slowly before inhaling through his nose and squeezing Vee's shoulder. "I trust you, brother. Maybe we'll talk more about your expedition in a few days when things have a chance to settle with Axel."

"You got it."

Axel pretended he wasn't trying to listen to the conversation between his brother and the brown-haired man with the striking blue eyes when the pair returned. Ivar nodded at Axel, his eyes awash with sympathy for the indisposed man.

"How are you feeling, Axel?"

"A little on the shitty side, my man. Not gonna lie. Hands busted, foot's bum... Can't fuck my way to a decent meal in this place, and everyone's tiptoeing around like I'm a sleeping baby. Gotta say I've had better days."

"Well, I hope you heal up quick. There are a lot of people who want to see you."

A coy smirk unfurled over Axel's face. "Yeah, I kinda get that impression. Sometimes, I see people looking in through those doors. I feel like a panda at a zoo. Everyone wants a peek at little ol’ Axel, huh?"

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Cheeseburger?" Axel asked hopefully.

"Would if I could, friend."

"Goddamn it," Axel lamented.

Vee widened his eyes when Ivar looked at him, confirming what they'd discussed in the hallway.

"Say, how do you stay so beefy if there's no meat in this place?" Axel asked Ivar.

"I get my protein where I can. Try to stay fit. I'll get someone to bring you something good to eat."

Axel snorted. "Yeah, that's what that sweet-lookin' one said, but everything tastes like tree bark. No offence to her. She tried her best, and I'd never insult a lady's cooking to her face."

Ivar sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you, Axel. Get better soon."

Vee held his breath until Ivar left the lab and shrunk once the doors closed.

"You sure have a way with words, don't you?"

"Everyone who walks in here acts like they know me."

"We might have to move you to the apartment. Put a cap on your visitors."

"Who was that?" Axel asked.

"That's Ivar Lothbrok. He kinda runs things, in a sense."

"Nice guy."

Vee scoffed. "Yeah. Nice."

An itch stuck in the back of Axel's head, and he grew quiet once again, trying to unravel the mystery he'd woken up inside. He was a figure in a snow globe, a permanent fixture in a landscape rife with faces he'd seen in dreams. Sitting up in his bed, Axel wondered what laid beyond the confines of his glasshouse. Never one to follow the rules, even under the firm guidance of his smart younger brother, Axel decided once everyone fell asleep, he'd find himself a walking post and go exploring.

~*~

Zed woke to the sound of Vee's soft snoring coming through the open door of his bedroom. The possibility of sleep retracted with every second she spent staring at the smooth, globular ceiling in the dark, trying to make shapes out of the dream residue behind her eyelids. The sofa stiffened her back, and she twisted her spine until air bubbles popped and her muscles strained from the motion. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut for a few minutes, but Axel's stories followed her from sleep, brushing up on her with sharp quills. Since Axel painted his dream world, she hadn't stopped thinking of him and mourning the loss of his memory for the both of them. Axel didn't know his missing pieces were dancing under his eyes each time he slumbered, and she longed to stitch them together to create the full picture.

She squinted into the darkness, fatigue long since faded, and left the apartment. Light on her bare feet, Zed padded down the hallway and turned the corner to find an empty bed. Her heart twinged from Axel's absence. She considered going back to the apartment to tell Vee his brother was missing but found herself propelled to seek Axel out herself. There was nowhere in the lab a man of Axel's stature could hide, so she went out to the courtyard to begin her search. The floodlights cast pyramids of light over the foothills but revealed nothing but stone paths and glittering grass ranks. She started left first, then changed her mind and shot right toward the warehouse. Zed minded her steps as she picked up a jog, extending her legs to clear the roiling yards until she reached the square entrance of the warehouse. A guard leaned against the steel wall next to the exit, blinking and wiping a hand over his face to rouse himself. He saw Zed across the cement expanse and stood up straight.

"What're you doing out here?" The guard's voice clattered through the chamber.

"Sorry," Zed said, casting a thorough glance around before retreating into the light and shadow of the courtyard again. She rushed to the Hives, taking quick strides to reach her abandoned apartment before anyone else noticed her. After a quick knock, Zed opened the door to find her former living quarters as deserted as ever. Nobody had claimed the space in her absence, nor was Axel's adjoining apartment occupied. Both rooms were empty.

Zed's search for Axel continued and grew in urgency with each lonely cove and space she found. As she made her way around the central dome where the courtyard bordered the largest hill, she stopped at the mouth of the Chrysalis and addressed the men standing guard.

"Have either of you seen someone limping through here?"

"Nobody's come 'round here, Zed. Who're you looking for?"

Zed cocked her head. "Who do you think?"

"You mean Zee?" The man on the right asked. "Thought he was paralyzed."

"So it's true? He's awake?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not yet."

The bearded guard rose a dark eyebrow at Zed. He was one of Ivar's highest-ranking patrol. Zed recognized him from the night they'd brought in the Zeronaut captain, Monk. He often stood by wherever Ivar went and didn't talk much unless addressed. "Ivar know about this?"

"I don't know what Ivar knows. Vee communicates with him, but we're trying to keep this from the general public."

"What do you think, Fen? Should we tell Ivar?" The scrawny, clean-shaven guard asked.

Fen sneered and told his partner to close his mouth before angling his torso toward Zed. "We'll keep an eye out, petite fleur."

Zed nodded and continued on her way, but there were few more spots Axel could hide unless someone had intercepted him and invited him into their hovel. She thought of Nalani, who often wandered the courtyard at odd hours and Trinity, who adored Axel and might jump at the opportunity to lead him to a private alcove. The two of them shared living space in Athena. Zed wanted to keep the search party light, and asking around would only spread curiosity like wildfire.

She continued touring the courtyard, her naked soles sore from hurried walking. Finally, she stopped at the greenhouse gate, its series of coiling iron bars and metal flowers welded to the columns in intricate clusters. Zed lifted the latch and pushed the gate open, taking care to shut it quietly. The greenhouse where the citizens grew aloe and berries was the little-known getaway spot Axel and Vee coveted as their private paradise. Zed zigzagged through the raised beds, taking care not to trip over the irrigation hoses and climbed the wooden steps at the back of the third square house. Around another corner and through the thick blackberry bushes nestled in rectangles of sodden earth, Zed rushed to the spot under the sky where the light poured in but found nothing.

"Shit," she whispered, out of breath and reeling in the thick, tepid air.

Zed looked up to the cloudless velveteen sky, crushing disappointment wringing her heart. In a throng of shadow off to the right, a figure shifted and startled the woman backward.

A tired voice called her name.

The shady form lengthened, struggling to stand. Once it stood at its full height, the vice pressing Zed's chest disappeared. Axel hobbled into view, using the overhead pipes to help himself along.

"Axel! There you are. Oh my God, you had me so worried. Why did you leave the lab?"

"The lab? Is that where you've been keeping me?"

Zed clapped her palm over her mouth. Axel gave an elongated nod, eyes wide and accusatory.

"Is that what I am? Some kind of experiment?"

"No, Axel—"

"What are you and Vee doing? Tell me why he's keeping me locked up. Tell me where the fuck I am, Lea. Please. This place... Something about it seems wrong. It scares me."

Axel wilted against a plant bed as Zed approached and caught his elbow to keep him upright.

"Axel, don't be scared. Please, I promise you're safe. We're not trying to keep you captive. This is all difficult to explain, and you were asleep for so long parts of your memory are missing. Vee's only trying to make it easier for you to cope."

"Cope with what, Lea? Cope with the fact I'm a prisoner? That I can't sleep because my nightmares are so vivid, I feel like I'm dying? That people watch me like some sideshow freak?"

"Everything," Zed sighed. "The new world. How can we explain all this to someone who woke up in the past?"

Axel looked up through the skylights and whimpered. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

Zed, wounded from the dejection in her friend's voice, led Axel to sit on the floor, then sat next to him and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her cheek on the thin cotton shoulder strap of his tank top.

"I wish I could say you're wrong, but I can't lie to you, Axe."

"My instincts were right. Something is very wrong. After that Ivar fella came through, I started getting this feeling you all weren't telling me something on purpose."

"Don't be angry with us, Axel. We didn't know how to tell you."

Axel leaned his head on Zed's and sought her hand to hold. She slid her fingers through his and gripped tightly. "It's okay. I get it now. I'm supposed to be here. You and me... We're meant to be together. Otherwise... Why would I see you every time I close my eyes?"

"Axel," Zed whispered. "I missed you so much when you left. I thought I'd never see you again. Now everything is different."

"I'm sorry. If I hurt you back then... I didn't mean it."

"Just don't leave me again. Please. I can't fool myself into happiness without you in my life."

"I won't leave. I can't."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Lea."

"Promise-promise?"

Axel chuckled and kissed the top of Zed's head before laying his cheek on the ruts of her braids. "Yeah. I promise-promise."

~*~

Axel and Zed laid on the floorboards and watched the stars twinkling above while the chamber filled with water vapour, obscuring the glass until the condensation evaporated. When the infinite black sky lightened to meteorite violet, Axel used Zed as a crutch to stand up. He stole a fistful of blackberries, stuffing the fruits in his mouth and mashing them until inky juice seeped from the corners of his lips. He complained about his ankle, which he'd suffered walking on during his solo excursion to the greenhouses. Zed berated him for wandering off and helped him down the steps and through the rows of potato plants, arms locked, their pace slow to accommodate Axel's injury.

A murmur greeted the pair as they approached the iron gate. A dozen villagers gathered around the entrance to witness Axel emerge with smiles on their faces. Frozen from the elated faces beaming at him, Axel pulled on Zed's arm, alerting her to the hoard of onlookers.

"Who are they?" Axel asked.

"Zee! Happy you're awake!"

"What happened to your arm, Zee? Are you okay?"

"He looks terrible."

Zed opened the gate, and the crowd dented but didn't part. "Make room, please!"

"We want to talk to Zee!"

Axel then realized the group addressed him, their wide eyes drinking in his bruised and broken state with smiles unfitting his poor condition. An overwhelming sense of worry touched his skin, and he grabbed for Zed to lead him, but they huddled around the gate until a tall head of blond hair sliced the crowd in half. Vee shouldered past, his eyes hooded and brow furrowed.

"Axel! Lea! What the hell are you doing out here? Lea, did you let him out?"

Zed frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Of course not! I'm the one who came looking for him."

"Let's go. Come on, now. Everyone make way. Go back home!" Vee barked.

"We want answers! What's happening outside the walls?"

"We'll answer your questions later," Vee said disdainfully. "Lea, help me get him back."

The trio staggered to the lab, breathless from the trek over the bowing foothills. Vee waited until they were behind closed doors to deliver a speech about how irresponsible and defiant Axel was, how his behaviour might cause unwanted ripples where the scientist required placidity. Axel hoisted himself into bed and accepted his lecture, sullen and quiet, occasionally glancing at Zed, who also wrung her wrists.

"I told you not to leave the room, Axe. Why? Why can't you listen to me for once in your goddamn life?" Vee asked.

"You're not my mommy, Valter. I can do what I want, and frankly, I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me!"

"What are you on about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. You've lied to me this whole time! About where we are, what's happened to me. I think you know much more than you lead on."

Vee scoffed and looked to Zed for reassurance. The girl stood still with her shoulders hunched.

"Lea, help me out here."

"Well, Vee... Maybe it's time we tell him everything. There's no use hiding the truth anymore. He already knows something's wrong."

"Yeah!" Axel cried. "I'm done sitting around twiddling my thumbs. You have to tell me what's up. How did I get like this? What the fuck happened to me, and why can't I remember anything? I don't know how I got here or who all those people are out there."

"That's the thing, Axe... We don't know what happened to you. You left, and when you came back, you were unconscious and hurt. We don't leave this place, so I can't tell you anything more than that. I didn't know if you'd wake up and certainly didn't know you'd have amnesia when you did."

Axel turned to Zed for verification, and she nodded her head regretfully.

"It's true, Axel. I wish we could tell you more."

"Then at least tell me where I am. Start there," Axel demanded.

Vee and Zed stood speechless for a moment until she sighed deeply. "Vee, maybe we should give him the postcards and his journals."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're right, Lea. Go get the box. Tonight's gonna be a long one."

Zed hauled the box of postcards and dog-eared journals into the lab and hefted it onto the foot of Axel's bed. Vee unpinned the postcards from the corkboard and offered them to Axel with a pinched smile. Zed sat in her chair while Vee laid on the floor, a long arm slung over his eyes as Axel began to read aloud from his workbooks. The three of them listened to the stories Axel had penned years before while he was in the infantry as if none of them had heard the tales. From time to time, Axel stopped narrating and glided over the lines, taking in details he should have known, but couldn't place. During these silences, Zed and Vee would look up at him to assess his emotions, whether or not the words shifted the pieces into place or made any difference at all.

Axel took in a strained breath. "Ivar and I aren't talking. He wants to be the leader on this ship, and if things don't go his way, he turns into a giant douche-nozzle," he broke into giggling at his insult. "I haven't eaten in three days, and the water supply is low. We're down to a cup a day each. It's not enough, but it's gotten us through so far. One of the guys got sick, and they've taken him below deck. He throws up constantly even though there's nothing in his gut and howls all night in agony. I swear to God I'll shoot him in the head tomorrow if he doesn't let us sleep tonight. Someone needs to put him out of his misery."

Zed grimaced, and Vee stared at the ceiling with dry eyes, unflinching from the story.

"Day six... I now know what rat meat tastes like."

"Oh, god. Ew," Zed mumbled.

Axel continued without pause. "It's not that bad when you haven't eaten in almost a week. I've set up more traps in the galley to catch the rest. If Ivar plays his cards right, I might share my rats with him, but he's still a stuck-up twat.

I'm not sure how the rats are surviving. Maybe there's food still hidden somewhere on the ship. Maybe they're eating each other."

"This must have been when you were on your way back to America...Or... Whatever you want to call this half of the world now," Vee said.

"What do you mean?" Asked Axel.

"The Unity... The government... They abolished the borders, erased the country names and burned the history books. The states became part of the North-Western Hemisphere. Same with Canada and all that. No countries. No names."

Axel seemed to accept his brother's explanation that nothing would ever be as before. The commune in which he now resided was the only tangible place left in existence. Outside the walls lay sites changed from war, stripped of home and heritage. A tightness in Axel's neck prevented him from speaking until the revelations grew too heavy for him to bear.

"What happened to everyone else?" Axel asked.

"It's hard to say," Vee whispered, then cleared his throat. "A lot of people died."

"How many?"

"Billions," Zed said.

"You mean... We're the only ones left?"

"No, we're not. There are other survivors out there, people who were meant to live through the storms."

"Storms?"

Vee sighed, the farfetched nature of their fates exhausting him before he began. "The Unity developed a way to return the planet back to its natural state. No more electronic communication, no more broadcasts or satellites or TV. After the extinctions reached an all-time high, they introduced these plants that could suck the pollution from the air quickly. They grow extremely fast and are lethal to anyone who wasn't vaccinated against the spores. One plant can release a spore cloud big enough to cover half a football field, and they breed and multiply like vermin. Even a small cluster can kill a stadium of unimmunized people in a few minutes."

"But why would they do this? Have I been vaccinated?"

Axel's questions ripped holes in Vee’s composure. Zed's stomach churned and flipped as the scientist fished for the least aggressive explanation. A gloss came over his eyes, and he avoided his brother's bewildered stare.

"No, Axe. You're not."

"Oh... Are you?" Axel whispered.

"Yeah, I am. So is Lea."

"Why? Why didn't I get vaccinated?"

"You were lost at sea with your platoon for weeks, and before that, you were overseas. They didn't immunize the troops."

"Are you telling me the government wants us all to die?"

"Most of this is widely debated. There are some theories that the Unity had a strategy in mind."

Zed lent the scientist a hand and cut the heavy topic with a smile. "Axel, you're much more special than you know. Those people out there all adore you because of what you've done for Kinderfeld. You were the only one brave enough to go out when they needed supplies. People know your name not only here but out in the world. I've seen you fight and shoot. You're a natural."

"Well, yeah. I've been shooting guns since I was a kid."

"You were a special ops sniper. More than just a good shot."

Axel warmed to the compliment. "And what about you? Are you the mercenary of my dreams?"

Zed blushed and failed to hide her pride. "Not a mercenary... But I've murked a few Scavs in my day."

"Man... I like you," Axel tittered. "Ain't she great, Vee? What a prize."

For the few seconds of silence that passed, Vee's expression darkened. He recognized the reverence pulling Axel's features, the heartfelt way Lea relaxed when they spoke. Even in the absence of memory, Axel and Zed forged a bond too strong to pry apart. He would never wish ill upon his brother, but he mourned the days past with the woman whose eyes shone like vats of golden syrup passing under the morning light. At the risk of sharing a likeness with Ivar, the king who could never quite capture the woman's love, Vee thought of what life might have been like had Axel never returned. Would Zed love him? Could she? Had he ever toed the waters of her unspoken affection? Vee cursed his stupidity the night he told her how he felt and quickly dismantled his chances before she had the opportunity to consider him more than a close friend.

As Zed stared at Axel upright in his bed with his journals splayed out around him, Vee knew it was too late to rescind his platonic claim. A victim of his own sabotage, the scientist turned from them and pushed out every last ounce of breath to make room for another stale intake.

"I think it's time I showed Axel the Crimson Yawn."

Zed nodded and left the brothers, sensing a gloomy air rising between them. Vee was much better at explaining the inexplicable. He delivered news with a needed bluntness, one Zed had never mastered. Once she left the lab searching for distractions, Vee helped his brother box up the journals and offered his elbow to guide Axel back on his feet. Amid the bleak news, Axel had almost forgotten the pain in his extremities.

They waddled to the locked chambers where the bulk of Vee's scientific discoveries came to light. Axel squinted against the bright white walls and polished floor as he followed his brother through a series of doors leading to a clear dome similar to the greenhouses he'd found, only this hollow contained a twisted swarm of redheaded plants, mouths bloody and agape. Each one stood over seven feet tall and lifted its black-spotted maw to the sky in a silent scream. Axel turned from them.

"I've seen these before, but never this many. In my dreams, there's always one growing in a container."

"You recognize them?"

"And you say these things can kill me? How is it possible?" Axel asked.

"They're a sophisticated hybrid plant. They release spores like mushrooms, and those spores become airborne. If you breathe them in, they attack your blood, soaking up the nutrients and essentially turning it into a highly acidic jelly. You burn from the inside out. Well...Dissolve is a better word."

"And you've brought me here why!?" Axel shouted, dodging backward and planting too much weight on his bad ankle.

"Don't worry! They can't hurt you from in here. The filtration system's design protects everything inside."

"I still have a hard time believing all this. You know how crazy it sounds, right?"

Vee clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Oh, I realize. Why do you think it took me so long to break the news? You try finding a delicate way to explain this to someone who just came out of a coma."

Axel became transfixed on the plants again after Vee's assurance. He shuffled to the glass and studied the roaring heads, each one slightly different than its neighbour. They resembled demons, bizarre red monsters with thick necks and broad leaves of wax. Their spiked roots toiled in the ground, gnarled and tangled in a hellish orgy above and beneath the soil. Beyond the ranks, Axel saw the roiling jungle and all its hues of green and black. The sun broke through parts in the towering trees. How he longed to feel the wind on his burnt skin and walk among the flora. Axel observed the plants for a few minutes as Vee stepped back and allowed him time to digest.

"Am I in a nightmare?" Axel met his brother's eyes and did not blink.

"Some might say that. And I'm sorry. I've dedicated my life to making things better for the survivors, but there's nothing left I can do. All we have now is the village and each other."

"And mom and dad?"

"They're gone, Axe. They've been gone a while."

The tattooed man swallowed bitterly and nodded as a wall of tears blinded him. Vee touched his brother's shoulder and shared his pain through the comforting gesture. Axel crossed his chest with his good hand and patted Vee's fingers.

"Do you mind if I spend some time alone? This is... It's just a lot."

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Axe. I'll leave the doors unlocked. You good to walk?"

Axel's voice floated below a whisper. "I’ll manage."

~*~

In the apartment, Zed held her arms out before her and swung them in half-circles, stretching her muscles in preparation for another stiff night spent on the sofa. Vee came in after dinner and found Zed flinging her limbs outward.

"Nightly aerobics?" He asked with a touch of humour, the most he could muster after a day of harsh truths.

"Just stretching out before bed. My back's been killing me."

"Oh," Vee's green eyes popped open wide. "Don't sleep on the couch, Lea. You can take the bed tonight."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, really. I insist. You deserve a night without hanging off the edge of the cushions."

"Then where will you sleep?" She asked.

"The couch."

Zed laughed at the idea. "You're far too tall to fit comfortably."

"I've passed out there dozens of times. Don't worry about me, really. Take the bed."

"Why're you being so nice, huh?" Zed snorted.

"I've seen you in pain the last few days, and I feel bad. It's rude of me to have one of the biggest beds in this place when I don't do anything to deserve it."

"Oh, shush," Zed jested. "You've done more for this place than anyone."

"There's always the Chrysalis."

The good humour in the room vanished with Vee's maladroit suggestion. Zed shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not going to the Chrysalis. I want to stay here with you guys."

"Fine by me. You'll take the bed tonight then. Grab your blankets and go."

Zed and Vee swapped bedding and wished each other goodnight. Though she deemed herself undeserving of the luxury, when Zed crawled onto Vee's large bed and spread her limbs from corner to corner, her skin bristled with goosebumps. The scent of the sheets belonged to the man outside the room, sprawled on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm—cotton and boyish musk, the redolence Zed had grown accustomed to except in this moment. Lying on the mattress reminded her of the hugs and closeness she'd received from Vee when Axel had fled.

She relived their days together in clips of happy memories and some not so joyful. Across the apartment, Vee recalled the same night playing in Zed's mind—their evening in the greenhouse when they'd held hands, so close together yet barred by the promises of friendship. Vee cursed himself repeatedly while Zed entertained the idea of getting together with the scientist.

Soon, Zed's thoughts slid over the night she'd spent with Ivar. If she concentrated, she could feel the fullness between her legs still. Ivar had made love to her the way couples did in films. He'd stroked her and kissed her skin, took her nipples gently between his lips and sucked until she giggled. What might have excited some left her shivering. Was one of the brothers more deserving of her love? Was she foolish to think herself so desirable her attention was a coveted badge of excellence?

What a prize!

Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now.

It's like you were made for me.

With her heart racing, Zed turned over in bed and clamped her eyes shut. Debating which of the three men in her life she wanted more made her stomach flip, yet she couldn't keep the lewd considerations from pouring into her head. In these fantasies, she replaced Ivar with Vee. Yes, he was smart and gentle and keen on her, but he'd told her not to let him cross the line, claimed he didn't want her that way despite his feelings. Vee's kind face took the place of Ivar's, coasting down her stomach, stamping her thighs with kisses from luscious lips. She squeezed her legs together and let the inevitable shift knock Vee from the picture to make room for his older brother.

The tattooed man with all his addictions and his looming depression positioned himself between her knees and grasped her ankles delicately. A murderer and womanizer leaned over her body, caging her with long limbs decorated with sparrows, weapons, chains and barbed wire.

We're meant to be together. I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep.

Zed bit her lip when the phantom sensation invaded her. She knew not how Axel would moan or if he'd coo and sigh the way Ivar had when they had sex. She wanted very much to think Axel would treat her with respect and scorned the claims Trinity had made about his wild side. Then the obscene journal entries came to life, glowing, fanned by salacious visions. What if she didn't want to make love? What if she wanted to be taken hard and fast by a man who worshiped her? Guilt and arousal mixed in her chest and sat heavy, grinning evilly like a demon poised to possess her body.

Sleep wriggled through Zed's conjurations and pulled her under before she realized she was slipping into blackness. The cozy bed and Vee's sheets lulled her, and soon, she dreamed of ordinary things, forgetting her personal stash of pornographic thoughts. She slipped further as the moon made a lazy arc through the night sky until something touched her shoulder and jarred her from sleep with a sharp gasp.

Her scream ripped through the apartment, sending her waker toppling out of bed.

"Lea? Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

"Axel?"

In the dimness, neither of them saw each other but tasted each other's heavy breath. Soon the light snapped on, and Vee stood at the door, chest heaving.

"What the hell is going on?" Vee asked. "Axel? What're you doing?"

"Christ, I thought Zed was you. I just came to... Well, I couldn't sleep," Axel cringed. "Shit, my hand. Fuck, I landed like a sack of bricks."

Vee snickered, setting off a series of giggles. "You came to sleep in my bed?"

"I didn't mean to scare you, Lea."

"It's all right," said Zed. "Really. On any other night, it would have been Vee in here."

Axel pulled himself up by the elbows and sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing from the agony of his agitated wounds. "Sorry, guys. It's hard to sleep out there. People are watching me."

Zed scooted over and patted the part of the mattress warm from her body. "Come on. Lie down. I think we could all use a sleepover after the day we've had."

"You're not serious," Vee said with a scoff as his brother took up Zed's offer and laid down next to her.

Zed nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You too, Valter. Turn off the light and get over here."

He rolled his eyes as he flipped the light switch. "This is hardly a three-person bed."

"Well, cuddle up, pal."

"Lea takes up a fraction of the bed, anyway," Axel pointed out.

"Is this not weird to you? Three adults sharing a bed?"

Zed moved to the center as Vee climbed into bed from the left. To her right, Axel had already sprawled and turned over to face her in the dark.

"It's no stranger than how half the people in this place sleep all piled on top of each other. Humans were meant to nest. In the wild, this is how we'd sleep."

"Yeah, but we're not in the wild," said Vee.

"Yes, we are, little brother. Have you seen it outside? We're literally in glass bubbles, in the middle of a rainforest. Now shut up, and go to sleep."

"You shut up."

"Guys?" Zed chimed.

"Yeah?" The brothers answered.

"I love you both.”

Robbed of their voices, Axel and Vee set aside their bickering to bask in the genial haze of Zed's words. Axel shifted an inch closer while Vee laid stiffly on his side, eyes wide in the dark. As though her claim was bathed in wine, they soaked in the meaning and slipped drunkenly into slumber.

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Anniversary

Summary: Marrying Donaka Mark wasn’t what you imagined your life would be. Yet it turned out to be the best decision ever.

Pairing: Donaka Mark / F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.518

Warnings: mentions of working as an escort, swearing, smut, Dom vibes, sex toys, general nudity idk

A/N: I watched Men of Tai Chi for the first time and god damn Donaka can get it. So this happened. Also big thanks to @ladyreapermc​ for beta-ing this mess in it’s unedited form cause i’m a lazy fuck LOL

*Taglist in reblog

Silence.

All there was was silence. Every day. Every hour of the day. At least when Donaka was home. Which seemed to be more often in the last couple of months.

You were oh so young when you met him. Struggling to earn your own money after you didn’t have enough to pay for uni, you did the last thing you ever wanted to do. You became an escort. Looking back it had to be fate that he was your first client.  He had been searching for a young woman to accompany him to a dinner party.

“Look nice and don’t speak a word.” Was the only sentence he spoke to you the whole evening. Not that you would have been able to form an intelligent sentence on the yacht he had taken you on. He was dressed in all black, while you were wearing a dark purple dress he had bought you. It was the single most expensive thing you ever had worn. Not counting in the diamond earrings he had made you wear. 

Apparently you had done a great job as his pretty arm candy because from that night on, he had booked you regularly. So often that after a couple of months he made you the offer to become his exclusive escort. 

He didn’t like to share. 

He never had made any intentions in taking this thing between you further than just for appearances. Yet you couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. You didn’t know exactly what he did for a living, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t just a security firm he was running. Donaka was someone you didn't want to have on your bad side. And overall he was more than generous. You agreed to become his exclusive escort if he would pay for you to get your masters degree. Which he did.

He still was as cold as the first time you met him, yet sometimes you got a glimpse on the man beneath the mask. That was mostly when the two of you were alone. 

It was a year into your arrangement when something changed. You had met him in his penthouse more often. Being alone with him still sent a thrill through your body, because you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards him. And it wasn’t just his looks. You felt like he genuinely cared for you in his own way. 

But on that day he was on edge. He sat on his big couch when you entered his penthouse, dressed in all black as usual, though his face was a hard mask.

“I didn’t know you would be coming over today.” He hadn’t even looked at you, yet you could see his eyes dark and clouded with anger.

“It’s thursday. You said to always come over on thursday.”

“Well… I’m not in the mood today.” He snapped.

Feeling brave, you stepped into his line of sight, when he finally looked up at you.

“What are you in the mood for then?” You held his gaze as your hands slowly opened the first button of the blouse you were wearing.

“Don’t…” He hissed.

“Why?”

“Cause you won’t be able to take it, once I get up from this couch.” He said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours.

“I am not as innocent as you think Donaka.” You answered, opening the next button. As if you had known something like this would finally happen, you had decided to wear a deep blue lacy bra with matching panties. He continued to watch you for a while, as you slowly stripped down, your confidence shrinking with every second he continued to just sit there, before he finally got up.

“You’ll address me as Sir.” He said, towering over you, one of his hands gathering your hair in a ponytail and slowly tugging your hair so you had to look up at him.

“And tomorrow you are gonna move out of your shitty apartment and move in here.” He stated, his other hand on your hip shooting electricity through your body.

“Yes, Sir.”

A year after this encounter he had suggested getting married.

Like a business transaction. And against all your better judgement you agreed. You never had the intention of marrying anyway. Yet when a dark blue velvet box was waiting on your plate at dinner the next day, the most beautiful emerald cut diamond ring you had ever set your eyes on inside of it, you couldn’t help the nervous flutter in your belly. That Donaka had the hint of a smile on his lips as he watched you slip the ring on your ring finger, didn’t help the whole situation.

He had fucked you against his bedroom window the whole night.

It wasn’t a big ceremony. As a matter of fact it was just you and him on a normal tuesday afternoon. You were getting ready in your bedroom, you still had your own room, even if most nights you spent in the safety of Donaka’s bed, when he had walked in.

“You look beautiful.” He had startled you. You had decided on an ivory shoulder free dress, that hugged you curves perfectly, and ended just over your knees. Looking up you caught his eyes in your mirror, he was wearing a simple black suit, a dark grey dress shirt underneath and the black silk tie you had gifted him for his last birthday. Smiling shyly you had turned around, bending down to get your shoes on, when he got on his knees.

“Let me…” He had mumbled, and helped you in the dark red velvety Jimmy Choos you had fallen in love with. His fingertips on your ankles were driving you insane. When he looked up, you had the words you so desperately wanted to tell him on your lips. I love you.

You didn’t know why it was so hard for you to actually say them. You were getting married to the guy. You had spent almost three years with him, yet you still felt like you only knew so much about him.

“I know this isn’t probably how you imagined your wedding day.” His big hand came to rest on your knee as he looked up at you.

“I never actually imagined ever getting married, Donaka.” You had smiled but sighed.

“Then why did you say yes?”

“I…” You gulped. Before you could stop yourself your hand reached out, your fingertips stroking over his freshly shaved cheek.

“I like being with you. And this…” You shook your head. “Thing between us might be, in a weird way, the healthiest relationship I ever had. I feel happy being with you.”

“I feel happy with you too.”

It was the first time Donaka showed his vulnerable side.

Your wedding day now was exactly five years ago. Donaka had been gone for three weeks on a business trip leaving you alone. Which gave you time to work almost every hour and you were happy when he got back home. You still had your own bedroom. But you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in it. Ever since the wedding Donaka had opened up more and more. The first time he told you that he loved you, had to be one of the happiest days of your life. Smiling to yourself you got out of the shower, just drying yourself off, before you slipped on the long slip robe he had brought you from one of his trips and tiptoed to the bedroom. 

The door was fully open, letting you see Donaka sit with his back against the massive headboard, sheets spread around himself as he read some reports. He was completely naked, his hair getting a little longer.

Donaka mostly ran around naked when he was home, something you only had found out after you’ve gotten married. The amount of sex you have had in all rooms of his, your penthouse, was insane. For a man in his late forties he had a stamina some twenty years olds would be jealous of. 

His huge king size bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. Black, heavy wood posters framed it and it’s massive dark grey headboard set against the dark green Silk wall behind it. The whole bedroom was rather dark. Much like Donaka.

“You’re home.” You said quietly. You saw him nod, not even looking up at you as he continued to read.

“Everything went fine?” You asked.

He shook his head. “One big fucked up mess is what it is.” He growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers over your whole body, arousal shooting right to your core.You hadn’t touched yourself ever since he left, like he instructed, leaving you a horny mess. And you were ready for him.

“Anything I can help to make it better… Sir?” You added. That made him look up.

“Not today.” He said after a while and focused back on his reading.

With an open mouth you looked at him. You could see that his cock clearly had other ideas as he got hard.

“Well…” You grinned mischievious to yourself as you slowly walked over to your side of the bed, letting you robe slip over your shoulder before you sat on the bed next to him. You could see him watching you from the corner of your eyes as you reached for your moisturizer, beginning to massage it into your skin. 

“I thought a couple of years would go by until my husband neglected me.” You sighed, making sure you spend more time massaging between your thighs, making yourself moan lowly as your hand brushed over your clit.

“I’m not neglecting you, I’m busy. Now be a good girl and go to sleep.” Donaka said. You looked at him, still reading. Yet his cock was standing proudly against his stomach.

Biting your lip you grinned. You could be a good girl, but maybe today you wanted to be a bad girl. You pulled the papers he was reading out of his grasp, laying them down next to him. Before he could open his mouth you had straddled his lap, your hands grabbing the headboard behind him. Dark eyes looked up at you.

“I know you don’t really give a fuck, but it’s our wedding anniversary today. And I haven’t had an orgasm since the morning you left. So I think I’m gonna be a bad girl today, Sir.” You whispered against his ear. His hands were on your ass, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Is my girl horny?” He asked as you began to roll your hips, his cock brushing over your clit with every move.

“Is my wife desperate to cum? To be filled to the brink? To be fucked so hard the whole fucking building hears just what a slut she is?” He asked, closing his mouth around one of your nipples and sucking harshly, making you moan loudly, arching your back against his chest.

“Fuck me, Donaka.” You whimpered.

“No.” He said. Confused you looked down at him, a grin on his lips.

“You want to cum, you take what you want.”

The surprise must have been prominent on your face as he tilted his head up, to meet your lips in a longing kiss. 

“Fuck me and you get to cum as often as you want.”

Reaching with your hand between your bodies, to pump his cock slowly you lined yourself up on top of him, before you slowly sank down on his cock, your eyes not leaving his before he filled you to the brink. Breathing in puffs you looked at each other, until you slowly began to move. With your nipples brushing over his chest hair, everytime you moved up and down, the only noise in the room were your whimpers. With your hand grabbing the headboard behind him you rode him, jumping up and down on his cock, feeling evey ridge and vein, the burn you always felt when he filled you, slowly turning into pleasure.

“Slap me.” You moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy. His hand slapped your ass with force, his groans muffled by his mouth sucking bruised on the skin on your boobs. He loved to mark you there. For no one to see but him. 

You were almost there when one of his arms sneaked behind your back, flipping you with your back on the mattress. Your surprised yelp turned into a long moan as he began to pump into you hard, his hand holding your wrists over your head down on the mattress, you automatically had brought up. Closing your eyes, as he hit your G Spot with every thrust you whimpered.

“Fuck! You are so sexy. I love when I make your tits jump with every fucking thrust.” He groaned. Opening your eyes, you just saw something pink flash beside him, when you screamed as he brought your vibrator down on your clit on the highest setting.

“Fuck Donaka….” You moaned. He let your wrists go, not that you had any intention on moving your arms.

“You better cum for me, cause I still have some work to do.” He growled, moving the vibe on your clit as his thrusts became deeper, making your toes curls.

With your last strength you brought one arm up to touch his biceps, making him kiss your hand. 

“I…” He rubbed the vibe in circles over your clit, making you explode, you hand clutching the dark sheets. Whimpering, your whole body shook, as he fucked you through your orgasm, making it last until you almost passed out.

“Want me to cum inside you? Fill my wife with my cum?” He asked, making you moan. You loved when he called you wife.

“Yes, cum inside me Don…” You sighed, still trying to breathe normally when he groaned and spilled his massive load inside you. Looking into each other’s eyes as you tried to breathe you couldn’t believe that he was yours.

“I love you.” You whispered. A soft smile graced his lips, a smile that was only reserved for you.

“I love you too. Can you now go to sleep and let me work?” He asked, arching his left eyebrow.

“Seriously?” You asked.

“You’ve been a bad girl. You’re gonna need your strength for your punishment tomorrow.” He said in all seriousness, making you bite your lip.

“And we have an early flight out, so best to let me finish this.” He said, his cock slipping out of you. His eyes left yours for a moment, to look at your pussy, his cum dripping out of you, making him smirk.

“Early flight?” You asked.

“You really thought I’d forget our anniversary? I bought an island.” He said.

“An island?” You asked.

“Your island.” He corrected.

“What do I need to pack?” You asked. Grinning he leaned down, kissing you deeply.

“Nothing. Except maybe the diamond plug. Because that’s all you are going to be wearing for the next two weeks.” He whispered against your lips, before he sat back against the headboard.

[the-bees-knives]

Hi yes hello. I saw that you rebloged the oc ask thingy and I'll be ordering for the whole table. Can I get a 2, 3 ,5, 7, 9, 10, 12, 13, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 32, 34, 37, 41, 45, 48, 50, 51, 55, 60, 65, 68, 69, 70, 73, 78, 83, 87, 89, 93, 96, 98, and 99? All for Biscuit. (IM REALLY REALLY SORRY I JUST WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM 😭)

This got real long... answers under the cut!

2. What are their favourite possessions? Why? (sentimentality, history, price, etc.)

His favourite possession... is you! ✋👁👁

Jokes aside, Biscuit isn't too materialistic. However, he does like the hairband he uses for his braid; it was a gift from his mother! The bow he wears around his neck is also a remnant of a modification of his uniform from his previous place of work. Biscuit used to work both as a mascot and a cook (it would switch depending on the situation) at his family's diner (restaurant? i don't know the term), and he added it because he thought it looked cute (also he couldn't do anything too feminine :( so this was the best he could do).

I will note that the cutlery embedded into him is not a part of his favourite possessions, despite his unwillingness to part with them. They're more like a part of his body, I guess?

3. Do They get jealous easily? If so, what usually causes it?

If Biscuit formed an attachment to someone and then saw them with someone else, he'd be wary of the new person, if not jealous. They'd have to become acquainted with Biscuit to ease him, though that might not always work. He'd still probably try to drag his companion away. Basically, he's pretty protective (possessive?) over those he likes.

5. What's their reputation like? Does this reputation contrast what they're really like?

I'm not sure how others would see him. Either it's "eccentric cosplayer (who's really in character)" or "weird dude". Probably the first one, as normal people couldn't survive with knives in their body for that long. Mostly Biscuit's just a weird dude though.

7. What's their "type"? What romantically attracts them to another person?

Biscuit doesn't really have a preference on appearance, it's more based on personality. Either it's someone who can care for him or someone who's just as feral/zero-braincell'd as him. He normally takes care of his victims, but he doesn't see that as attraction; it's more like caring for cattle before you eat it. If someone cared for him though, he'd be into it. As for the other one, it's just a feral power couple; both can be absolutely insane together (Run).

9. If they could change one part of their appearance, what would it be?

Spine that can turn 180 degrees. Reasoning: he has to sleep on his stomach because of the knives, but then his feet are bent uncomfy while on his stomach. Rotate spine for comfy feets. Plus, it'd be a cool party trick.

10. What's a simple thing that brings them joy?

Pets/physical affection. (Unfortunately, by unintentional design, this man is Unpettable.)

12. What's their position in their friend group? (leader, mom friend, chaos goblin, etc.)

The chill goblin: you can sit with him and have a nice hat, but if anything gets the interest of his one (1) braincell, he will go absolutely feral.

13. How forgiving are they? What do they consider unforgivable?

I think he's pretty forgiving, considering. If you attacked him, he'd probably consider it as play-fighting or something. He won't like it if you mess with his personal belongings, but he'll forgive you if it's for a good reason (for him) or if you give it back.

As for the things he'd find unforgivable, touching the two knives sticking out of his head is an absolute no-no. (The ones in his shoulders are sort of meh; he won't like it if you touch them, but he won't try to kill you for it.) The knives in his head are really sensitive, so he'll become agitated quick and snap if you try to move or remove them.

16. What food do they absolutely hate?

fish yucky >:(

17. Do they show a lot of affection, or are they pretty reserved?

If Biscuit had an s/o or a good friend (you know, people he's not interested in for food), he'd be pretty affectionate; he likes them and wants to show it! He might get a little close though, so make sure to set (and remind him of) personal boundaries.

19. What's their unusual quirk?

I don't know why, but I imagine that Biscuit can bleed infinitely. If you were to remove any of the knives embedded into him, the wound will just keep bleeding until they're inserted back in. I don't really have an explanation for this, but he is a human, so??? I just think it's neat.

20. Are they easy to wake up in the morning, or grouchy and sleepy?

While Biscuit does get up early, he's particularly lazy and groggy. It's kind of like those moods where you want to go back to sleep, but you can't because your body's awake.

21. What's their ideal date like?

Anywhere really, so long as his s/o is giving him attention.

32. What are they like at parties? Party animal, or awkwardly sitting in the corner drinking punch and reading?

Party animal, except everyone else is sitting in the corner trying to avoid him. He doesn’t really think before speaking, so he says whatever without any filter. (Plus, the knives don’t help. No, he won’t remove them.)

34. What’s their favourite drink? (Coffee, tea, juice, hot chocolate, soda, etc.)

Biscuit is a milkshake lad. His favourite is strawberry-banana!

37. Are they a hopeless romantic, or is that stuff just not for them?

Biscuit has a “love-at-first-interaction” mentality, like if someone shows genuine interest in him, then he wants to be with them and chases that feeling (and them).

41. What would they dress up as for Halloween?

Bold of you to assume that he’d even need a Halloween costume.

All jokes aside though, Biscuit has No Patience to put a costume together (or even look for one), so he’d probably just go with his normal wear. People have already mistaken the knives as cosplay/props anyway, so it’s just less work, instant results.

(He does have the old mascot suit, but he can’t wear it anymore without it hitting the knives.)

45. Are they always late, on time, or early?

None of the above, he forgot that event was today.

48. How dramatic are they?

Biscuit’s not the type to start drama, nor is he extremely emphatic (is that the word?) with his speech. He’s just kind of vibing.

50. Why would they be a good partner for a road trip?

Fun(?) to do activities with; will probably suggest random stuff to do if there’s no set itinerary (will probably suggest it anyway). If you’re looking for a spontaneous road trip, he’s your guy.

51. Why would they be a BAD partner for a road trip?

Will Never Sit Still; must be kept under watch constantly, otherwise he’ll run off to who knows where. (Just keep him on a leash or something)

55. Choose a vine you think perfectly encapsulates their character.

This video has pretty strong vibes of brainrot, so I think it's appropriate.

60. What sappy thing will they cry at? (romance movies, cute cat videos, etc.) Would they deny crying about it later on?

Biscuit loves all types of animals, especially furry ones (so dogs, cats, bats, rats… bean toes are a plus). So he’d absolutely cry if shown cute pet videos and gush about how precious and baby each one is. No denial either, if you confront him about it, he’d just justify it by gushing about them more. (He doesn’t have any pets of his own though. I wouldn’t trust him with a pet.)

As a side note, if he found out his victim was a beastkin or could turn into an animal or something, he’d be really conflicted on whether to harm them or not, but would ultimately decide against it.

65. Do they give people a lot of nicknames?

Biscuit isn’t creative enough to make genuine nicknames. However, if he forgot your name (and he probably would), he’d just name something off of your appearance (“pink jacket”, “shark guy”, things like that).

68. Are they easy to fluster? What would you have to do to truly fluster them?

Biscuit can only really be flustered by people he likes or people that he thinks are close to him. He’ll melt and nuzzle you if you surprise him with something nice, physical or otherwise :)

69. What’s their dream vacation like?

Go to the countryside and run around and be feral. Then chill in the evening and take a bath, because he needs to make sure his knives are clean.

70. Are they a good liar?

Biscuit doesn’t even try to lie. He’s really impulsive, and he doesn’t see what’s wrong with what he does. If he tried to lie, it’d be stupid/simple and obvious that it’s a lie, but he’d stick to his guns and insist that it’s true. Though, his voice/expression wouldn’t fluctuate, so you’d have to believe either in common sense or him.

73. Are they more book smarts, or street smarts?

Street smarts; this man’s head is empty (except for the two knives in there but).

78. What’s something they’re really bad at?

Almost anything that involves careful planning and concentration to complete. Things like puzzles or sewing; if it doesn’t give immediate satisfaction, then what’s the point?

The only things that Biscuit does pay attention to are cooking and, by extent, caring for his victim (as they’re a part of the cooking process).

83. What are they like as an s/o?

Loyal and (possibly) clingy. Will want to accompany you for days, then vanish out of thin air due to impulsiveness (will absolutely forget to feed his victim during this time, if he has one). Forgets about physical boundaries, but means well (trying to show affection).

Biscuit’s love languages are, in no particular order: physical touch, acts of service, and quality time. Personal hug-buddy that can cook :)

87. Do they like spicy food?

Yes he does! I like to imagine that he incorporates spice from time to time into his dishes. I don’t know what his tolerance would be though due to lack of experience (I will perish).

89. What would they get into a petty argument over?

Which animal is the best? Answer: it’s all of them. (Though he does have a preference towards furry animals, he tries to be unbiased in this argument.)

93. What type of movies do they like to watch?

Both gorey horror movies and feel-good movies (especially if they have animal protagonists). They’re just fun to watch.

96. What’s their sense of humour like? (Dad jokes, morbid humour, basic knock-knock jokes, stand-up comedy, etc.)

Physical humour, stand-up, and maybe surreal humour. Anything else might be too complex for him.

98. How competitive are they?

He’s not very competitive on his own, though if someone challenges him to a contest, he’s still going to try to beat them for the satisfaction of it. Don’t challenge him to a contest if you want to have chill times with him.

99. What would they wear to a formal event? Describe their outfit!

Biscuit has No Standards when it comes to social events, so he’s going as normal. If he had to dress fancy though (and if he had access to it), he’d probably just wear a simple pink dress shirt and dress pants + suspenders. Slick his hair back too. The knives stay.

(I don’t even think he can enter most shops with the knives, fake or not. I don’t know; I’ve never entered an establishment with visible knives before.)

This was a long post, so let me know if I missed anything;;

[floatingpetals]

Boys in Blue || Pt. 13

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluffy goodness

Word Count: 3400+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: I did not forget about this story! I swear to you all I didn’t! Things just got crazy back in Nov and I had to take a break. And then March happened, and well... Now I’m here! Thank you all for being so patient! I hope you enjoy this next part and what I have left in the story! Please let me know what you all think and reblog! It helps validate me 😆 Enjoy!! 

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Series Masterlist

Steve didn’t get a chance to talk to Bucky until nearly three days later. Y/N had spent the night over the last three nights, but now she was back to work and reluctantly had to go back home. Steve and Bucky’s night routine didn’t change much, save for having to dance around a third, but not having Y/N there cuddled between them made the two pause when they climbed into bed.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” Bucky sighed and slid under the covers.

Steve nodded quietly and reached for the cord to plug in his phone. He was right, this was weird. He didn’t like Y/N not being there. It felt like a piece of him was missing, a third of his heart gone. He sighed and stared at the lock screen, a selfie of the three of them at the park a few months back. Bucky turned at the heavy sigh, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong baby?” He reached out and gently tugged on Steve’s arm, urging the blonde to lay back against his chest. A soft smile spread on his face, and Steve relaxed into Bucky’s arms nuzzling his nose into Bucky’s neck.

“I want to talk to you about what happened at the party,” Steve said after a brief peaceful moment. Bucky ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, nudging him to continue. “I overheard Y/N talking with Maddie. It’s pretty big, to be honest.”

“Anything dealing with Maddie is always big.” Bucky snorted.

“Yeah well,” Steve sighed and sat up. His nerves twisted in his stomach, worried about how this could go. Not that he’d think it would go wrong, but there could be a chance he was reading this wrong. Bucky whined and curled beside him, throwing an arm over Steve’s lap. “This is big. It made me think too.”

“You, thinking? That can’t be good.” Bucky joked, trying to lighten the mood. Steve rolled his eyes and gently dug a knuckle between a rib in retaliation, relishing the squeak that erupted from his occasionally irritating boyfriend.

“Anyways.” Steve continued on with a playful glare. “She was talking with Maddie about us and what she thinks about our future.”

Bucky lifted his head, breath caught in his throat. That’s why Steve was shifting in his seat nervously. This could go one of two ways “Oh?”

“Yep,” He nodded slowly. “She might have mentioned she can’t see herself having a life without us.”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. Sitting up, Bucky leaned against the headboard and gave Steve his full attention. He was right. This was big.

“And I definitely feel the same.” Steve muttered, staring down at his hands. “I love her Buck. I love you both. I thought I was lucky to have you but to have you both? Whatever God’s up there must think I done something really amazing to gift me you two to in my life.”

A warm smile grew on Bucky’s face, and he tipped his cheek against Steve’s shoulder. Steve blew out a shuddering breath and nervously stared at Bucky from the corner of his eyes.

“Do you? Love us both, I mean?”

That question made Bucky scowl; a touch hurt Steve had to ask. Was that even a real question? He always made sure to tell her and Steve both as much as he could. He sat up and narrowed his gaze at Steve.

“Of course I do! You know this. What kind of question is that?” Bucky snarled. Steve was quick to take his hand.

“I know, but… I just had to ask. We’ve not had a great track record with being on the same page and all.” Steve chuckled. “She mentioned a week or so ago she was going to have to start looking for a new apartment since her lease is going up and they're bumping the rent price up.”

“Yeah,” Bucky tried to relax and remembered that evening when she came over in a huff. She was irritated, needed someone to vent to and Maddie was busy with her kids.

“It’s too soon to pop the whole ‘til death do us part’ question. That and we have to figure a few things out and such, but I think I want to ask her to move in with us.” Steve said softly.

Bucky’s heart skipped and pure joy exploded in his chest at the image. Yes, he thought with an elated sigh, that sounded like an amazing idea. To wake up and have her there, in their arms in the same bed and not have to dread falling asleep without her that night? That would be a dream. No, that could be his life. A life he desperately wanted.

“I wanted to ask you first-.”

“Yes.” Bucky interrupted, beaming at Steve. Steve blinked and laughed softly, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s waist.

“Well, then why don’t we ask her tomorrow at dinner?” Steve asked against Bucky’s shoulder, softly peppering kisses along his exposed skin. Bucky made a happy noise in the back of his throat and nodded, melting against Steve. They had already spent so much time with each other, Steve and Bucky made room for her a month back to keep things here when she wanted to stay. To take that next step and ask her to move in with them only made sense.

Overjoyed beyond imagine, Bucky’s eyes fell shut and he snuggled closer. He wasn’t going to worry about the what-ifs right now, he was only going to focus on the positives. Y/N wouldn’t say no. She couldn’t, right?

Steve pressed another kiss against Bucky’s neck and hummed. He nudged Bucky to lay down on the mattress and hovered over Bucky with a blissful grin. Even though he didn’t need to worry about his weight crushing Bucky, Steve was still careful. He didn’t want to hurt either of them, he would do anything for them.

“I love you Bucky,” Steve whispered softly. Bucky smirked and tugged Steve down to kiss him once and then twice.

“Love you too, you big sap,” Bucky mumbled softly. “Now get off me so we can go to sleep and ask our girl to live with us together.”

Steve laughed and flopped to Bucky’s side. He slid an arm under Bucky’s back and tugged him against his chest. Bucky reached over to flip off his bedside light and settled back against Steve. Despite all the butterflies causing his stomach to churn, Bucky couldn’t wait to fall asleep. He was ready for this. They both were.

Y/N groaned and chunked her keys on the kitchen table. She flipped through her mail, stopping at the envelope with her apartment complex’s return address. She grumbled and chunked that too on the table. She didn’t want to think about finding a new apartment. She was already annoyed they were raising her rent, despite living here for nearly three years with no issue. Stupid management.

A series of knocks brought a smile to her face when she heard the rhythmic beat. She shook her head and kicked her shoes off, sending them flying under in the living room.

“It’s open!” She called out and headed to her open concept kitchen.

The door swung open and both Steve and Bucky stepped in with a bounce to their steps.

“Hey baby girl.” Bucky was down the hall and scooping her up in his arms before she had a chance to blink. Y/N let out a delighted squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing when he began to shower kisses across her face.

“Bucky. Bucky. Bucky!” She cackled. Bucky beamed at the sound of her laughter and set her down. “Not that I’m not happy for the reception, but what in the world?”

“Am I not allowed to show my girl how much I love her?” Bucky teased, his eyes dancing with delight.

Steve rolled his eyes at the flirty words and nudged Bucky aside with his hip to take his place. Y/N greeted him with a broad smile, Bucky’s good mood infectious.

“Hi baby.” He said with a kiss. “How was your day?”

“Not bad, better now that you’re here.” Y/N hummed and dragged her hand down to rest on his chest. There was an indignant scoff from further inside the kitchen and the two turned to the sound.

“Just him?” Bucky pouted from the fridge. He had a beer in one hand, and the plate with leftover cake in the other. Y/N scowled and marched over to snatch the plate from his hand.

“Eat the last of my cake and you bet your cute ass just him. Get out of here.” She snapped, playfully glaring at him. Bucky didn’t bat an eye, grinning wide at her remark. He looked over to Steve who glanced up from where he was nosing through her mail on the table.

“She thinks my butts cute!” Bucky snagged another beer and floated over to Steve. His boyfriend chuckled and shook his head. He took the offered drink and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s temple.

“Course she does.” He murmured and turned back to the mail. He spotted the address on the top envelope, and he couldn’t stop being nosey. He plucked the envelope up from the table and flipped it over. “What’s this?”

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, pulling out the food she was going to start getting ready for their dinner.

“That’s my I have 60 days to tell them if I want to live here or not letter.” She grunted. Steve and Bucky both shared a look, their excitement barely contained on their faces. Steve ripped open the letter and read over the top letter. Just a basic formal letter telling her to let them know by the end of the week.

“Have you decided if you wanted to stay here or pick someplace else?” Steve tried to keep his voice calm. Bucky was practically vibrating next to him, and it was taking everything not to blurt out the question. Instead, he bit his tongue and let Steve speak. Y/N was none the wiser of the two behind her and dug for a pan under the counter.

“I’m not staying here. Not for the extra two hundred a month.” She huffed. “I should probably start looking for a place now that I don’t have to worry about Maddie’s party anymore.”

Bucky nudged Steve’s side, his eyes wide and jerked a chin to Y/N. It was now or never.

“Or,” Steve let out with a shaky breath. He set the letter aside and slowly stepped around the table. Y/N glanced over her shoulder and stopped short. Steve had a nervous look in his eyes, and she couldn’t tell if Bucky was ready to fly out of his skin or jump across the room to hold her again. “We had another idea.”

Setting the pots down, Y/N turned her full attention to the two. Steve took hold of one her hand and brought her to the table. Nervously, Y/N sank into a seat.

“You do?” She asked as the two sat in empty seats. Steve nodded and bit his lip, glancing at Bucky.

“First, I know we’ve not been together very long,” Steve started cautiously. Which wasn’t untrue. They’ve only been dating for a few months, 9 at the most. Another reason why they were both nervous to ask, she might think this would be too fast. “And we understand if you think this is too fast. But we’ve been talking. Bucky and I-I mean. The timing’s right- You don’t have a place yet. We just-We were wondering-. Would you-.”

“Steve.” Y/N giggled when the man started to stammer. It was cute but she wanted to help him along. She took his hand and squeeze his hand. “You can ask me anything.”

Bucky’s leg shook under the table and her nervous leaned against Steve. His earlier excitement started to fizzle out and now he was just as nervous if not more than Steve. Steve took in a deep breath and slowly raised his gaze to lock eyes with Y/N.

“We wanted to ask if you to move with us.”

Y/N blinked. Did she hear him right? From the anxious expression in his eyes, Y/N realized she had. She peered over to Bucky and he had a similar look of apprehension. Stunned, Y/N didn’t know what to say. She never thought about it. However, as the silence stretched, the spark of hope slowly started to fall from the two’s eyes. Maybe it was too soon.

“You-,” Y/N had to double-check. “You want me to move in with you? Together?”

Bucky breathed slowly and nodded.

“That is the hope. We kind of both are a package deal.” Bucky reached across the table and took her other hand in his.

Y/N didn’t reply. She stared at their hands silently, a thousand thoughts running through her head. Was this too soon? Is this what she wanted? What if things didn’t work out, then what? That made her stop short. She didn’t want things to fall apart. She wanted it to work out with them. Hell, she loved them for Christ's sake. But was this what she wanted right now?

“Y/N.” Steve whispered softly, drawing her back to the presents. “Don’t feel pressured into this. We know that this is soon. Trust me we get it. But we would love for you to live with us.”

“I-I don’t know…” Y/N said uncertainly.

Bucky deflated, his shoulders dropping at her quiet answer. It wasn’t a no, he knew, but it still was upsetting to hear. He reluctantly pulled his hand away and stood, needing to do something other than sitting there and wallow in self-pity. Y/N’s heart skipped when he pulled away. Her eyes snapped up at him, sucking a sharp breath at the dejected expression on his face. He walked over to the stove where she set the pots to busy himself with starting their dinner.

“Why don’t we eat, and you can take some time to think about it,” Steve said, sitting back against the chair. His usually open expression was locked down, his jaw tense.

Y/N swallowed thickly and nodded, her eyes starting to mist. Trying to tamp down the tears she felt growing, Y/N sniffed softly and grabbed her purse she threw on the table earlier.

“I’m gonna go change.” She muttered and darted to her room. Neither of the two men tried to stop her, they simply watched her dejectedly as she slammed the door behind her.

Y/N dug out her phone and frantically dialed Maddie’s number. It rang twice before her friend answered.

“What’s up, babe?” Maddie greeted.

“They asked me to move in with them.”  Y/N blurted, trying to keep her voice down.

“What? Who?” Maddie asked taken off guard.

“Steve and Bucky.” Y/N walked to her closet and squatted down beside the clothes. She tried to keep her breathing steady and to stop her hands from shaking. “My lease is almost up, and they asked me to move in with them.”

Maddie was quiet for a beat, but the disbelief was palpable.

“And what’s the problem?”

“It’s just so fast!” Y/N whined. Maddie let out an irritated sigh.

“Did you completely forget what we talk about at the party?” Maddie grumbled. “How is them asking you, the woman who has admitted to wanting to spend the rest of her life with them, to move in with you ‘too fast’? If anything it’s not fast enough.”

“Yeah but-,” Y/N stopped short. Wait. What the heck was she freaking out about? Maddie was right. This wasn’t that fast if she thought about it. She already at the ‘I love them so damn much I can’t picture my life out them’ stage. Why not take a step in that direction by living with them?

“Quit freaking out.” Maddie waved off her concern. “Go tell ‘em you’ll move in with them for Christ's sake.”

Y/N opened her mouth to reply, but Maddie hung up before she could, effectively cutting off any argument she might have thought of. Maddie was, once again hit the nail on the head. She needed to quit freaking out.

Slowly standing, Y/N decided it was bet to change and give herself a little more time to relax. She was freaking out for nothing. Now she had to go back and fix what she did. Poor Bucky probably thought she was going to break up with them now.

She walked out of her room and stood at the end of the hall to watch Steve and Bucky, their backs stiff. Steve had gone to help Bucky, the two standing side by side in her small kitchen. That made her frown. They were so big, the two were giants made of pure muscle. She remembers how hard it is to move around their closed-in kitchen with them, throw in herself, and it would be near impossible to even turn. Their living room was large enough, but what about their bedroom? Or even their bathroom? It was a tiny little thing. How would all three of them fit in their little apartment comfortably?

Shaking her head, Y/N stepped into the room and walked over into the kitchen. Steve glanced up when she walked in and watched her wrap her arms around Bucky waist. Bucky froze, his muscles tensing.

“I’m sorry I ran.” Y/N whispered softly.

Bucky sighed, set the spatula down and moved the pan off the heat. He twisted in her arms and hugged her back. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and breathed in deeply.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “We didn’t mean to freak you out by asking. We shouldn’t have asked.”

“What?” Y/N gasped and pulled back. “No! That’s not- I’m not upset about you asking me! Of course, I want to live with you! I just- It took me off guard is all. I shouldn’t have run the way I did though. That was dumb.”

Steve and Bucky’s hearts both jumped at her saying yes, only hearing that. She wanted to move in with them. The crushing weight of her rejection was lifted in an instant. Bucky tightened his grip around her waist and made eye contact with Steve, beaming.

“You want to move in with us?” Steve asked breathlessly, needing to hear her say it again. Y/N giggled and nodded.

“I do.”

Bucky let out a shout and lifted Y/N up, spinning her around in the kitchen as he enthusiastically planted kisses all over her face. Y/N squealed and held fast, laughing at the joy from Bucky. He passed her over to Steve, was quick to do the same to her. He set her down, keeping his hands firmly on her hips. The smile he wore only grew wider at her breathless dazed expression.

“Guess we better start packing.” Bucky bounced up next to them, wrapping his arms around them both.

Y/N blinked rapidly and took in a deep breath. Yes, she’d have to start packing, but she needed to bring something else to their attention.

“As much as I want to, how is it going to work?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky cocked his head to the side, confused.

“Your apartment isn’t that big.” She started. “Whenever I stay over it’s always a dance to not step on each other’s toes. Not to mention I have a good amount of stuff, even if I sell most of my furniture. How could we make it work with the three of us?”

Steve and Bucky frowned. They hadn’t thought about that. It worked for them but adding her to the mix could be a little difficult. However, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“How about we try this out for a little bit and if it doesn’t work out, we can go from there.” Steve answered. Y/N chewed on her lip and considered it. Steve reached up and tugged her lip free with his thumb, a giddy smile on his face. “It’ll work out. Let's finish dinner and we can worry about that later.”

Nodding in agreement, Y/N stepped out their arms and went to see how far they got in making dinner. Steve went back to cutting the vegetables while Bucky stayed plastered to Y/N’s back. He was quite content to stay as close to her as possible. Without batting an eye, Y/N took over and leaned against him. If she could get this every night without having to leave, then she would gladly deal with a smaller space. Steve was right. They’ll figure something out. It always worked out in the end.

[between-two-fandoms]

Who We Used To Be (Ray/Rose/Trevor)

As told by myself and @thesevenumbrellas tag teaming the whump in the 18+ JatP discord. Sev I swear we operate on the same braincell levels, we do be clowning. @bobbywilsonsupremacy  let us know what you think of this! I know you and I both hardcore ship Raybse.

Cover was created by @thesevenumbrellas​. Please don’t steal it.

This post got long so fair warning.

We wrote this in a discord server over the time span of hours so there’s some mistakes but i’m too lazy to go back and fix it all. Basically we tag teamed on a Raybse Trevor Wilson-centric whump story and can destroy a fandom with a single touch.

You’ll understand once you click the cut.

Don’t Steal Our Writing (but please reblog this to spread it around).

Trauma Time.

major whump warning

(Ren) Okay so if we're gonna be starting at 90's ot3 my children ray/bobby/Rose know that Ray is a panic bi and loves both of these humans very much with his whole ass heart.

(Ren) He takes pictures of his girlfriend and boyfriend while they’re on dates because he wants to capture the moments he was happy the most. Bobby always shed away from the camera burying his face in Rose's shoulder or leaning in for a kiss. Anyways as time goes by Ray notices Bobby's change in behavior. From being his go-happy-trauma boyf to being caught up in the music scene, often out at all hours to parties and label meetings only to come to to sleep on the couch, not even sharing the bed like he used to. It reminds Ray of the time when Bobby was grieving his boys. Ray hates it, but he loves bobby so he pushes his feelings aside to try and arrange more dates for the three of them to go on together.

(Sev) Ray waking up to only Rose in the bed and not Bobby, and it feels too cold in bed without him. So he'll try to call him, because it's 3am and he's supposed to be home and he's not. And Ray remembers what happened to Bobby's bandmates, and he can't admit it out loud but he's worried. Because what if that happens to Bobby? He knows it was a freak accident! What are the odds of it happening again?? But he can't shake that feeling when Bobby doesn't come home at night and Ray stays up all night worrying. Anyway he tries to call Bobby and Bobby doesn't answer. He'll leave loads of voicemails, trying not to be pushy because he knows Bobby doesn't respond well to that. But he's worried. He'll say "hey please call me when you get this." and then ten minutes later try again "hey just text me that you're safe okay?" He can't sleep because Bobby still isn't home. It's 5am. He has to go to work in two hours. Rose keeps telling him to go to bed but he can't.[2:58 PM]Bobby finally texts back. "I'm okay! Was playing with some friends, the gig went over time and then we went to  party." Ray wants to be angry because seriously? No phone calls because he was at a party? But he knows that'll just push Bobby away more!

(Ren) And so Ray has all of these festering emotions that boil down to worry and concern at the core but he's just so scared hes losing Bobby cause he never really had his own family to begin with and then one day when Ray comes home early from a photoshoot he can hear Bobby and Rose fighting over Bobby signing the contract that says he wrote Luke's songs but Ray just hears yelling before he even opens the door with his name thrown into the mix and then he gets even more scared because what if he loses Rose and Bobby? if he lost both of them he'd be destroyed. So he doesnt knock. He doesnt go home. Instead he walks around the city until he was supposed to go home originally and he opens the door and there's a sort of eerie silence in the air.

(Sev) Trevor’s unable to shake the feeling that something terrible will happen to Rose and Ray because he's with them. His entire family were killed in 1 night because he wasn't there with them. So at first he's clingy as fuck to Rose and Ray because what if something bad happens when he's not there? What if what if what if... But as time goes on the thinking flips. Maybe it's the music industry that's the problem. It's these weird connections in his head of if he's too successful, bad things might happen. But he can't quit music like that, he can't give up on Luke's dream. He owes his boys to become successful. So instead he distances himself from Rose and Ray. That way they won't be caught up in whatever bad thing is going to happen to him. He distances himself and he waits for it all to drop. He waits for the universe to punish him again.

(Ren) And the universe punishes Bobby when the tension between him and Rose tightens so much he knows there's no going back from it but he's not admitting to stealing the songs because he didn't. He helped Luke write all of the songs more than Alex and Reggie ever did, staying up late with Luke after fights with his mom and Bobby didn’t want Luke to be alone so yeah, he wrote the songs. Maybe not as much as he claimed but he sure as hell made sure his brother wasn’t alone so that counted for something right? And it did. Until Rose kicks him out of bed because she's pissed he'd even consider stealing music and he cant tell Ray because of the NDA the label got him to sign at a party when he was drunk and the only reason Rose knows about it is because she was there when he signed the damn thing and so Bobby pulls away from Ray because isnt it going to be easier in the long run? If he doesn’t attach himself to Ray who'll just get angry at him like Rose did?

(Sev) It's the guilt that grows inside of him every passing day. They're my songs too he tells himself over and over again. But during the dark nights, three glasses of whisky in when the world is getting hazy... even he can't believe the lies he tells himself. He fucked up Sunset Curve. He fucked up his friends' memories. And now he fucked up the only good thing he'd ever had. Ray texts him nonstop. He doesn't understand why Rose kicked Bobby out and he doesn't understand why Bobby listened. Bobby can't take Ray away from Rose. He's fucked up and a terrible person, but even he can't do that. He doesn't give Ray his new address. He refuses to meet up even for Ray to give him his stuff back. All Bobby can do is hold onto Ray's sweatshirt he stole away and a bottle of perfume the same brand Rose always wears. He cradles these things in his arms and cries.

(Ren) And that's the last he sees of Ray for all of 5 years, 20yr old puppy-dog eyed loving precious ray who Bobby would run to the second Rose says its okay. But rose never does. And then Bobby meets a cute blonde and six months later the barista shows up on his doorstep shoving Carrie into his arms calling her a bastard child. Carrie is not a bastard child Carrie is his and he loves her the second he sets eyes on her and so Bobby turns into Trevor when the new year rolls around and he starts his own album. It doesn’t do as well as Luke's his first album did but it was his. And then one day Trevor signs Carrie up for dance because Trisha from first grade made fun of her for not being able to do the splits and on the way out of the dance studio Trevor bumps into Ray, a terrified looking girl clutched to his leg. Carrie doesn't miss a beat. "Hi! I'm Carrie let's be friends!" and Carrie drags Ray's daughter off and Trevor shifts awkwardly and is suddenly 17 again but Ray's eyes still twinkle like the did when they were kids and he's still wearing eyeliner so Trevor almost missed it when a flicker of recognition crosses Ray’s face and a smile quirks at the corners of his lips and he says, "hi im Ray, thats my daughter Julie. Wanna go out for a drink?" With that same mischievous glint in his eye that made Bobby fall in love with him in the first place.

(Sev) Trevor almost stops breathing. He should say no. He knows he should say no. He's an awful person. He doesn't deserve someone like Ray. He never deserved either of them. He knows that. But can't force himself to say no. Maybe it's the twinkle in Ray's eyes. Maybe it's the soul crushing loneliness he's felt ever since he left them. Or maybe it's the way Carrie and Julie are giggling in the corner like they've known each other all their lives. He says yes. The drink ends up at a family friendly restaurant with both the girls in tow.

(Ren) Rose shows up because Ray the asshole apparently texted her while he was in the car saying he met one of Julie's friend's parents and wanted to go out on a date (keeping things pg ofc) aklsdf. And when Rose does show up Trevor sees how... sick she looks. How much paler she looked than she did all those years ago how - he still knew he loved her even if she still decided she hated him.

(Sev) The mood drops quickly. Trevor wants to ask about Rose, but not in front of the kids. Ray wants to ask about their past, but not in front of the kids. Rose... Rose who holds all the answers... doesn't know where to start first. She had never regretted not telling Ray the truth. She never wanted to change Ray's perception of Bobby like that. Ray who looked at their boyfriend as if he'd hung the moon. Ray who stayed up worrying all night until Bobby came home. Ray who held Bobby through countless nightmares... But that makes the truth staring them in the face so much harder. Because she never gave Ray the choice. She realized that a few years too late after she catches Ray staring at old pictures of Bobby in their photo albums. She'd made the choice for him. And then there's Trevor... still beautiful, staring at her with so much concern her heart breaks all over again.

(Ren) The tension doesn't fly over Carrie's head like he hoped it would, she talks to Julie about My Little Pony and Pokemon and High School Musical and their mutual hatred for Trisha from school but Carrie's hand never lets go of his and he finally plucks up the courage and stretches his arm out and says "we're vegetarian for the most part, hope that's okay." And a smile quirks at the corner of her lips and she asks "for the most part?" and Trevor nods and Carrie pipes up from her seat saying "daddy hates hot dogs,” in that blatant fact kind of way kids say things without realizing how problematic it could be. It wasn’t her fault though, Trevor has yet to tell her about her uncles, about how he was in a band, about how they were going to be legends.

(Sev) Rose and Ray both freeze at Carrie's voice. He doesn't know if the girls notice, because he's too busy trying to fight back the panic in his throat. It's been a long time since anyone had brought up ... what happened. It's easy to pretend it didn't happen when his name is Trevor and no one knows him. But these two people know him. They know him more than anyone else ever has. Even the boys. The truth hits him hard at that moment. A truth he'd been avoiding for almost two decades. Ray and Rose know him better than even he knew himself. Maybe that was why Rose had been so furious with him, or why Ray continued to chase after him even months after he moved out. Trevor hides the building panic and sudden realization with a smile. "What an I say," he said as causally as he can. "I'm a picky eater." A few hours later they end up back at the Molina's house. Bobby has no idea how it happened. -No, Trevor has no idea how it happened, he scolds himself. He's Trevor. He has to be Trevor. Trevor got him this far, Trevor made the difficult choices. Bobby was the one who got his friends kill and destroyed the best relationship he ever had. Still, it becomes harder and harder to remind himself of that. To stop himself from slipping into the comfortable shoes of Bobby, boyfriend of Ray and Rose as if the past 17 years had never happened. He finds himself on their sofa, a sofa that brings back memories both good and bad... he finds himself in a familiar home, his old studio just a short walk away, his ex's giggling in the kitchen as they make his coffee the way he's always liked it without asking for a reminder.

(Ren) Trevor can remember the day he stopped drinking the coffee Ray made for him, the morning after his first fight with Rose, when he wakes up cold because Rose basically cocooned herself around Ray's body, keeping her back turned to him and as much as he wanted to reach out to Ray, to hug him and comfort him and tell him it was all going to be okay... everything was too stuffy and too tense and deciding he just had to leave because he was going to suffocate otherwise.

(Sev) He should leave, just like last time. What was he even doing here? He should take Carrie and- Then Ray's in front of him, pushing a hot cup into is hands. "The girls are playing upstairs," he says. His voice is so calm, so understanding. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." Trevor almost laughs. Because that's so like Ray. Almost a decade without answers and he's giving Trevor the option to ignore it all. To pretend like nothing ever happened. But he can't be that selfish again. So he shakes his head. "I'd... like to talk to you... to both of you."

(Ren) And then suddenly rose is eyeing him sus but he's been putting this off for to long and honestly fuck his label because they screwed him over one too many times for him to still even consider their relationship anything other than employee-client1[4:06 PM]and so Trevor takes a sip of Ray's coffee holy shit how did go so long without it?! and he explains it. he explains everything.

(Sev) Ray doesn't speak as Trevor explains. He never interrupts or even look surprised. His face is completely unreadable. He doesn't move until Trevor's done. And then once he is, he only stands up to start pacing the room. Trevor's oddly reminded of Alex as he does so,  and the memory is enough to make him flinch. "This... this is what you two have been hiding from me for so long?" he asked, voice brittle. "This is... this is what cost us... I mean..." But he can't finish. Ray just shakes his head, back to both Rose and Trevor.

(Ren) Suddenly he's seventeen again. Seventeen and a mess in Ray's arms burying his face into the man's chest finally feeling the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders and suddenly Rose is hugging him from behind, her too-skiny bone arms snaking around his chest and hugging him tightly threatening to never let him go saying "amour," and pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "amour we never stopped loving you."

(Sev)It's like no time has passed by the time he's done crying his eyes out. They're all huddled on a sofa that was always too small for three. Trevor's in the middle, clutching at them both as if they're going to disappear on him. Ray sits with his legs underneath them, his arms pulling the both of them into his chest. And then there's Rose, suddenly so much more delicate than Trevor remembers. She sits half on his lap, curled into them, her fingers knotted in his hair. "I can't believe you two kept this from me," Ray whispers. There's no anger. He doesn't think Ray's ever been capable of being angry. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispers, throat raw from tears. Ray answers with a firm kiss to his temple. "We wasted so much time..."

(Ren) Trevor just lays between them in their bed, nothing sexual and nothing tense it’s just them being together and Rose playing with his now-long hair, braiding it right down the middle despite it being too long for others to braid. Her fingers feel nice as they tug at his roots, familiar and a sense of calm washes over him. He lets ray fop on top of him like they used to, burying his head in his chest just listening to his heart beat, his steady constant breathing because Ray used to be afraid one day he'd wake up and Bobby would be dead too. Rose humming lightly, soft lullabies that chased away dark thoughts and Trevor just finds it so comforting, a feeling of home he hasn't had since the day he left and so he wraps his arms around Rose and Ray tight, promising himself he won't screw up his second time around.

(Sev) It's a few hours later when he speaks again. The girls are asleep in Julie's room (delighted at their surprise sleepover.) Ray's almost nodded off, head resting against Trevor's chest. But Rose is wide awake. She's laid out, tangled between them, eyes focused on something far away. He can see it more clearly now. The tremble in her hands, the way she's so still, the circles around her eyes. He takes her hand in his. "What is it?"

(Ren) And Trevor wants it to be a prank, he wants the sinking feeling in his gut twisting around his heart, the same feeling he had the morning of Sunset Curve's Orpheum performance coiling up his spine to go away. He wants everything to be okay, that he told the truth, that he was forgiven, that the universe was finally on his side for once but of course it's not because when has it ever been.  Rose's fingers run lightly over his knuckles and Ray wraps his arm around him from behind, his hands resting against Trevor's chest, something solid for him to focus on and as a tear starts to roll down Rose's cheek he reaches up to brush it away, running his hand through her hair only to pull out a clump as he pulled away but he couldn't run when his instincts to run kick in like they always used to do when situations turned emotional, bury it in his mind and lock up his worries like he always did but this wasn't going to be something he could run from.

(Sev) Life is not the fantasy or a fairy tale. There are no happy endings, only happy moments. He'd like to say they picked up right where they left off, Rose lived until a ripe old age, and they never fought again. But he'd be lying. It was hard to fold their lives back into place again, especially with Carrie and Julie. To just pick up after their seventeen year old selves was an impossible dream. But they could do breakfast. And breakfast became dinner. Dinner became one date which became two which became many. It took trouble and care, but they slotted themselves back into each other's lives again. There were lunch dates, and movie nights. There were late night wine dates and early morning coffee dates. They found their happy moments. A decade of separation had smoothed out the rough edges. If Trevor stormed out after a harsh argument, he'd return the next day with flowers and apologies. If Rose snapped and lost her temper, she'd take herself off for a walk to cool down. If Ray was bothered by something, he'd speak up instead of pushing it all down. They found their happy moments. And when 1 month became 1 year, they celebrated with moving boxes and a new, bigger couch. When 1 year became 2, they celebrated with promise rings and whispers of a better future between light kisses. 3 years became 4, became 5, and so on... They found their happy moments. But life is not a fantasy or a fairy tale. Their story ends in a hospital. Rose dies with both her husbands at her side, with both her daughters and son clutching on her hands. She dies with a smile on her face, knowing she is not leaving them to suffer alone. Ray and Trevor grieve together.

(Ren) And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. They stick to their daughters through the worst of it but they don’t let the girl’s fighting rip into them too. It’s not what Rose would’ve wanted for them, it’s not what she would’ve wanted for Julie or Carrie either.

(Sev) And when Julie plays with her ghost band, it's much earlier that Trevor recognizes who she's playing with.

(Ren) Luke’s mad at first, ofc he is but after everything is explained and out in the open Trevor finds himself at home in a building that never felt like home despite the fact he grew up in it.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Day Four: The One With The Metaphors

More wish fulfillment! I love this one, obvi- I love a metaphor. Anyway! Thank you so much to @dirtystyles for the read through and screams!

Send me screams! Reblogs are definitely love!

I’m starting a tag list as well for when I post- if you’d like- send me a note to add you! Thanks @awomanindeniall for the suggestion!

Elise woke up aware that something was wrong.

Amiss, that was a better word. Nothing hurt and she was supremely comfortable and warm, but something was off. It took a moment for her to puzzle it out.

The sun was high through the window, so at first she figured it was that she had slept in so unbelievably late. She'd been up to the wee hours last night. Elise could remember the clock on her iPhone saying 3:30am, lying in was not surprising, but a consequence. Her room was still, only her knee joints cracking when she stretched broke the silence.

The house was quiet too, but Harry had been a quiet housemate for the three days they'd been quarantined. He usually skulked about quietly in the morning to avoid waking her, and when she went down, he set about treating her like a treasured guest instead of the chick he sneezed on. Making her breakfast or doing her coffee immediately, like the world's best waiter.

Oh! That's what felt weird about today! She'd woken up in this stranger's bed in this stranger's house and didn't feel weird about it. There was none of the disorientation and then fear she'd got on the other mornings. The first one, she'd realized it wasn't her bed. Her bedding was an ombré of blues and purple, and while she liked the sheets, thought they were comfortable, she knew it would be hard to go back to them now. Harry's bedding was like the very plush stuff she had encountered when she went to see her one and only concert, by invite, of her friend Daphne. Elise wouldn't name the band. They'd stayed at a high end hotel. She'd been afraid to sit on the couch. She'd adopted an air of whatever by the time they made it to the bedroom, because she didn't want Daphne to notice how impressed she was. The friendship had petered out in high school, but they were buddies for a time. And Elise got used to her lifestyle, but never comfortable. She remembered the comforter in the hotel was down and over stuffed, and the sheets felt like a billion thread count. She doubted a cloud could feel better.

Harry's was better. In his guest room. Imagine what he had on his own bed! No- she wouldn't!

In any case, it was a glaring difference. On day one, or two, she'd need to nail down how to count the days, she realized, the blankets had caused a domino reaction. She'd reached behind her immediately and sighed in relief when she felt no body behind her. But they could have gotten up for the bathroom, maybe that's what had initially woken her.

So the next step in freak out containment was to smooth her hands down her body and confirm she was clothed. One night stands were not her style. It had happened once. Their sheets had not been this nice.

They had not been as nice as Harry in any way.

What would it be like to wake up, do her checks, realize she was in another's bed, and find it to be Harry. She giggled while she skipped down her own mental path. Waking up with Harry Styles, his actual bed, not the guest room one. That would have been a shock in every sense of the word. A pleasant shock, you might even do the walk of no shame from. In any case, this morning was different, but not that different.

Today, it just felt like this is where she woke up now. Her giggle broke the cold air, yeah, this was not a life she'd let herself get used too.

Poor international student and desert rat were still her bylines.

The plush bathroom was also amazing though, and she lingered over the heated floors. Just because she couldn't have them forever didn't mean she shouldn't appreciate them while she could.

It was 11:30 by the time she made it downstairs.  In truth, maybe she was stalling.

She didn't want to tell him she disliked his favorite book.

Well, dislike was a strong word. The book was alright, but Harry loved it. Elise felt like he would want her to love it too. They'd found things in common yesterday and it was lovely and thrilling. His face would light up in a way Elise wanted to be the root of, but they didn't have this new thing in common. He made this happy puppy face, full of energy and youth when they hit upon a movie they both spent hours rewatching, or bands they loved, listening to albums on-repeat in adolescent bedrooms. She hated to tell him it didn't expand to Norwegian Wood. She'd even worked on a line to soften the blow.

I like the prose, but not the protagonist. That's what she would say.

Did Harry see himself as the protagonist? Did you have to identify with a main character to love a story? Maybe you did, though she didn't see herself as a swamp girl, like the main in the book she had recommended to him. She did feel like an outsider, she supposed. She suspected everybody did a little.

Did Harry feel ordinary, and torn between melancholy and merry? He seemed bright to her- like a little firefly in the dark, with his bright shiny teeth and crinkly eyes. She'd listened to his first solo album, it had been serious to say the least. Wistful, nostalgic, sad in mood, ultimately hopeful. Maybe that's what he was like inside, and he just wore an upbeat face. Was it a mask?

But Harry was anything but boring. He was extraordinary. She believed that long before she was stuck in a house with him. It had just been confirmed by proximity.

Elise felt like she should listen to his new album right now to get a handle on where he might be at the moment, or closer to the moment. She almost pulled it up of her phone.

Shaking her head, she existed out of Spotify, she'd have to listen to his new album tonight. Elise knew if she stayed up here much longer, her temporary housemate would be at her door. Probably with coffee, just as she liked it, and maybe even toast. Oooh, that sounded delicious, maybe she would wait.

She wouldn't.

Elise took light steps down the stairs, she had it in her head to startle Harry. It was a strange impulse, people always did it to her, and she always jumped a foot. Apparently, everybody always found that hilarious. She didn't. Must be being on the wrong side of it.

She was about to find out.

Except Harry wasn't in the kitchen where she had come to expect him in the mornings. Though there was hot coffee in the French press with her cup next to it. The mug that said more joy. She'd liked the sex one, but it made her blush a little, she avoided it.

He'd noticed her pink cheeks, given her the joy one, and sipped from the other, his green eyes over the rim, dancing at her reaction to every sip. She shook off the memory.

The first sip was hot and everything she loved about the break of day. Rich in smell and possibilities and full or flavor and energy.

Elise drank three more gulps before she set off to scare Harry. She poured carefully and was proud enough to do a tiny happy dance when she didn't spill any.

"Yay! Why are we twirling?"

That time she did jump a foot into the air, and she was glad she wasn't holding the mug to warm her hands like she usually did. It would have shattered on his beautiful floor, and she was sure it cost a million pounds. The floor, though the mug was designer, she knew. A mug couldn't cost a million pounds right?

"Jesus! You scared me!" Elise had a hand to heart, coffee dribbles on it.

"Sorry!" He didn't look contrite in the least. The purse of his lips trying to flatten them into a rubber band. How did he not know better? They didn't flatten, not effectively, ever. His lips weren't juicy persay, but they did seem a little overfilled, like an exuberant cupcake. This morning she noticed they were framed by extravagant scruff, it had been sprouting for a day or so, and honestly she thought it made his face look a little dirty, but today it was filled in, darker, and the frame around the fruited hues of his lips was distracting. As was the beautiful hazard of his curls on his head. All of it was better than the horror of his eyes.

When she was younger, and she'd jumped from Liam as her girlhood crush to him, it had been the green of his eyes. Later, when Taylor sang about them, Elise could totally understand.

She was a little breathless, from the scare, and there was still coffee to clean up. She shifted her eyes and grabbed paper towels.

"Well," he cleared his throat before he spoke. "I feel I owe you breakfast because I gave you a fright. You had a full English yet?"

She hadn't. "Isn't that a lot of trouble though?"

"Well, it takes a bit, I'm thinking we have the time though. And I wouldn't call it trouble, and we both have to eat, yeah?" He said this from the fridge where he was already pulling out the necessary articles. "And it's late enough that we should call it lunch too. You slept in today."

"I did." She nodded.

"Just exhausted, or?" He was slicing tomatoes. She was watching him. He had really long fingers. They curved around the tomato in a way that made her sad. Or curious.

"What?" He was really distracting today. She'd have sworn she was over this crush ages ago. She supposed the real person was different to the images she looked at and created in her mind.

"Why so tired today? Up late?"

Oh, he wanted to know about the book. "Yeah, um, I was finishing Norwegian Wood."

"Did you like it?" He was smiling like he knew the answer.

"Um, I liked the prose." She dissembled, left out the protagonist part to avoid offense.

He frowned over the bacon he was laying in the skillet. Round bacon still threw her off.

"The prose? But not the book?" He guessed.

"It was alright. I didn't really like Toru. He frustrated me."

Harry went to run his hands into his hair, and maybe it was the cooking, which she was thankful for or the new worldwide obsession with hygiene, but he stopped himself. "Oh, I quite like Toru. I think he is like, like most guys. And because you are in his head you kinda get why."

She wanted to tell Harry he was nothing like Toru, way more interesting, and for someone who apparently thought they were indecisive, he was really in charge of his life. That it wasn't a fluke, or luck, not entirely. That it was him. She wanted to tell Harry he was special.

"Did you like my recommendation?" She asked.

He made a funny face. Oh? He didn't. That miffed her a little and she suddenly understood his upset.

"Can I say the opposite? I like the story, and the characters, but not the prose." Oh she'd loved the prose style. The lyrical quality. Way more lush than his pick.

"We must just like different styles."  She tried to shrug it off and was totally unclear why she couldn't. "I like my books to almost sound like they are lines lifted from a song."

"Oh, I kinda like minimalism, in songs too." Why did they both seem sad about it.

Breakfast was delicious, and it distracted them for a while.

When Harry was finishing up his last piece of vegan bacon ( he'd broken that to her after she'd praised it), chewing thoughtfully as a beaming smile lit up his face.

"I know- you find a song or album you feel like is exactly what you love, and I will too, and we can share. We may not ever like each other's books, but music, well I like all music." He was grinning and she thought the term firefly wasn't as apt as lightening bug.

"That's a great idea. Let's brainstorm and meet up in an hour." Her literal first thought was 1989, but she would not go there.

Nope.

Two hours later, she had a list of three albums, and trotted down the stairs to find him.

"Alright Styles, show me what you got!"

He looked up from the notebook he was scrawling in and he tried to smile.

"Hey, this is supposed to be fun Harry! It doesn't look like you are having fun."

He went to put the end of the pen in his mouth and moved it down to his chin. "This is harder than I thought. Only three? And I'm trying not to be too predictable."

"Just be honest," she shrugged, and plopped on the carpet next to him with her legs pretzeled, her air pods and her phone.

"I'll do one first. Are we doing the whole albums, or like songs that are great examples?" She asked as she opened her Spotify.

"Whole albums! What else do we have to do?" He quirked the more masculine side of his face and she realized she'd chosen to sit really close to him. It wasn't really necessary with the air pods, but he didn't seem to mind, he was leaning towards her.

"Alright, well let's go. I'll show you mine, then you show me yours, then again. Til we're done."

"Or naked!" He chuckled and she blushed, tried to hide it. He sobered and got back on task. "Can I have some honorable mentions?" He asked.

"Yeah, but those you gotta pick a song!" Elise nodded at her brilliant allowance.

"Deal!" He put out his hand and they shook. Then she placed an air pod in his hand.

"Let's go!" She pulled up the first album she had in mind. "This one is Oh Wonder's self titled."

"Oh, I know them a little."

By the end of it, Harry had scrawled his favorite songs, and downloaded a few.

"Good?" She asked.

"Yeah, they sound great together, and lots of metaphors."

"That's what I like!," she said.

"You'd like Arctic Monkeys, specifically AM." He told her, so she made a note of it. He'd already mentioned he liked them when he was younger. She knew of them, but they must have been much bigger in Britain or something, she'd download something.

And then he played her Astral Weeks, and they wound up laying back on the floor with the cord of his ear buds laying slackly between them. And she got what he meant about minimalism. She usually liked it wordy, got her emotion from lyrics, but she still felt a lot, even without the words.

"Alright, I feel like you are bringing the oldies, Styles. All of mine are this decade."

"Yeah, I thought about that, but I only have one from this decade."

She laughed, "I'll allow it. This one I'll bet you know."  She put on Hozier and if she thought sitting so close had been overwhelming, him singing in his lower register, essentially in her ear was wholly distracting. He knew most of the songs.

"I feel like it's not my favorite, but it's clearly amazing!" He said when it was over.

"Well, what's your favorite?" She sat up with him and they were facing each other, their knees were touching and her yoga pants were hot all the way up her thigh.

"This one." He spent a moment looking for his ear phones snake like cord and turned back to her. She was glad when he arranged them side by side before Harry Nilsson started to play.

"Like it?"

"Yeah-!" She butted into him with her shoulder. "He uses some figurative language." She raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose he does."

"But he does that sound thing you like." She mused.

"How do you know I like repeated sounds?" Oh, he looked amused.

"I like your first album." She confessed.

He bit his lip and dimpled and Elise had to turn away. This was normal. He was the only person she'd seen in days, and well he looked like, was, him. She was gonna forgive herself the butterflies. "Um," she picked her phone back up. "Do you want to get a snack? Or keep going. I need some water at least."

He was spooling up his cord and standing. "I got an idea." And he was gone before she could follow him. Elise sat for a moment. Should she follow him? He didn't really invite Her. Did you have to be invited to follow your de facto housemate? She supposed she'd just wait.

But that was an awful decision, because she just sat there and thought about how this quarantine day felt like the best date of her life. Dammit. She was gonna wake up tomorrow sad she wasn't in his bed. She could just tell. She was also probably going to have to touch herself to sleep. She knew exactly what she'd think about. It would be when she turned to her side and watched his mouth form around the deathless death lyric in Take Me To Church.

Elise was actually fanning herself by the time Harry came back in.

"Is it hot in here?" He asked.

"Oh, no, I was just dancing a little." God she was lame.

"Oh! Hold that thought for my last album. And I've brought provisions!" His eyebrows were so high and perfect. She liked his proud face.

He'd brought alcohol. That was exactly what her libido needed. Shit.

"Pick your poison. I have an excellent red, or we can just skip to the party with tequila shots."

"Yeah, no tequila, sun's still out."

"Oh, is this a rule of yours? No tequila until sundown." Why did he look like he found that hilarious?

"Not if you want me to keep my clothes on!" She resisted the urge to slap a hand over her mouth.

"Right!" he crowed. "Tequila it is!"

"No, no, I'll take wine." She pulled his hand down from opening the bottle of amber liquid and started on the darker bottle.

"You are a party pooper!" He laughed.

"Can we plan the tequila party for another day?"

"Oh, we should do that. I have a pool! We can make margaritas and lounge."

"Harry, it's March! In London," she added. Because it was definitely pool weather in Arizona.

"Well, I have a hot tub."

She swallowed and focused on getting the bottle opened. "Are you having what I'm having?"

"Yeah, I guess. But in a couple days, we are opening the other bottle, deal?" He handed her the waters he'd brought in too. She needed to drink that first, and between, and after. To slow her intake down.

"What's with you and hand shakes?" She laughed and handed him his glass instead of taking his dangerous palm.

"I dunno, gotta seal the deal!" He shrugged. "So what's next?"

"Right!" She scrounged to find both earbuds and they cheesed to the beginning notes of 'Red.'

"I already said you love her. Typical! And well, I can't blame you." He mused towards the end.

"Why?" She felt like that would be a slight, but he didn't say it like one. Typical stung just a little. Basic Arizona bitch sounded in her head.

"Just you like lyrics, and she is so clever and relatable, and I'm not an American, or a girl, but I imagine it's more specific to you." He titled his head.

That made her feel better. Was kinder than she'd been to herself. "Yeah, yeah, I've liked her since I was way younger. I saw her at a county fair really early on and fell in love."

"And you like this one better than her newer ones?" He asked. "I haven't gotten around to listening to Lover yet." He had a look that meant he may never. She wondered about that but decided to pull him from his dip in mood.

"Well, actually, 1989 is my favorite, but I thought it would be too weird to listen to that with you."

"Ha!" He burst out laughing at that, and they giggled helplessly, aided by the bottle of wine they'd finished. "Well, I'll thank you for that thoughtfulness. We need another bottle." He started towards the door. "But it's my favorite too!," he threw back over his shoulder as he got just around the door.

"I'll bet." She said to herself.

His last album was a surprise.

"I'm surpirsed it's not Stormzy Everybody here talks about him all the time." She mentioned when they started.

"Nah, though I love him, and his music, he's very clever. But Kendrick is more honest." They danced to the upbeat songs and Harry shocked her when he pulled her close and danced up on her a little. She tried to chalk it up to the wine, but the feeling of his thighs cradling her ass was gonna follow her into her bedroom, into sleep, and maybe forever.

By the end of the second bottle, they'd gotten the munchies and were raiding the fridge.

"Should we do take out?" He asked.

"Nah, let's cook something." And they spent an hour making squash stuffed with quinoa scented with maple syrup. He was a good cook too. Fucker.

"Can we do my honorable mentions now?" He asked after they had popped the third bottle of wine and were sleepy and full and a little wine drunk.

He was on the couch and she was sure her jaw was gonna unhinge when he stayed stretched out and opened his arms like he wanted her to come lay with him.

"Do you want to?" She made some idiotic motion between them.

"Yeah, I sat my headphones down in the kitchen and can't be fucked to go get them. We can just play it out. Come cuddle me."

How could she say no to that. Should she disclose her ear buds were nearby? What didn't he have ear buds? She went to him and laid down. Because the opportunity was too compelling.

They listened to Dark Side of the Moon, well he did and she mostly listened to his heart.

When he put on Otis Redding, well, she already thought she was in trouble. She was hoping he hadn't given her coronavirus, but if he kept acting like this, she was gonna have caught more than a bug, and she was sure it would last more than 14 days, or three weeks, or however long the world was on pause.

Feelings didn't have a pause.

She was trying to figure out if she was too tipsy to get herself off him gracefully, when she realized he was asleep. She looked up at his smooth face, all gorgeous angles and bright spots.

She was infected.

Elise was steady on her feet while escaping up to her room. She was less steady as she revisited her morning musings. Harry wasn't a Toru, he wasn't an Everyman, he wasn't like anybody she'd ever met.

He was lightning in the night.

Elise was surprised she hadn't gotten anxious yet? Normally she would be itching to go, do. She wasn't even missing the parks she had on her list of things to do. She felt content.

It must be that she felt excited most days to go downstairs, to see what she and Harry would get up to on any given day of their quarantine. She had loved dance time tonight, and she'd plug in headphones and share conspiratorial smiles over Harry Nilsson with Harry Styles any day.

There was a part of her that wanted to listen to this with him. Have him explain it to her. She'd liked it the time she had listened. Liked the singles enough to stream and download them.

Elise imagines laying next to him on the couch as the"dun-dunnnunas" started playing in her ears.

She didn't think much at any sensations for the next forty minutes, she let herself drift away on Harry's Fine Line. She had to listen again to answer her earlier question about whether Harry was melancholy or merry.

He was both, she decided.

Maybe he just needed to see that he was a fine line too. And the duality between sad boy and pop star was what made him everybody's favorite fixation.

Elise knew she was a fine line as well, she hoped she ended up alright.

[awkbo0b]

Two of a Kind: 3

A/N hello everyone! here’s part three. I didnt want to keep you waiting as long as long as i did for part two so here is it is! Here are the other two parts in case you haven’t read those yet, Two of a Kind:1, Two of a Kind:2

I’ve made a tag also for this story! #TwoOfAKind

Warning: Drugs, swearing, vomit, slow burn ;)

~~

The next morning I wake up to Tony running across the room and slamming the bathroom door. She has been up all night puking her guts out. I get up to go check on her. “Need some more water?” I ask through the door. After some dry heaving Tony makes out a small please.

After helping Tony back into bed and getting some water in her, I lay back down on bed i made on the floor. I have my own guest room here but with how sick Tony is, I couldn’t leave her to fend for herself.

Last night plays over in my head, the group of pogues were the best. Really felt like I could be myself around them. Plus once Tony started feeling sick, they all helped me get her home in one piece. Pope even carried her up the stairs so we wouldn’t wake any of our parents. Kie said she could grab our cooler so I gave her my number so she can let me know.

I catch myself thinking about JJ, his little snarky remarks and jokes, the way he was smile when he would catch me looking at him, just they way his lips look when when he’s talking. I roll into my stomach and groan into my pillow.

“sure hope you’re not going to end up sick, because i’m not going to be able to help you,” Tony’s voice is weak from being up almost all night.

“No I smoked so no hangover for me.” i say up to Tony.

“You lucky bitch.” Tony isn’t the one to swear, so her voice of words have me laughing my ass off.

“You jealous bitch,” I’m laying on my back again. Tony somehow picks herself up to leave over her bed to look at me.

“You’re not wrong,” Tony begins to laugh but then  winces, “damn, got a huge headache too.”

“What did we learn?” I ask smiling up at Tony.

“When I say I should wait, i shouldn’t drink anymore.” Tony states then throws herself back into her pillows. “I was suppose to show you around today.” There’s a hint of regret in her voice. I pull myself up onto the end of her bed.

“I’m going to be here all summer, don’t even worry about it,” I say but the look Tony is giving me says she doesn’t believe me. “Besides, I have some inspiration for a drawing so I’ll just work on that today,” I shrug trying to give off the vibe ‘it’s not a big deal’. Tony’s eyes light up.

“You’re going to start a piece of art?” Tony is now sitting up as straight as she can.

“Yeah.” I smile.

“It’s been so long, can i do the honors?” Tony places her hands like she is praying, i give a small sigh.

“Sure, why not?” I hop off the bed and make my way to the gues bedroom that has all of my belongings. I grab my notebook and favorite pen, and head back to Tony’s room. I sit back in the bed and open to a blank page.” The idea I have is going to be horizontal,” I turn the book on its and hand my pen to Tony, “try to stay in the center for me,” Tony takes the pen and begins to make some scribbles. Once she’s finished I take the notebook back and look to see the mess. I then look back at Tony who is holding her head up high and proud, when she instantly goes pale and has to run for the bathroom again. I let out a sigh and follow her.

~

After taking a shower and getting dressed I text Kie, ‘hey did you end up grabbing that cooler? if not i was going to make my way back to that beach anyways!’.

I place my phone facing up on the bathroom counter an begin to apply light make up along with some sunscreen. My phone buzzes, ‘actually I think JJ got it last night, here’s his number’ in a separate text came in containing the phone number. I text Kie thanks and then save the new number into my phone.

‘hey, its Mae from last night, Kie said you might have my cooler?’ I hesitate before pushing send, should I make it a little more flirty? Did I make it seem too flirty? What if he was only being nice last night because I caught him with his friends and didn’t want to come off as a dick? I shake away the thoughts and press the send button, I have never been this scared to text a boy before, I’m not the one to get scared. It’s a weird feeling.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” I ask my reflection in the mirror. I laugh quietly to myself, then jump at the sound of my phone buzzing.

‘Ya I have it, meet me at the boneyard’ JJ’s text read, I smile at the words, trying to push the idea out of my head that I might be into him.

I pack my notebook and some pens and my hammock into my back pack, then my pipe and travel size jar of weed, just incase. I slip on some shoes and make my way to Tony’s room. I open the door to see her still laying in her bed. “Hey dude, I’m going to go out to draw. Text me if you need anything.” I see Tony’s arm shoot up with a thumbs up. I laugh and shut the door.

~

I had set up my hammock and pulled out my notebook to begin drawing. The scribble that Tony had started for me was perfect. It stayed in the center like I asked her to, but it was low enough where I wanted it. I begin to think about the bonfire last night, I take a deep breath and then begin my work. The small curvy lines at the top I begin to shape them to look like flames. Once I did that a couple times I decided I wanted to make a glowing halo above the soon to be fire, and draw an arch about three inches from the scribble. The lines that are harsher and seem to have more corner than curves, I begin to shape them into logs, adding some knots into them. I see a curvy line I haven’t touched yet and the idea with some taller flames came to mind. I start about half way, tracing the curves that Tony has started, then breaking into untouched territory of white space.

“Hey!” I flinch, taking my hand, and my pen, about the arch. I turn to see blondie. “What you doing there?” I notice him squinting his eyes from the glare of the sun from the beach.

“Well, I was drawing until you scared me.” I try to make sure my tone doesn’t come off rude. JJ reaches my hammock, places the cooler down by his feet and looks over to my notebook.

“Damn, I caused that?” He uses his finger to point and to touch the line that obvioulsy goes way to high.

“Yep, you sure did.” I respond slightly laughing.

“Fuck, my bad dude.” JJ’s  face says it all, he really does feel bad. And I start to feel bad, he obviously doesn’t know that mistakes in my art are what make my art so different.

“Honestly, I like it.” JJ’s face is full on confusion. I look back down to the line. I take my pen to the tip and draw downwards completeing a large flame. “I’ll be drawing in some larger flames to match it, not big deal.” I shrug and then close my note book. “Thanks for grabbing the cooler.” I mention looking down at it then back up to JJ.

JJ’s face still seems to be uneasy and unsure where to take the converstion.

“This is when you say you’re welcome.” I whisper trying to lighten the mood. Once JJ catches the hint, his whole body loosens up.

“Oh shit yeah, You’re welcome. Its a nice cooler. It probably would have gotten stolen if we left it here over night.” JJ states then smiles.He looks at my notebook then back to me. “You might get this a lot, but do you mind showing me you’re art work?” JJ’s hand motions to it.

Talking about my art is not my favorite thing to do. It’s like someone asking you to stand there naked while they look at every scar and winkle in your skin. Makes me feel too vunerable.

“How about you show me around and I’ll think about it.” I hope out of my hammock and stuff my notebook into my backpack. I stand up straight to see JJ smirking at me. Oh my god his face is beautiful. I have to refrain from shaking my head, stop Mae you are NOT into him. “What?” I ask.

“Thought you said last night you don’t need a guide.” JJ raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest. I roll my eyes trying to come up with a quick remark to put him back in his place.

“Oh please, if I wanted to see touristy sites I would have called up one of the pretty boys from last night. I want to see the heart of this place. So,” I take a step closer to JJ, tilting my head to the side. JJ still has a smirk on his face but I notice him look at my lips. “I’m asking a local.” I make my last word as breathy as I could, then back away to begin taking down my hammock.

“So does this mean you pick pogues over kooks?” JJ ask.

I turn back around to see his face slightly flushed with red. “If that means I can have as much fun as I did last night with you guys, then definitely.” I nod with my hands on my hips.

“There’s a rule among the pogues fyi.” JJ informs, “pogues don’t make on pogues, so,”

“It’s a good thing I won’t have to worry about you hitting on me then.” I cut JJ off and give him a wink. “Now come on,” I place my hammock in my back pack, “You should show me a place only the locals know.” I slide my bag onto my back and wait for JJ.

JJ licks him lips as he looks towards the water. “You are something else Mae,” JJ thinks out loud, “Lets go. I’ll show you around.” JJ points over his back and grabs the cooler with his other hand. “Lets fill this up so we can have some food and drinks for the day.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” I say and JJ leads the way back to town.

~

Thank you for reading, I hope you are loving it as much as me! continue to like and reblog, the more notes I get the faster the next part will come out!

What are some request that you guys would like to see between Mae and JJ? I’m all ears and will give credit due if I decide to incorporate it into the story! So send some in!!!

Love you guys, talk to you soon!

UPDATE: I HAVE MOVED THIS FANFIC TO WATTPAD, HERE IS THIS LINK! LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR TE NOTES!

[spn-safeandsound]

01. The Beginning

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x01; Pilot

Word Count: 10,001

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, dirty thoughts

Author’s Note: Here is the first chapter of my Supernatural rewrite! I hope you like Julia! Just know that more of her personality is shown the further we go along. Let me know what you think. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Throwing the damp motel towel on the dresser, Dean wandered over to the bed he didn't plan on using to zip open his duffel of clothes. He quickly pulled on one of the last clean pairs of jeans he had and a black t-shirt that he sniffed to make sure didn't stink. He had only managed to slip the necklace Sam gave him years ago over his head when there was a knock at the door.

Dean paused, narrowing his eyes over at the door covered in chipped red paint. He had just paid for the room and didn't plan on staying more than a couple of hours. He didn't think that gave anyone much time to know that he was in town. Besides, the only two people he knew in Palo Alto didn't even know he was there.

He grabbed his gun and held it cautiously behind his back, peeking through the peephole. He didn't see much, just the top of a girl's head. And then the girl stepped onto her tip toes and waved at him, knowing that he was watching her.

"Trick or treat!"

Dean pressed his lips together and set his gun back down on the table. He opened the door and set his unimpressed expression on the younger woman, who smiled sweetly at him.

"What are you doing here, Julia?"

Julia Petersen didn't drop her smile as she slipped past him into the motel room. Dean rolled his eyes, already exasperated with her, and shut the door. He looked her up and down as she paced around the room, studying the furniture with a curious gaze.

She was dressed in a black t-shirt with a ridiculous cartoon ghost on it and khaki shorts that made her legs seem longer than they actually looked. When she turned toward the bathroom, he got a look at her ass and almost groaned before controlling himself.

This is Julia, he reminded himself, cute little Julia who is six fucking years younger than you.

"Julia."

"Right," Julia shook her head to focus and turned back to Dean. "I was looking for some candy but I guess someone's not in the mood for Halloween."

"Halloween's stupid."

"Yeah, I know," Julia rolled her eyes and wandered over to his duffle bag. "All you Winchesters are the same."

"Woah, hey," Dean rushed toward her and pulled her hands away from his clothes. "Keep your hands to yourself, Junior."

"Sorry, I forgot about the weird boundaries you have," Julia gave him an innocent smile and sat on the bed.

"They're not weird. Everyone has them."

"Not me."

"That's cause you're crazy," Dean playfully snapped at her

"That's true," she conceded. "Uh, what was your question again?"

Dean sighed impatiently. It had been almost a year since he had seen Julia and he was already getting annoyed with her. He wouldn't say that she was annoying all the time but she was a kid. A kid who never stopped talking, was always distracted, and the human embodiment of sunshine.

"What are you doing here," he repeated. "and how the hell did you find me?"

"Oh, I tracked your phone," Julia informed him. "and I'm here because Dad left me a message to find you."

"Luke told you to find me?" Dean asked thoughtfully.

If Luke had asked his youngest daughter to find Dean, he probably knew about his dad being missing. Why else would he want Julia to find him? She was already with Sam so it wasn't like she needed protection.

"Yup."

"Well, what'd he say?"

"He said that John was missing and that you needed my help to find him," Julia informed him, scratching her cheek nervously. He caught her tell, having experience from over the years.

"You're lying," he pointed out; she pouted. "Seriously, Julia. Come on."

"I'm not lying about that," Julia stated honestly. "but...I did kind of have a bad feeling."

"What kind of bad feeling? Like you ate something bad for lunch or you forgot to do your taxes?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

Julia's smile slipped from her face. "The kind of feeling where I knew I needed to find you. My dad's message just confirmed it."

Dean appraised her, pressing his lips together. When she was growing up, Julia had bad feelings all the time. There was one time that she knew that her older sister, Beth, had broken her arm and when he used to indulge Sam and Julia and play hide and seek with them, she would find him every time without fail. It was common knowledge that she had some kind of sixth sense but no one really talked about it.

"Okay," he accepted her answer. "Is that it?"

"That's it," Julia nodded, a smile back on her face. "What time were you going to talk to Sam? I wouldn't wait long because we're going out tonight. Well, maybe it would be best if you waited to talk to him until after he was drunk. He might be more likely to hear you out. It's gonna be hard to convince him to go with us but—"

"Hold your horses, Junior," Dean cut her off. "I already had a plan."

"And that is?"

"Private."

Julia fixed him with an unimpressed stare. "If you break into my apartment I'm gonna kill you."

"I won't break into your apartment," Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not a heathen."

Julia hummed, giving him a doubtful look.

"Okay, anything else you needed?" Dean sighed.

"Nope," Julia jumped up from the bed walked toward the door. "I'll be packed and ready by the time you come to get us."

"Sure thing," Dean nodded sarcastically. "Now leave."

"Oh, one more thing—"

"Nope. Bye," Dean gently pushed her out of the room and shut the door before she could finish what she was going to say.

"Dean!"

-

-

Julia heard the crash out in the living room and sighed, shaking her head as she finished shoving a pair of boots into one of her duffle bags. She had warned Dean not to break into the apartment and he had said he wouldn't but he lied to her face. She had to start getting better at detecting lies, especially if she was gonna be trained to be a hunter.

She was actually excited to go on the road with Dean. She had wanted to be a hunter for a long time. It had been years and her father still hadn't trained her like he trained her older sister, Abby. He had told her to get an education, which she did, and then they'd see. Well, it was now that time and she was itching to learn everything.

Her family had always been in the business of hunting supernatural creatures. Her father's side, the Alexanders, was a well-known family in the world of the supernatural as they had a special talent for getting rid of demons. Her mother's side of the family—the Petersens—were famous, too, though not for the same reason.

Her mother's family owned Petersen Sports Co., a sports store that catered to regular citizens who needed soccer balls and football pads but also to hunters who needed salt rounds, holy water, and all the guns and knives they could buy. The secret hunter part of the store also provided ways to get ahold of other hunters and provided lawyers in case something went south during a hunt. It was a family business, with her older brother Levi as head of sales, Beth and her husband—Taylor—as lawyers for the company, and her Aunt Maggie as CEO.

Either way, she was a bit of a legacy. And, since Abby was the only child out of the four who had gone into the hunting business so far, Julia had to step up.

Julia finished packing by setting her backpack on top of her other bags and left the room. As soon as she entered the hallway, she ran into Jess, Sam's girlfriend and one of her closest friends.

"Jules, I think Sam's fighting off a robber," Jess said hurriedly, cheeks flushed. "Should we call the police?"

"No, no, it's fine," Julia hurried to assure her. "Sam and I were expecting someone."

"At one in the morning?"

"...Yes," Julia laughed awkwardly. "Come on, I'll show you."

Jess nodded and by the time they entered the living room, the fighting between Sam and Dean had stopped. Julia flipped on the lights in the living room, illuminating the Winchester brothers so she and Jess could see them clearly.

"Sam?" Jess called her boyfriend's name, looking wearily between him and his older brother.

"Jess, hey," Sam sighed and introduced her to Dean. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait," Jess paused, giving Julia a curious look; Julia nodded. "your brother, Dean?"

Dean grinned sleazily at her, his eyes flitting up and down Jess' model figure. She wasn't dressed the most modestly but it was nighttime and Julia's usual pajamas showed just as much skin.

"I love the Smurfs," Dean complimented her, gesturing to the low-cut top Jess was wearing. "You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."

Julia rolled her eyes while Jess gave him an unimpressed smile. "Just let me put something on."

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it," Dean shook his head coyly. "Seriously."

"Dean, stop being a creep," Julia sighed, smirking at the annoyed look he sent her.

"Mind your own, Junior," he snarked at her and then addressed Jess again. "Anyway, I've gotta borrow my brother and this dwarf here—" Julia scoffed in offense. "—to talk about some private family business. Nice meeting you."

"No," Sam objected, walking over to Jess' other side, wrapping an arm around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Dean looked over to Julia and she shrugged, giving him the choice of whether or not he would divulge what was going on. He must have decided that he would just tell Sam anyway because he gave in.

"Okay," he nodded. "Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So, he's working overtime on a Miller-Time shift," Sam shrugged, not worried about his estranged father. "He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean pressed his lips together and looked at his feet for a brief second before looking back at Sam. "Dad's on a hunting trip," he elaborated. "and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's face went blank like it usually did when Julia brought up their families and what they did for a living.

"Jess, excuse us."

-

"What did Dean mean by his dad being on a hunting trip?" Jess asked as Julia tied her hair up in a messy bun and packed her toiletries that she had almost forgotten. "Sam seemed pretty upset about it."

"Well, John Winchester had always been a fan of hunting," Julia sighed, scratching her cheek. "Big game, as far as I know. Usually he gets drunk and passes out for a few days before heading back home."

Jess made an indignant noise. "Charming."

"Yeah, no kidding," Julia agreed, giving her an amused smile. "That's John, all right."

"Poor Sam," Jess sighed as they moved back to Julia's room; Julia made a noise of agreement. "So, why do you have to go with them again?"

"My dad called earlier and asked me to," Julia informed her. "I found Dean earlier today and it seems like he's really concerned."

"Well, how long are you gonna be gone?" Jess' eyes scoured over Julia's two duffle bags and backpack. "You're packed for a long time."

"I'll be back by Christmas," she assured the blonde. "and Sam will be home in time to make his interview. I'll make sure of it."

Jessica sighed heavily but nodded, knowing that Sam would probably give in and go with his brother and Julia for the weekend.

"Just be safe, okay?" she requested. "For me?"

"Course I will," Julia gave her a quick hug and grabbed one of her duffle bags, along with her backpack. "I'll send Sam up, okay?"

"Okay," Jess nodded. "Bye, Jules."

"See you later, Jess."

Julia left the apartment and made her way down the stairs, through the gate, and to the parking lot where she assumed Dean parked. She spotted the two giants across the lot and quickly approached them just as Dean was convincing Sam to listen about the case John was hunting.

Dean nodded at her in greeting and grabbed her bag, dropping it onto the concrete before unlocking his trunk. He pulled up the flap that hid the weapons underneath and began rummaging through the various guns, spell ingredients, knives, and other things necessary for hunting.

"Where the fuck did I put that thing?" Dean mumbled, looking for something.

Julia and Sam exchanged a pointed look, knowing that Dean was a slob for the most part, and waited patiently for Dean to grab whatever he was looking for.

"So, when your dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Julia asked him curiously.

"I was working my own gig," Dean answered. "Some voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

Dean gave him a pointed look. "I'm twenty-six, dude," he located a manila folder and pulled it out of the trunk, grabbing some papers that he had printed off. "All right, here we go. So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California."

"About a month ago, this guy went missing," he continued, handing some of the articles to Sam and the rest to Julia. "They found his car but he vanished, completely M.I.A.."

Sam scanned the article on top of his pile. "So maybe he was kidnapped."

"This article is from April," Julia spoke up, showing Sam the articles she had been going through. "And this one is from December of '04."

"There's one for '03, '98, '92," Dean added. "ten of them over the past twenty years. All men, all same five mile stretch of road. It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, but," he pulled a recording device out of the trunk. "then I get this voicemail yesterday."

He pressed play and John Winchester's voice came out of the small speaker. "Dean...something big is starting to happen.  I think it's serious. I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may...Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam looked to Dean.

Dean smiled, pleased. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"

Sam shook his head while Julia chuckled.

"All right, I slowed the message down, ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got..." he pressed play again.

It was a woman's voice this time. "I can never go home."

Julia shivered at the creepy voice while Dean looked at Sam expectantly.

"Never go home," Sam repeated thoughtfully.

Dean nodded and set the recording device back into the trunk, along with the articles he had collected. He threw Julia's bag in, shut the trunk, and leaned on it, giving Sam his version of a guilt trip and puppy-dog eyes.

"You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you or asked you for a thing."

Sam sighed, quickly giving in. "All right, I'll go. I'll help you find him."

Dean smiled happily.

"But I have to get back first thing Monday," Sam informed him, turning away to walk back to his apartment. "Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean called after him

"I have an interview," Sam told him.

"What, a job interview?" Dean shrugged. "Skip it."

"It's a law school interview," Sam said proudly. "and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Julia saw that Dean looked a little impressed.

Sam nodded. "So, we got a deal or not?"

Dean didn't say anything but Sam got the gist that he agreed with him. Julia told him to bring down her last bag as he ran off to the apartment stairs, getting a wave of confirmation in return.

"How many damn bags do you need, anyway?" Dean asked Julia as she turned toward him with a happy smile.

"Three," she told him simply. "Clothes, shoes, toiletries, books, schoolwork, computer."

"Jesus Christ," Dean sighed as he stood from his position against the Impala's trunk and started walking to the driver's seat. "You're in the back, shortcake."

Julia grumbled, already annoyed with the short jokes, and slipped into the backseat. She pulled her pillow into her chest and snuggled into it, getting ready for the long drive to Jericho.

-

The breeze was cool and welcoming as they stopped at a gas station, just outside of Jericho, California. It was still early in the morning, around seven, but all three of them were already up. Dean was inside, getting some things to eat and drink while Sam went through Dean's cassette collection and Julia read through her emails.

"Did you see these, J?" Sam asked her, sorting through the cardboard box the cassettes were kept in. "He's got cassettes. I don't think he's heard of a CD before."

"Uh, Dean doesn't like change, remember?" Julia shrugged. "It's not really surprising he has every old white man's collection of music."

Sam laughed and continued his search. Eventually, Dean came out of the gas station, carrying a plastic bag of goodies he had scored.

"Want breakfast?" he asked them as he started pumping gas.

"No, thanks," Sam mumbled.

"Oh, did you get the—?"

"Cherry cheese Danish and apple juice," Dean cut Julia off, slipping them through her open window.

"Thanks!" Julia immediately tore open the Danish, taking a large bite out of it.

"So, how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asked cautiously. "You and Dad still running credit card scams."

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career," Dean excused himself, finishing with the gas. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah and what names did you write on the application this time?"

"Uh," Dean slipped into his seat. "Burt Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

Sam scoffed. "Sounds about right," he shook his head. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?"

"Because they're cassette tapes," Julia spoke up, finished her breakfast with a sip of apple juice. "And then there's the music itself."

"Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica," Sam listed the tapes he had been through. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Ooh, good one," Julia giggled.

Dean gave them annoyed looks, not liking the fact that they were gaining up on him, and grabbed the Metallica tape from the box. "Well, house rules, Sammy," he put the tape in the stereo. "Driver picks the music, shotgun—and backseat—shut their cakeholes."

Julia rolled her eyes while Sam gave Dean an exasperated look.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," he reminded Dean as the tape started, not fond of his childhood nickname. "It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you!" Dean said loudly, a cheeky smile on his face. "The music's too loud!"

Julia laughed and leaned forward so her chin rested on the seat between the brothers. "Don't worry, Sam, you weren't chubby when you were twelve."

Sam gave her a flat look. "Thanks, J."

Julia winked at him and leaned back in her seat. While Dean drove closer to Jericho, Sam took the time to call the hospital and the morgue in town to see if there was anyone matching John's description. It was only when they were five miles out of town that he got off the phone.

"All right," he sighed. "so, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or the morgue. So, that's something, I guess."

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded. Julia shut her Bible, as she had started to reread Romans for her New Testament class, when they came upon the bridge that went into Jericho. There was what looked to be an abandoned car, a cop car ahead with its lights on, and a couple of police officers milling about.

"Check it out," Dean pointed the scene out to Sam and Julia.

He pulled to a stop at the side of the road and leaned over to the passenger side of the car, opening the glovebox and pulling out a box. The box contained numerous fake FBI badges with Dean and John's names on them; Dean picked a federal marshal badge out of the box and smirked at Sam and Julia.

"Let's go."

Julia didn't think that plaid and jeans—and in her case, a t-shirt and shorts—were the best clothing they could be wearing while they pretended that they were agents of the law. She didn't even have a badge, nor did Sam, and they were all kind of young to be federal marshals. Nevertheless, she got out of the car and followed Sam and Dean over to the police officers on the bridge.

"All right, first lesson," Dean quickly looked back at Julia. "Stay quiet and observe."

Julia fought the urge to roll her eyes and smiled brightly at him, acting like she was zipping her lips. Dean sighed heavily and continued on, giving Sam a pointed look that Julia caught but didn't react to.

As they got closer to the bridge, they saw that the officers had search and rescue down in the river, looking for the missing man.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints," one of the officers told his partner. "Spotless. It's almost too clean."

The other officer nodded. "So, this kid, Troy, he's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?"

"She's putting up missing posters downtown," the first officer informed him, shaking his head.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean announced their presence, raising his voice so the officers could hear him.

The second officer looked toward them, straightening up so he stood taller. "And who are you?"

Dean held up his badge and quickly closed it before the officer had a good look. "Federal marshals," he gestured between himself and Sam before pointing back at Julia. "Intern."

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" the officer asked suspiciously.

Ha! Julia thought. I knew it.

Dean chuckled. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," he walked over to the victim's car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," the officer confirmed. "about a mile up the road. There have been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked him.

The officer nodded. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Julia noticed Dean gesturing for her; she left Sam's side and walked around the car where he was standing. He pointed into the car, mumbling for her to take a look to see if she found anything.

She did as she was told, searching the front seats and dashboard of the car as best as she could while not touching anything. She didn't see anything particular; no blood, scratches in the leather, or dirt on the floorboards. Like the officer said, it was spotless.

"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean spoke up.

"No, not as far as we can tell."

"So, what's the theory?" Sam wondered.

"Honestly, we don't know," the officer shrugged. "Serial murder, kidnapping ring..."

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys," Dean commented with a scoff. Julia looked over at him in shock while he winced, Sam having stomped painfully on his foot.

"Thank you for your time," Sam told the police officer with a gracious nod.

Julia hurried to his side as the three of them started walking hurrying off the bridge. Once they were a few feet away from the Impala, Dean took the opportunity to slap the back of Sam's head.

"Ow!" Sam hissed. "What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean retorted.

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam and stepped forward, cutting him and Julia off so they couldn't walk any further. "Come on, they don't really know what's going on," he stated. "We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

Julia's eyes swept past the brothers, wincing when she saw three older men walking toward them. She cleared her throat loudly, getting Dean and Sam's attention; Dean whipped around to face the men himself.

"Can I help you three?" the man who looked to be the sheriff asked them sternly.

"No, sir, we were just leaving," Julia shot them a dazzling smile. The sheriff almost melted in her presence while the FBI agents walked past Sam and Dean to go question the police themselves.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully," Dean nodded at the agents as he grabbed Julia's arm and pulled her past the sheriff; Sam followed them. "Nice work, shortcake."

"I have one of those smiles, I guess," Julia shrugged sheepishly as she slid into her seat.

Dean scoffed. "I guess you do."

-

-

Dean, Sam, and Julia walked through the town square, searching for the girl they overheard the police officers talk about. Amy was her name and she was the victim's girlfriend who was hanging missing posters up over town.

It wasn't hard to find the girl, especially in a town this small. The police officer had been telling the truth when he said that they knew everyone around here.

"I bet that's her," Dean pointed to a young brunette hanging up posters outside of a post office. They approached her carefully, trying not to scare her off. "You must be Amy."

Amy had to be only a couple years younger than Julia and around the same height. She was dressed in dark clothing and had dark make-up on like she was taking grieving to a whole other level.

"Yeah," the girl confirmed.

"Troy told us about you," Dean went with the easiest story he could come up with and introduced himself, Sam, and Julia. "We're his uncles—I'm Dean, this is Sammy—and our little sister, Julia."

Amy gave him a skeptical look and started walking away. "He never mentioned you."

Dean quickly followed her. "Yeah, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him, too," Sam took over; Amy stopped walking to look up at him. "and we're kinda asking around."

"Hey," a girl Amy's age walked up to her. "are you okay?"

"Yeah," Amy assured her.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked her politely.

It wasn't hard to say yes to Sam's puppy-dog eyes so Amy agreed to answer some questions for them. They settled at a nearby diner and on the walk over, Dean quietly answered some of the questions Julia had for him. He informed her about what kind of questions to ask people—like whether they noticed any cold spots or anything strange that occurred around them.

He had to admit, despite her ADHD, Julia was a quick learner. She soaked the information in like a sponge and it impressed him a little bit.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy informed them once she and her friend were settled at a table with Dean, Sam, and Julia. "He was driving home. He said he could call me right back and..." she hesitated sadly. "He never did."

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam took over the questioning, seeming to have a better response than Dean did.

"No," Amy shook her head. "Nothing that I can remember."

"I like your necklace," Julia suddenly spoke up, pointing to the pentagram around Amy's neck.

Amy sadly smiled down at the charm. "Troy gave it to me," she sniffled and laughed a little. "Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff."

Julia grinned at her. "Actually, it means the opposite," she corrected her, recalling some of the information she had learned in one of her classes. "A pentagram is protection against evil. It's really powerful if you believe in that kind of thing."

Dean pursed his lips at her, unimpressed with her change of discussion. "Okay, thanks, Unsolved Mysteries," he snapped at her, earning a frown in return, before addressing the girls, "Here's the deal, ladies, the way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So, if you heard anything..."

Amy and her friend exchanged hesitant looks that Dean caught.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's just—" Amy's friend, Rachel, started. "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean asked at the same time.

"It's kind of this local legend," Rachel sighed. "This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes and whoever picks her up—well, they disappear forever."

Dean and Sam exchanged knowing looks. Not all myths were based on fact, but most of them were. If there was a local legend around town, there had to be some truth to it—even if some of the details were blurred.

-

-

It was nighttime by the time Julia, Dean, and Sam headed back to the bridge on Centennial Highway. After getting some information at the library about the so-called hitchhiker the girl was talking about at the diner, they headed there to take a look around. The bridge was much spookier at night, especially once they found out about this mysterious hitchhiker.

The article they had found was about Constance Welch, who committed suicide at the bridge in the eighties. She took a dive into the river and drowned only an hour or so after both of her kids died in the bathtub. Her husband had said that she just couldn't handle her grief.

After Dean parked the impala on one side of the bridge, the three of them walked the length of it. Julia bit her lip nervously as she looked around, hoping that this spirit wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. Then again, she wanted the training, so some of her nerves were from anticipation.

"So," Dean walked over to the ledge of the bridge, looking down at the black river below. "this is where Constance took the swan dive."

Sam nodded and leaned against the railing beside him. "So, you think Dad would have been here?"

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

Julia wasn't assured by Dean's statement. "What now?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him," Dean informed her, his eyes darting toward Sam. "It might take a while."

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by—" Sam started to remind him but Dean cut him off with a nod.

"Monday," he recalled somewhat sourly. "Right, the interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot," Dean lied. "You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer and marry your girl?"

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" Dean started to goad him, irritated and a little jealous that Sam could leave hunting so easily. "I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy," Dean's tone was dripping with sarcasm. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turned and started walking away, knowing that he pushed his little brother's buttons. He was right; Sam started following him at an angry pace while Julia hovered nervously at the same spot by the railing. The conversation was none of her business and even though she was definitely going to eavesdrop, that didn't mean she was going to interrupt.

"And who's that?" Sam stomped after Dean.

"You're one of us."

"No," Sam's voice was sharp as he caught up with his brother, staring down at him with a glare. "I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

Dean paused to confront him. "You have a responsibility to—"

"To Dad and his crusade?" Sam scoffed. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like and what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone and she isn't coming back."

Dean lunged at Sam, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the railing on the other side of the bridge. Julia gasped softly and started to rush over, practically feeling the rage in Dean's veins.

"Dean!"

There was a long pause as Julia gently touched his elbow. Dean calmed down a little bit and quietly warned Sam, "Don't talk about her like that."

He roughly let go of Sam's collar and brushed off Julia's hand, turning to walk back to the Impala. He stopped in his tracks, seeing a woman dressed in a white dress standing on top of the railing of the bridge, her skirt blowing in the wind.

"Sam, Jules..."

Julia gawked at the woman as she looked over, made direct eye contact with both of the Winchesters, and jumped down into the river. Dean, Sam, and Julia took off running to where the woman jumped, hearing no splash and seeing no one down in the river.

"Where is she?" Julia asked loudly, her nerves wracked.

"I don't know," Sam shook his head, his eyes still searching the water below them.

The sound of an engine roaring caught their attention. Julia looked over, her eyes widening in horror when she saw that the Impala had started up with no help. She looked over at Dean in confusion, sincerely hoping that it was just a carjacker and not the spirit messing with them.

"What the fuck?"

'Who's driving your car?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean simply reached into his jeans and pulled out his car keys.

"Oh, no," Julia whimpered.

Whoever—or whatever—was in the Impala pressed on the gas. The car sped forward, going way too quickly, and started driving toward them. Sam grabbed Julia's arm and urged her to run as he and Dean took off running.

Julia ran sometimes when she had the time but that was nothing like running for your life. She had adrenaline pumping through her veins as she sped up to keep up with the brothers, almost overtaking Dean. The car was too fast, however, and they had to jump.

Dean vaulted over the railing and dove into the river. As Sam jumped, too, Julia ran behind him and, before she could even process what she was doing, grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

Sam looked up at her in surprise as she grunted, half of her body practically hanging off the railing so she could keep him from dropping into the water below.

"Oh, my God, you're so heavy!"

Sam scrambled to reach up, grabbing the bottom of the railing so some of his weight was relieved from her. He easily climbed up with Julia's help; once he was back on his feet and Julia was wincing at the strain in her muscles, they looked into the river to see if Dean was okay.

"Dean?"

"Dean, are you alive?"

"Dean!"

"Are you okay?"

"Dean?" Sam and Julia chorused together.

They heard an annoyed groan before, "What?"

"Hey, are you all right?" Sam called down to him, relieved that his brother hadn't drowned in the nasty-looking river.

Dean crawled onto the muddy bank and made an 'okay' gesture. "I'm fucking super."

Julia broke into a relieved snicker and Sam chuckled, growing amused and joining in

They didn't stay at the bridge long after Dean pulled himself off the bank and walked back up to the highway. He didn't waste time waving the other two into the car so they could drive back to town and get a motel room for the night.

Once at the closest motel, Dean took a few minutes to check out the Impala for any damage.

"Everything okay with Baby?" Julia asked him tentatively, wrinkling at the horrible smell wafting off his muddy hair and clothes.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it seems fine now," Dean sighed and shut the hood. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!"

Sam smiled at him, amused. "Well, I guess she doesn't want us digging around," he commented; Dean scoffed in agreement. "So, where's the job gonna take us now?"

Dean huffed and threw his arms into the air, frustrated. At the same time, Julia gagged, the smell coming from the mud covering Dean making her feel nauseous.

The brothers looked at her expectantly and she shrugged, covering her nose. "You should take a shower," she advised Dean. "You really stink."

Dean glared at her. "Thanks for that, Junior."

Julia gave him a sweet smile as he rolled his eyes and Sam chuckled. Dean pulled out his wallet and started toward the motel office, Sam and Julia dutifully following after him. Once at the front desk, he threw his credit card on the counter.

"One room, please."

The old man working the desk gave Dean a reluctant look-over and then grabbed the card, reading the name on the front. "You guys having a reunion or something?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian," the man informed them. "He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

Julia looked at Sam and Dean, surprised, while Dean made an expression that told her that he was thinking he should have known his dad would rent out a room. Sam quickly made an excuse that they were coming to check on their father while Dean paid for another room.

Once they had their room key, the three of them went straight to the room that John rented out, picking the lock. Sam yanked Dean into the room after him and Julia and firmly shut the door.

Julia looked around the room, her eyes wide. The room was an absolute mess that made her skin itch; there were clothes all over the place, numerous papers taped to the walls, and old food sitting around. Dean turned on the lamp closest to him so they'd have more light to look around, picking up a half-eaten burger on the table below it.

He sniffed it curiously and silently gagged at the rank smell while Sam and Julia stepped over the salt ring on the floor to get a better look at the walls. "I don't think he's been here for a couple of days."

"Salt, cat's-eye shells," Sam listed as he looked at the salt on the floor. "He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

In the back of her mind, Julia remembered that salt was like a barrier for all sorts of supernatural creatures, but at the moment her focus was on the papers taped to the wall. There were a bunch of articles about the disappearances over the last decade, as well as some local lore that he dug up.

"What have you got here?" Sam walked over to her.

Julia wrinkled her nose as Dean came over to take a closer look as well, and said, "Centennial Highway victims."

"I don't get it," Dean mumbled. "I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities...There's always a connection, right?"

Julia gave him a questioning look. "So, what do these guys have in common?"

Dean shrugged at her and Julia frowned, looking back at the profiles John had made for the victims.

"Dad figured it out," Sam spoke up, having moved across the room where more papers were taped on the wall.

"What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did," Sam gestured to the wall where the article about Constance Welch was taped. "Constance Welch, she's a woman in white."

Dean smirked as he looked back at the victims. "You sly dogs."

"What's a woman in white?" Julia wondered, her eyes darting between Sam and Dean.

"It's a sort of phenomenon," Sam explained to her. "They're spirits that have been sighted for hundreds of years in dozens of places. They're women who had husbands who were unfaithful so they suffered from temporary insanity and murdered their children. They take their own lives afterwards and become cursed, killing any unfaithful man they find."

Julia winced but mentally stored the information in her head until she could write it down in the journal she brought with her. She'd been cheated on before but she was never angry enough that she would take a life—let alone a child, if she had one.

"Wow," she breathed; Sam nodded in agreement.

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it," Dean spoke up.

"She might have another weakness," Sam suggested.

"Well, Dad would want to make sure," Dean insisted, crossing the room to stand next to Sam. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell," Sam's eyes brushed over the article on the wall. "If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband if he's still alive."

"All right," Dean nodded in approval. "Why don't you, uh, you guys go to the room and see if can find the address. I'm gonna get cleaned up in here."

Dean started toward the bathroom but Sam soon stopped him. "Hey, Dean?"

Dean looked at him expectantly.

"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad," Sam said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Dean held his hand in the air, stopping Sam from speaking further. "No chick-flick moments."

Sam laughed and nodded. "All right, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean mumbled in reply before heading into the bathroom.

Julia furrowed her eyebrows and walked over to Sam. "Your brother has some serious issues dealing with emotions."

Sam scoffed. "No kidding. Come on, let's go."

He turned to leave but paused when he saw a picture stuck in the full-length mirror. He pulled it out of the frame and smiled softly when he saw that it was him, Dean, and his dad more than a decade ago, sitting on the hood of the Impala.

Julia took a peek at it. "Were you born in plaid?" she joked, sensing that he needed a little cheering up; it worked and he smiled slightly. "You look happy."

"We were," Sam sighed as he pocked the picture.

-

It was noon the next day when Dean finally woke up and started moving, having caught more than his usual four hours of sleep. He went straight into the bathroom, ignoring the happy greeting Julia sent him, and got ready for the day.

Julia rolled her eyes at the grumpy man and went back to her laptop, reading the website that Sam had showed her. There was a lot of information about women in white that Sam hadn't touched on earlier and she made sure to record it in her journal so she could look back on it later if she needed to.

It was while Sam was listening to a message from Jess he had missed earlier that Dean came out of the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm starving," he informed them as he slipped on his hand-me-down leather jacket that was a little bit too big for him. "I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You guys want anything?"

"Nah," Sam declined, continuing to listen to the message.

"Aframian's buying," Dean tried to tempt him but Sam shook his head. Dean sighed and turned to Julia with raised eyebrows. "What about you, shortcake?"

Julia bit her lip, thinking about what she wanted to eat. Dean subtly checked her out while she decided, enjoying the pajama shorts and cotton tank-top that she was lounging around in.

"A turkey club?" she smiled up at him.

Dean winked at her. "Coming right up."

Julia's heart raced and her smile fell as he left the room. That man was just too gorgeous for his own good. Dean was attractive, everyone knew that, but Julia had a crush on him when she was five years old and he was an awkward-looking preteen going through puberty. Luckily the crush went away by the time she was in high-school and Dean was a very legal adult. If she wasn't careful, though, she'd be sucked in again.

Her phone rang only seconds later. It was Dean.

"Yeah?"

"Five-oh," Dean warned her quietly; she stiffened nervously. "You and Sammy take off."

"What about you?" she asked worriedly.

"They kinda spotted me. Go find my dad, all right?"

He hung up and Julia stood up, quickly grabbing a pair of joggers to pull up over her shorts. "Sam, the police are here," she informed him hurriedly, grabbing her laptop and sliding into her backpack. "Let's go."

"All right," Sam nodded and stood up. "Come on, there's a window in the bathroom."

Out in the parking lot, Dean smiled charmingly at the police officers approaching him. "Problem, officers?"

"Where are your partners?" one of the officers—the one they spoke to the day before—asked.

"Partners?" he played it cool. "What partners?"

The officer nodded over at his partner and gestured to John's room and their room. The partner made his way over to John's room first, which relieved Dean. It'd give Julia and Sam more time to get away without being noticed.

"So," the first officer looked back at him. "Fake US Marshal, fake credit cards...You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs," Dean stated matter-of-factly, flashing the officer a cheeky grin.

The officer didn't like that very much. He called over his partner and grabbed Dean, hauling him over to their cruiser. He was slammed down on the hood and cuffed behind his back but he didn't care. Sam and Julia got away and he hadn't committed any crimes—yet—so they didn't have anything on him.

He was processed quickly when they got to the station and sat in an interrogation room while the officers gathered evidence from John's room. It was an hour later that the sheriff came in, holding a box of things they had taken.

"So," the man grumped, sitting the box on the table in front of Dean. "you want to give us your real name?"

"I told you. It's Nugent," Dean insisted cockily. "Ted Nugent."

The sheriff gave him a flat look. "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"Are you talking like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or squeal-like-a-pig trouble?" Dean asked smartly.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo," the sheriff informed him needlessly. "Boy, you are officially a suspect."

Dean scoffed; this guy was an idiot. There was no way that Dean was gonna go down for these murders since all they had were a bunch of printed out pictures of the victims. That's not actually enough evidence to do anything.

"That makes sense," he snarked at the man. "cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was three."

"I know you got partners," the sheriff was deterred. "One of them is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So, tell me, Dean—"

Dean paused when the sheriff said his name, a cocky look on his face. The older man grabbed a book out of the box and threw it on the table in front of him. It was his dad's journal.

"—is this his?"

Dean's heart sank in his chest at the sight of the familiar, leather bound journal. His dad never went anywhere without it. Everything they knew about the supernatural creatures they've come across was recorded in those pages, along with a lot of personal information that Dean didn't like to be shared. Information about his mom's death and the way he grew up wasn't something he wanted random strangers to know about.

The sheriff recognized the look on Dean's face. "I thought that might be your name," he acknowledged, walking around the table so he could open the journal. "See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy."

Dean stared passively down at the pages he flipped through, the pictures of his ancestors, his mom, him, Sam, and their hunter friends filling some of the plastic sleeves inside.

Finally, the sheriff stopped on a page toward the back. "I found this, too," he pointed at a page with Dean's name and coordinates. "Now, you're staying right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

"It's my locker combination," Dean lied easily.

"Bullshit."

"I'm not lying," he insisted. "It's from years ago, when I was in high school."

The sheriff, rightfully, didn't believe him but Dean wasn't budging. He didn't know where the coordinates led to, but it had to be something important. Something that police officers or anyone who didn't know about John or the things that go bump in the night needed to see.

He questioned Dean for an hour, asking about many things. After a while, he veered the interrogation away from the coordinates and asked about his dad. He asked about Sam and Julia, too, but Dean insisted adamantly that he was alone. The sheriff didn't believe him but he didn't give a flying fuck—he wasn't a snitch. He enjoyed riling the old man up, too, seeing his face turn red with frustration and anger.

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you," Dean sighed when the sheriff asked him about the coordinates again. "It's my high school locker combo."

"We gonna do this all night long?" the sheriff asked him grumpily.

A deputy poked his head into the room. "We just got a 9-1-1," he informed his superior. "Shots fired over at Whiteford Road."

The sheriff looked over at Dean. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

Dean gave him a weird look. "No."

"Good," the sheriff pulled handcuffs out of his belt and locked Dean to the table before leaving the room, the door shut firmly behind him.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the paperclip he had been eyeing from his dad's journal. He quickly set himself free and grabbed the journal, slipping it into his jacket. He waited until all the police officers left and then escaped, having the time to whistle a little tune.

"Finally," he heard a sigh as he walked out of the building. "I'm been waiting for ever."

Dean gave Julia an impressed look as she walked over to him, her arms folding across her ample chest. "You did that?" he pointed back at the station with his thumb; she nodded with a grin. "A fake 9-1-1 call. Impressive and very illegal."

"You're welcome," Julia beamed at him, pleased with his praise. "Come on, Sam went to question Joseph Welch."

"Ah," Dean nodded and walked by her side as she lead them to a car parked on the curb a block down. "Did you steal the car, too?"

"Sam taught me."

"He taught you?" he gave her a skeptical look. Even he had a couple lessons before he was successfully jacking cars. Julia was good but she wasn't that good.

"Okay, he stole it for me before taking off," Julia admitted. "but I paid attention."

Dean hummed and slid into the driver's seat, starting up the car. He asked Julia to call Sam as he started driving toward Joseph Welch's house and she did it without protesting.

"Hey," Sam answered quickly.

"You taught Jules the fake 9-1-1 call?" Dean greeted him. "I'm proud, Sammy."

Sam laughed. "Well, you're welcome."

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it," Sam sighed. "So, the husband was unfaithful. We are definitely dealing with a woman in white and she's buried behind her old house. That should have been Dad's next stop."

Dean sighed in frustration. "Sammy, could you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Dean stated. "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What?" Sam's voice stiffened while Julia looked at Dean in shock. "How do you know?"

"I got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Ah, same old ex-Marine shit," Dean grumbled. "when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet," Dean admitted.

"I don't understand," Sam said, frustrated. "I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?"

Dean stiffened when they heard the tires screech on the other line. It sounded like Sam had stopped very quickly.

"Sam? Sam?" Dean asked frantically.

Sam didn't answer, though, and the call quickly died out. Dean tossed Julia her phone and stepped on the gas, speeding up toward the address listed on the article about Constance Welch's suicide.

"Do you think he's okay?" Julia asked him nervously.

She was worried to death about her best friend and from Dean's reaction, he could be in seriously danger. She knew Sam was faithful to Jess but maybe the spirit didn't care. Apparently some of them didn't follow rules.

"I don't know," Dean said tightly. "We just got to get there fast."

"Okay."

"You know how to shoot a gun?"

"Of course."

"Good."

They pulled up to the old Welch residence, spotting the Impala parked right out in front. Dean and Julia jumped out of the car they stole and ran toward it; Dean handed her one of the spare guns he kept in his jacket—thankful that the police didn't do a body search—and used his own to shoot out the driver's window where the woman in white was straddling Sam.

The woman in white disappeared but promptly became visible again. Julia shot without thinking, her bullet disturbing the spirit. Sam took the opportunity to start the car and speed into the house, going through the front wall.

"Oh, my God!"

"Jesus Christ, I hope he didn't hurt my car," Dean mumbled furiously as he and Julia ran into the destroyed house.

"Sam?"

"Here!"

Julia ran over to the driver's door. "You okay?" she asked, ripping the door open; Sam nodded. "Can you move?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed as Dean rushed over to them. "Can you help me?"

Dean reached in and practically pulled Sam out of the Impala, getting him to his feet. Julia wrapped one of Sam's arms around her shoulders and allowed him to settle his very heavy weight on her as Dean stepped in front of them in case Constance came back.

Constance sure didn't look very happy with them. She threw down the portrait that she was looking at and waved her hand. A heavy dresser flew toward them, painfully pinning them to the wall.

Julia squeaked in pain as she was pressed against the wall. She was officially unable to move and unable to get away from the pain that the furniture inflicted on her stomach. Dean and Sam tried pushing the dresser away from them but it wouldn't budge.

Then the lights in the house started flickering and water started pouring down the staircase. Two creepy-looking child-ghosts appeared, getting Constance's attention. She stared at them in horror and a deep sadness.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," they whispered in unison.

Julia shivered, creeped out.

The children appeared behind Constance and promptly hugged her, causing her to scream. Her body flickered for a few seconds before all three of them burst into a weird fire that had Julia turning away and disappeared.

With Constance's spirit gone, Dean and Sam were able to move the dresser away from the three of them. Julia sighed in relief now that the pressure was gone and wrapped an arm around her torso. She was pretty sure she had bruised a couple of ribs.

My first hunting injury, she thought proudly.

"So, this is where she drowned her kids," Dean assumed, looking at the spot where the three spirits appeared.

Sam nodded. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"But I fought we had to burn her corpse to kill her?" Julia spoke up, kind of confused.

There was only so much she knew about hunting but she thought you got rid of ghosts by salting and burning their corpse. That didn't happen here.

"Sometimes you can find a spirit's weakness and that can take care of them," Sam informed her.

"In this case it just happened to be her kids," Dean added, clapping Sam on the shoulder. "Nice work, Sammy."

Sam laughed loudly and grinned at his brother. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you," he mocked him. "Where were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

Dean gave him an offended look.

"By the way, J, nice aim," Sam added, just to tease Dean further.

"Thanks, S," Julia grinned at him before sticking her tongue out at Dean.

"Children," Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm working with children. And another thing," he warned Sam. "If you fucked up my car, I'll kill you."

-

It was almost midnight by the time they arrived back at Stanford. Sam had successfully found where the coordinates that John left them led, a place in Colorado, and had turned Dean down when he offered to drive there now, wanting to go to his interview. Dean was visibly upset but he didn't argue.

Dean pulled up the apartment and parked in the lot. Sam slid out of the car and grabbed his bag from the back before leaning down to talk to Julia and Dean through the window.

"Be careful, J," Sam poked her in the forehead. "Listen to Dean, all right?"

"I will."

"And call me."

"Yes, Dad," Julia playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Say hello to Jess, would you? Love ya."

Sam winked at her and then turned to Dean, his face falling when he saw the sullen look on his brother's face. "Call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed easily. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam smiled, his dimples popping out. "Yeah. Be careful."

Dean nodded and pulled out of the spot he had parked in. He quickly drove away from the apartment building and Julia assumed it was because he didn't want to dally and be sad about Sam's departure.

"You all right?" she asked Dean.

"I'm fine," Dean answered gruffly and changed the subject. "So, you survived your first hunt. How do you feel?"

"Good," Julia grinned. "Yeah, it was—"

She paused, scrunching up her nose as she got a bad feeling. She couldn't explain it and it felt different from the one she had about Dean but she knew something was wrong.

Dean gave her a worried look when she stopped talking. "You okay?"

"No," she shook her head. "I have a bad feeling."

As if the universe was agreeing to her statement, the radio glitched out. Dean looked at the dash, noticing that the clock had stopped working. He quickly turned the vehicle, his heart starting to race, and started driving back to Sam.

By the time they got there, the apartment was in flames and Jess was dead.

(Gif is not mine)

[a-sweet-violent-urge]

Michael Jackson

Yeah, I know, I know what state the world is in right now but trust me, this post has been a long time coming. I just never got around to write it. And I’m sitting down to do it now because I’ve been locked at home for a week so I guess it’s now or never. 

One look at my blog will tell you that I very rarely post personal stuff on here. I just reblog things and sometimes express opinions about my fav shows but that’s it. But I’m gonna get personal now.

I guess now’s the time to point out that I’m also not the most eloquent person around so to anyone reading, this might seem a bit all over the place, you’ve been warned. 

The last few months have been really hard for me and my family. My father died last December. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I was used to not having him around at home, he was always working, you know, to bring money home, and now.. I ... I think of him as not home, not gone. Don’t know if that makes sense. You’re probably wondering what does this have to do with Michael Jackson? I’ll get to that, be patient with me. 

Anyone who really knows me, and to be honest this is not a lot of people, I’m introverted, knows that listening to music is how I deal with things. I remember being a senior in high school, we were doing a speaking exercise in my English class, and my teacher asked us what influenced us the most in life, like, what helped shape our view on life and the world.  When it was my turn to answer, I said that it was music and the artists I listened to. The rest of the group (I’m saying group not class for a reason, but I don’t want to go into that much detail) probably thought it was weird, they talked about their friends and family. But this was the truth for me. It still is. The music I listen to (along with the books I read) is what has influenced me the most in life, it’s what made me the person I am today. This is the reason why I’ve always hated talking about music, my favorite music has always been something very personal to me. I’ve always hated the question who’s your favorite artist. People would think it’s an easy one to answer but it’s not, not to me

This is where I start to talk about Michael. He was one of those artists (who influenced me) but I only realize that now, in retrospect. Actually, around the time I answered that question, the artists I meant were 30STM, or Linkin Park, MCR or whatever the hell I listened to back then. 

I think the first time I listened to MJ intentionally was sadly after he died. I was born in September 1994, so I was not 15 yet. Up until that point, MJ was just a name in my head. I knew he was a singer, I knew what he looked like (’cause who didn’t or doesn’t), I know what he was very famous (though I had no idea why), I had heard songs, of course, though I didn’t really realize they were MJ songs. And despite all of that, me not knowing basically anything about him, I remember how hard his death hit me. I don’t know why. I felt like my fav artist had died, I felt like I had lost someone. To this day I can’t explain to myself why. I remember in what room I was when I heard the news. I watched the memorial and cried my eyes out. 

After that, I decided to listen to his music. I listened to a lot of it and for a month or two, (or probably more, I don’t really remember) I listened mostly to him. I learnt more and more things about him. Like, about his philanthropic work, about the allegations (I’ll talk about that later), actually I remember being like 10 and watching the trial being covered on the news here. Songs like The way you make me feel, Dirty Diana, Give into me quickly became my favorites. But I remember the first times I heard Man in the Mirror, Earth song, Heal the Word, We are the World. And especially Man in the Mirror. The lyrics If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make a change had become like my motto in life and I didn’t even realise it until the past few months. I realized that often when I had to make a choice about something, those lyrics would pop up in my head. When I saw or read something about the environmental problems that we’re facing, Earth song ended up popping in my head. Yeah, MJ had helped shape my view on certain things and I didn’t even know then.

After my 2009 MJ phase, I hardly ever listened to him. I would listen to some songs from time to time when the mood struck me, but that was it. 

Fast forward to October/November 2019. I was on YT and I ended up listening to some MJ songs., it was one of those times when the mood struck me, and I was going through the comment section (as I always do) while listening, and I noticed people commenting about .. a certain documentary. I don’t even want to say its name. So I was like what the fuck has happened and I looked it up. My initial reaction was seriously, this again?

Ok, I’ll go back to 2009 for a bit. When I got into MJ 11 years ago, as I mentioned earlier, I read about the allegations, I remembered even seeing it on the news as I said. But he was found not guilty. It was good enough for me. I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t care much about it. Plus he had just died. Nobody had one bad word to say about him. Ironic, huh? Also, I couldn’t do research even if I wanted to. I was young, I didn’t really speak English that well, and honestly, in the last few months I realized that when it comes to Michael Jackson, the truth is buried under so many false stories and dare I say, blatant lies, that you need an excavator to dig it out. I’m putting this in bold, in case a none MJ fan reads this, if you want to find the truth, know what you’re getting yourself into. Anyway, I couldn’t even fully appreciate some songs, because you need context to fully understand them, and I didn’t have that context then. 

Fast forward to 2019 again. So I found out about you-know-what and I started reading about it and watching videos, educating myself on the matter. In other words, I had gone down the rabbit hole. But it was not just that what sparked my interest in Michael. I noticed something. Something many people were writing in the comment section of different. Michael was an angel. Michael is/was love. What would have Michael done (about whatever) if he was alive? I was like what?! Look, I have spend my life fangirling over different celebrities and I had never seen people saying things like that. And this was the moment, I asked myself the question, why was this person so famous and so loved by so many people from all over the world? Why HIM? Yes, he was immensely talented but that applies to a lot of artists. So why Michael? Now I know why. If you’re a fan reading this, you know why, too. If you’re not, go figure it out on your own. 

It’s funny how a movie filled with not even clever lies, made so Michael’s name could one more time be run through the dirt, made me his fan (ugh, I hate that word, I almost feel like it has a negative connotation nowadays). Made me more than just a fan. If you remember, I started this post by saying that my father passed away in December. It all happened very fast, in less then 3 months, he wasn’t sick and then he was, and then, before we even knew it, he was gone. I was in the room when he died. So you see in what period of my life Michael’s music entered my life again. In a period when I needed a little light, something to keep the faith. In those months (and even now, more than 3 months later) Michael’s art was my lifeline. Keep the faith, Gone too soon, Had enough, Will you be there, Little Susie and so on. 

Here are some lyrics that really hit me hard

The feeling of terror she felt as a youth Has turned from a fantasy into the truth (Scared of the moon)

I drowned my pain in his music. His love, his kindness and generosity reminded me of my purpose in life. I won’t go into details about what I experienced because this already got more personal than I’m comfortable with. Plus, my vocabulary is not good enough to do it justice. I’ll finish with this. I’m in complete awe of him and the things he did. Like, yesterday I found out he made a song about sign language. Seeing voices. 

So, that’s my MJ story. I hope it’s comprehensible, you don’t know how hard it was for me to put this into a somewhat coherent narrative. But I really needed to get it off my chest. I probably missed some things that I wanted to say, if I think of something more, I’ll add an edit.

By the way, as you can see, I’m new to the MJ community and I’d love to make some friends, so feel free to message me. 

[deans-baby-momma]

Rebel Without A Cause-Epilogue #2 (The End)

A/N: This is it guys. The final installment of Rebel Without A Cause. Thanks everyone for reading, reblogging and commenting. And if you haven’t already check out The Padackles Link and Falling To Temptation. Those are the only two I have ongoing at the moment, although I am slowly working on the sequel/prequel to Past Haunts called Wounded Hearts. It’ll be out later this year, probably toward the end of summer.

While eating dinner a few days later, Dean brings up the subject. "Mags, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Maggie laughs causing Dean to roll his eyes. "Of course you can, babe."

"You ever, ahem….think about us having a baby?"

Maggie smiles as she looks at her husband.  "Only every single day."

Dean smiles widely at her, the love he has for her obvious. "Quit taking your birth control. Let's make a kid."

Maggie smiles and nods in response. 'This is happening!' she thinks to herself. 'Dean wants to have a baby with me.' Her insides quiver with excitement and anticipation at the thought. 

A few days later, right before a concert, Dean corners Maggie in their bathroom. "Tonight, after the show. I'm gonna pump you full. Make you all round with my kid," he whispers in her ear and then nibbles on her earlobe. 

"Dean it's only been three days. I'm not going to get pregnant three days after I quit taking my pill."

Dean growls as he lays a trail of kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. "Then I'll just fuck you until you are. Every night if I have to. And in the mornings too."

Maggie whimpers and feels her knees go weak at the prospect. Her and Dean's sex life hadn't simmered at all since the wedding. They still had sex multiple times a week, after the shows, sometimes before too. Dean hadn't once let on that he was bored or needed more to be satisfied. But knowing now that they were trying for a baby made Maggie's libido intensify. She can’t wait until after tonight’s gig.

From the side of the stage, Maggie stands with Rayne and watches as the Winchester Sex Bombs take the stage and listen as the crowd goes wild. Maggie knows it will only be a matter of time until her husband’s band is touring the country and even possibly out of the country. 

“We’re trying for a baby,” she tells Rayne, casually. She looks over at her best friend to gauge her reaction. Rayne turns to Maggie with her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open. “WHAT?!”

“Dean and I are trying for a baby,” Maggie repeats. “I stopped taking my birth control three days ago.” 

Rayne pulls Maggie down to her and hugs her tightly before letting go and jumping up and down excitedly. “Best news ever! I’m gonna be an aunt.”

If anyone had told Maggie that Dean Winchester had a breeding kink and that it would be so hot, she would’ve suggested having a kid a long time ago. Dean grunts in her ear as he pushes his hard cock into her welcoming cunt with force. “Damn baby, I can’t wait to see you full of my baby. Knowing I fucked a kid into you. Goddamn, I love you.” 

Maggie has already had four orgasms, one on his fingers, two on his tongue and one just from the filthy diatribe coming from his lips. She is closing in on a fifth one and he is still pounding into her with no end in sight. 

“Dean!” she screams as that coil deep inside her breaks and her vision goes white. “Oh my god, Dean. I can’t take anymore,” she whines but Dean disregards her statement and lifts her leg to drape over his shoulder.

“Yes, you can. That tight pussy is going to take this whole cock and every single drop of cum I give it. You’re going to be so fucking full, you’ll be dripping for days.”

Maggie’s eyes roll back and Dean begins a punishing pace as his thrusts get harder. “Fuck, Mags. Your pussy is so good. Squeezing me tight. Come on baby, play with your clit for me.” Maggie reaches between them surprised at how soaked she is. Dean chuckles and says, “I love it when you squirt all over my dick.” 

Rubbing small circles over her sensitive nub, Maggie can feel another orgasm making itself known and she marvels at the phenomenon. She has never had this many, ever. She wonders if she could combust with desire. “Oh god, Dean. You feel so good. Fuck me full, babe. Put a baby in me.”

Dean somehow finds the stamina to begin thrusting into her even deeper, harder, and faster. The headboard of the bed begins colliding with the wall with each plunge. Suddenly Dean stills, buried deep inside his wife and she can feel his release throbbing out and coating her walls and cervix. The feeling causes her to have a small orgasm that makes her head spin. 

“Well if that didn’t do it, I don’t know what will,” Dean chuckles as he rolls off her and pulls her to his side. “I love you, Mags.”

“I love you, Dean.”

Five weeks later, Dean and Maggie learn that one of their many lovemaking sessions was a success when the plus sign shows up on the test stick. It just so happens to be the same day that Dean gets the call that the Winchester Sex Bombs are wanted on a 25-city, 10 state country-wide tour, as the headliners. 

“Dean Henry Winchester, I swear to fucking God. I refuse to let you turn this down,” Maggie states when Dean voices that he is thinking about throwing the opportunity away. “I am not going to be the reason you don’t get to live out your lifelong dream. Your kid and I will be just fine. Go rock the country and come back to us. We’re proud of you, Daddy,” she says with a smile.

Dean returns the smile in earnest. Hearing Maggie call him Daddy makes him feel proud. He is going to be a father. But he also doesn’t want to miss a single moment of her pregnancy and being out on the road will make him do just that.

“Baby, why don’t you come with us? I mean for the first few months anyway,” Dean suggests. “We can be together and I can help you through whatever you need. Please? I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You’ll be regretting that when I’m bent over the toilet, puking up the dinner we just ate,” Maggie says. Dean denies it with a shake of his head and he pulls her to him and places his large palm over her non-existent bump.

It is on the road that Maggie hits many firsts. The first time she denied Dean sex because her boobs are sore; her first mood swing over some inconsequential little thing; her first bout with morning sickness that lasted all day and into the night, making her miss the concert. The heartburn alone was horrendous but then the aversion to her favorite foods caused the first argument of their married life.

“You just ate this last week,” Dean says as Maggie covers her nose and mouth and backs away from the plate of lasagna. “It’s your favorite.”

“I know,” Maggie says nasally. “But it smells weird.”

“It smells weird she says,” Dean mocks as he takes a bite of his food. 

“What did you just say?” Maggie looks at him admonishingly.

“What? Everything smells weird to you now, Maggie. First it was the chicken, then it was the cake. Now it’s the lasagna. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m pregnant, you asshole!” Maggie screams as she retreats to the bedroom of the suite, slamming and locking the door. Dean looks after her and realizes where he fucked up. 

Both Maggie and Dean are relieved when the second trimester arrives. Maggie’s sexual appetite is back with a vengeance, she no longer feels sick all the time and her favorite foods are her favorite again. Her only complaint, and Dean’s pleasure, is the weight gain. Maggie hates seeing the numbers on the scale going up every time she goes to the doctor. She had spent so long working to get the extra pounds off that it saddened her to see higher numbers. Dean, though, is pleased with the way Maggie’s body is filling out and is not ashamed to tell her. 

“Look at how that ass pops!” Dean says one night as Maggie is getting out of the shower. “And Mags, those boobs! Makes a man want to bury himself between them. He sure would die happy.” Maggie laughs and rolls her eyes at her husband’s words and hurries to wrap the towel around herself. Dean might like looking at her growing body but Maggie avoids it like the plague. 

Maggie has also become a permanent figure at the side of the stage once again, and the baby seems to really enjoy listening to its father rock the house. “Man, Rayne. The little one is really at it tonight!” Maggie tells her best friend as she places a palm against her bump. Rayne slaps her hand away and replaces it with her own. “Hey, buddy. You like listening to daddy and Uncle Sam play?” Rayne bends down to talk to Maggie’s belly. 

The third trimester, though, sets everyone back a step when Maggie gets diagnosed with preeclampsia. Her doctors order her to stay home and rest. So while the rest of the band go on tour, Maggie and Rayne settle into the Winchester house in Lebanon, Kansas. Rayne insists on staying with Maggie to alleviate Dean’s worry and concern. Everything is going good until one morning Maggie gets up and as soon as she stands her water breaks, gushing over the floor and soaking her nightgown. “Rayne! Call Dean...it’s time.”

The cab ride from the airport to the hospital seems to take forever as Dean anxiously sits in the backseat, next to his brother. When Rayne had called this morning to tell him Maggie was in labor, Dean jumped out of bed and hurriedly got dressed as he called their manager, Crowley and the rest of the band to tell them the good news. Thankfully, Crowley was in a giving mood and told him that he would postpone all shows until further notice while Dean flew home to welcome his kid. That was three hours ago and Dean is nervously afraid he has missed the birth.

“Dude, calm down,” Sam says as Dean begins bouncing his knee. “You aren’t going to miss it. If I know Rayne, she will be demanding Maggie keep her legs closed so that the baby doesn’t come out until you’re there.” Dean threw a glare at his younger brother but he knew Sam was right. Rayne would do whatever it took so that Dean wouldn’t miss out on the birth of his first child. He was going to have to have a chat with his brother after all this was over. Sam needed to marry that girl.

The taxi pulls up to the hospital entrance and Dean rushes out of the vehicle, leaving Sam to take care of the fare. He practically runs up to the receptionist’s desk. “Margaret Winchester. She’s having my baby. Where is she?” 

By the time Sam joins him, Dean has the room number and a badge to allow him entry into the labor and delivery floor. They both get on the elevator to take them to their woman. With each floor the car passes, Dean’s nerves become more frazzled. ‘This is it!’ he thinks to himself. ‘I’m about to become a dad.” The thought brings a smile to his face. He can’t wait to see the little one. 

After he relieves Rayne of her duties, Dean steps up to Maggie who is laying in the bed, her hair matted to her sweaty forehead. “Hey, baby. I’m here. I’m here,” he coos.

“About damn time. Get this kid out of me,” Maggie growls and grabs his hand, squeezing it as another contraction hits. 

Hours later, Dean goes out to get Sam and Rayne and bring them to Maggie’s private room to meet the newest Winchester. When Sam and Rayne walk in, Maggie turns her head and smiles.

“Uncle Sam, Aunt Rayne. Meet Everly Rayne Winchester.”

@pink1031 @spnbaby-67 @winecatsandpizza @joseyrw @kricketc29 @tftumblin @markofdean79 @sandlee44 @michellethetvaddict​ @lyarr24​ @travelingriversideblues-x​

[twdeadfanfic]

The first to blow your mind Pt.4

Daryl Dixon x Reader

*Summary:  It’s Daryl Dixon’s 18th birthday and he can’t stop his brother from dragging him to the strip club, one of Merle’s favourite places, to celebrate. There’s a new singer there, a girl with a beautiful voice and a beautiful smile, even Daryl can see it. Little does he know, he’s going to meet her again at the woods soon. This was a request but it got out of hand.

Daryl’s POV. Teen Daryl.Pre-apocalypse. Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst

3886 words

Chapters: 4/8

Link to masterlist with more  chapters and works is in the info of this blog.

We’re halfway through people! What are being your thoughts on this? Thank you for every like, reblog, and lovely comment, it really keeps me going!

Also I’ve been reblogging a lot of young Norman pics to get in the mood for teen Daryl, if you want to check it! Some of them are really how I imagine him in this story: twdeadfanfic.tumblr.com/tagged/tftbym ***

Last chapter…we had this two holding hands and also going on a ride! 

....................................................................................................................

True to his word, Daryl took Y/N riding with him a couple more times, but most times they still met in that same clear in the woods. He was now sat down on a blanket, looking at Y/N as she sang a new song he hadn’t heard her before. She was sat down next to him, cross-legged, swinging softly from side to side.

Daryl loved to watch her sing. It wasn’t only that she had a beautiful voice, but how she looked while she sang, the dreamy smile that usually spread across her face as she did, the way in which her eyes closed sometimes, how passionate about it and how happy she seemed while singing. He knew she hadn’t it easy in life, even though she didn’t complain much, but when she sang it was like her worries and frustrations left her.

She finished the song and looked at him with a grin that took Daryl’s breath away and made his heart skip a beat. He’d been trying to stop those feelings she gave him, but they had just gotten stronger and stronger as they spent time together.

She looked at him in a way…Daryl couldn’t explain it, but it made him feel worthy, like he was something more than a good-for-nothing like he’d always felt. He still couldn’t understand that she’d decided she wanted to hang out with him in the first place, but the way in which she looked at him and spoke about him, saying all those things about him that Daryl couldn’t believe or see, it made him want to be better, made him want to be as Y/N thought he was. She seemed to like to spend time with him almost as much as Daryl liked to spend it with her, and he couldn’t understand it but he was grateful nonetheless.

She was beautiful, anybody could see it, but if only were that…she was smart, even though she didn’t think to seem so, and Daryl didn’t think he’d ever get tired of listening to her talking, and she was funny too, he always laughed more than he’d ever done while being somewhere when he was with her. She was cute and sweet, and kind, things Daryl wasn’t used to have in his life.

 Their time together was the highlight of his day, and when they were apart, his mind wandered to her more often than not without him being able to control it. He was falling for her, he knew it even though he’d never felt like that before. He’d been falling for her for a while now, but it seemed he was only seeing it now. It scared him and he knew he had to stop it, nothing good could come from that, but he didn’t know how. His heart betrayed him every time they were together, and butterflies would fill his belly every time he thought about her.

“What you think, then?” Y/N’s voice took him back to earth as she looked at him, cocking her head to the side. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, she always sang well. “It’s good.”

“Thank you.” She grinned again. “I’m grateful you let me sing to you, it kind of feels like the only time someone actually listens to me.”

“I like it when you sing,” Daryl said shyly, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “But you have all those guys listening to you each night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I don’t think they really listen, all they want from me it’s that I take off my clothes and move my ass, they wouldn’t care if I wouldn’t sing as long as I’m naked, that’s what they got there to see.” She ranted, frustrated.

“That ain’t true.” Daryl knew she wished she could sign somewhere where she was truly appreciated for it, and he too wished she could, but she did get attention at the club. “I was there and when you began to sing even my brother shut up for a bit. They know you sang well, they like to hear you.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled but Daryl wasn’t sure if she believed him. “I still sing that song, the one you heard that night, do you remember it?”

Daryl nodded, he had seen Y/N and heard her singing in her mind for days after that night, and he still could, but he tried not to so he wouldn’t get all flustered.

“Oh baby, for all it's worth I swear I'll be the first to blow your mind. Now, if you're ready, come and get me…”

Y/N half sang half hummed, and Daryl almost laughed at the irony. She’d blown his mind for sure, the first one to make him feel like that. Part of him wanted to be able to stop those feelings, but he also didn’t want to stop feeling like that.

“It was your birthday but you didn’t seem to be having fun.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were looking at the floor, wouldn’t look up at me when I talked to you, kind of spike my curiosity…” Y/N looked at him through the corner of her eye. “It was…it was the place or it was because of me?”

“What you mean?” Daryl frowned at her.

“You looked like you wished you were anywhere but there, like you didn’t like the place, but maybe it was just that you didn’t like me.” She shrugged, looking down.

Daryl didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t liked her like he did now, didn’t know her yet, but still he had thought that she was beautiful and she sang well. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been embarrassed at having her talking to him like she did.

“It’s okay, sorry, I’m making everything awkward, it was a stupid question.” She combed a hand through her hair, letting it fall around her face as if embarrassed.

“It was the place.” Daryl rushed to say, he didn’t like seeing Y/N feeling like that. “Didn’t want to be there, my brother dragged me.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were forced to be there…and then your brother wanted me to give you a private show and I scared you.”

“Didn’t scare me,” Daryl grumbled, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I didn’t want to keep listening to Merle’s shit and I wasn’t interested in any show, private or not.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” She chuckled quietly, a small smile on her face, though still something seemed to be bothering her. Did she really think that he had left because he didn’t like her? That if Merle had called another girl, then his answer would have been different? Daryl thought it was silly, but she really seemed to think it.

“It wasn’t ‘cause it was you, I wouldn’t have wanted it from none. I don’t see the point on going to see half-naked girls that I don’t know.”

“And half-naked girls that you know?” Her question took Daryl aback and he didn’t know what to say, his face burning as he looked at her, he hadn’t meant it like that. She looked up at him and smiled softly. “I’m kidding, just weird conversations you have when your friend is a stripper.” She chuckled awkwardly.

“You’re my friend but I ain’t gonna go back to that club not even to see you sing.” He joked back, trying to overcome how flustered he was feeling, not wanting to read too much into her words, knowing that his feelings might turn them into something they weren’t. She laughed softly at that.

“Fair enough.” Her usual bright smile was back, helping Daryl relax again. “You got your private show anyway, though, and free.”

“Did I?” Daryl looked at her weird.

“Well, I bet not the one your brother had in mind, but yes, I sing for you almost every day, don’t I?”

Yes, she did, and Daryl couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Ain’t free, I got you squirrels.” He joked, and she laughed.

“And I don’t have to do all those silly things and all that stupid stuff I say to the guys at the club so I get tips. It’s a win-win.”

“Silly stuff?”

“Yeah, like…” She sat up on her knees and suddenly her demeanor changed in a way Daryl couldn’t explain. “Hi sexy, glad to see you, thank you for coming to listen to me sing.” Even her voice sounded different as she spoke like that, and Daryl knew she was exaggerating but he got the idea. “Sure, you come to watch me sing, not to stare at my ass…” She wiggled her hips and Daryl looked away. “You want me to get closer…sure I’m doing it cos I like you, not cos you’re waving a bill at me, just like you come to watch me sing.”

“Told you, they like your singing more than you think,” Daryl mumbled, looking at her again, hating that she didn’t feel appreciated.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you, darling.” Y/N winked at him and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat even though he knew she was just playing, she was still using that voice. “What if you get some bills inside my bra and I sit here with you for a bit, uh?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, wiggling a shoulder as she leaned towards him, and Daryl forgot how to breathe for a second. He tried to think of something to say, anything to overcome how flustered he was.

“Girl, only thing I could get in your bra is the roasted rabbit I brought you, so think it twice.”

She burst out laughing at that, back to herself. “I’d have it coming for being messing with you like this. I knew the moment I saw you that night that this shit wouldn’t work on you.” Daryl wondered if she was oblivious to how fast she made his heart beat.

“That’s why you thought I was interesting?” He asked shyly, looking down. “I mean…you told me you thought I was interesting…don’t know why you might have thought that…”

“Yeah, it was part of it, not only that, though.” She shrugged, looking down. “You’re an interesting guy...” Daryl scoffed at that. She must the only one to think that and he would never understand it. “You are.”  

She glanced at him through the corner of her eye, biting her lip, her cheeks tainted soft pink, and a small smile spread across her face when she noticed he was looking at her. Daryl couldn’t stop himself from thinking how pretty she was, he tried, but he couldn’t. 

Sometimes, like at that moment, when Y/N talked like that and looked at him in a certain way...he didn’t know what to think, but lately he’d been wondering if maybe, maybe, Y/N could feel about him a little bit like he felt about her. He couldn’t understand why someone like her could be interested in him like that, but he neither understood why she would want to be his friend, why she would care for him, and she did, so Daryl didn’t know what to think. 

He never asked, though, never gathered enough courage, never dared, scared of her rejecting him, of making things awkward, afraid she’d behave differently around him if she knew he was falling for her, maybe she would stop seeing him. 

Daryl realized he’d been starting at the lower lip she’d been chewing, and he quickly looked away. He tried to think for something to do or say to dissipate the strange feeling that had settled between them. He grabbed his bag and took out the latest book she’d lent him, passing it to her. 

“I finished it.” 

“Did you like it?” Y/N caressed the book fondly and Daryl wondered if it had been her mother’s. 

“Yeah, it was good. Kind of easy to guess who was the one murdering everyone.” 

“Well, you’re a smart guy after all.” Y/N smiled, and Daryl would have thought she was teasing him if it weren’t because she had said similar stuff before. He opened his mouth to reply but Y/N spoke before he could. “Just take the damn compliment for one.” 

She leaned closer, grinning, and Daryl surprised himself with how much he wanted to lean in and kiss her. He forced himself to pull away.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, though he couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that tugged at his lips.

“I can bring you another one tomorrow, if you want.”

“Okay.”

*

Daryl walked fast towards the clearing, he was late that day and he didn’t want Y/N to wait for him too long, she was usually already there when he arrived, waiting for him. Merle’s friends had been at home, drinking with Merle, and it’d taken Daryl a while to be able to sneak out.

When he reached the clearing, though, Y/N wasn’t there. Daryl knew it was stupid, but the first thought that went to his mind was that she had decided she didn’t want to see him anymore. Deep down, though, he knew it was ridiculous, she was just late. Later than she’d ever been. Which made him worried. Maybe something had happened to her.

Before he could worry too much, he heard someone rushing through the wood, and Y/N walked into the clearing. Her cheeks were pink and she was panting as if she’d been walking fast, but her face lit up when she saw him.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! I was worried thinking maybe you’d left already!”

“Nah. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just…I called my friend Nora, the one I told you that moved to the city, and I lost the track of time while we spoke.” She flopped down on the ground, taking a bottle of water from her bag and taking a long sip. “We’ve been talking for hours, just venting to her, I don’t know how she just didn’t stop me after the first hour.”

Daryl sat down next to her, frowning as he looked at her. He thought she looked like she had cried, but he wasn’t sure. “There’s something wrong?”

“No, just…” Y/N  let out a sigh. “My step-father is a prick, but that’s nothing new.” She had told him that his step-father was an asshole, but Daryl had thought he was out of her life, and he tensed thinking he might have done something to her.

“What happened?”

“Just him talking shit about me, it’s not the first time, it’s not going to be the last…” Y/N shrugged, looking down. “I was at the supermarket and I heard two women speaking, one of them was my step-father’s neighbor, and she was saying how he’d told her that now I was working in a strip club, that I was probably a whore, that he always knew I was a lost cause and just shit like that. They turned around and saw me and they didn’t care, didn’t seem embarrassed or nothing, they just wrinkled their nose at me and kept talking.”

“Let them talk shit, people in this town are stupid gossipers, you told me yourself.” Daryl tried not to show how angry he was at what Y/N was telling him, he wanted her to think it wasn’t important, to forget it soon, so he tried to act as if it wasn’t a big deal. “They aren’t worthy. Just let them keep going with their shitty, stupid lives.”

He knew how it was to have people saying shit about you, how it could make you feel even if you tried to ignore it, even if you didn’t give a shit about them. He didn’t want Y/N going through it.

“I know.” Y/N gave him a weak smile. “I wasn’t expecting them to apologize or something like that when they realized I had heard them, just maybe that they’d look ashamed. I guess it was too much to ask. And I guess I should be used to my step-father talking shit about me.”

“Ain’t the first time?” It was being hard to sound calm when all Daryl wanted was to shut Y/N’s step-father’s mouth.

Y/N snorted. “He’s been talking shit about me since he started with my mom, especially after moving in. Telling his friends how I was insufferable, how horrible it was to be forced to live with me, how much I made my mom suffer, telling them and me how I was the worst thing to happen to my mom since she had me young and alone, how I had ruined her life, and shit like that…I never thought my mom would really think that but…dunno…”

Daryl was getting angrier and angrier the more Y/N spoke, but when he noticed her eyes getting wet, he didn’t think he could take it anymore, his blood boiling, all he wanted was to find Y/N’s step-father and punch the shit out of him.

“What did you say was his name?”

“I didn’t say it. It isn’t worth saying it. They aren’t worthy, you just said it.” Y/N looked at him as if she could read his thoughts. “It isn’t worth getting into any trouble ‘cause him.”

Daryl just hummed at that. He still thought Y/N’s step-father would be better with his nose broken.

“I don’t want to think about him, I don’t want to see him ever again, I want to pretend he doesn’t exist or whatever. Only thing I regret is that most of my mom’s books are still at their place…most of my shit too, but I don’t care about that…just the books and all my mom’s stuff.” Y/N shrugged, but it was obvious she was upset, and she rubbed her eyes, biting her lip as if she was trying not to cry. It made Daryl’s heart hurt.

“Why didn’t you get your things before you left?”

“It was…well, we had a big fight right after my mom’s funeral…it wasn’t pretty…we yelled, he slapped me, I pushed him, we yelled some more… and he kicked me out of the house, I barely had time to get some of my things in a bag and a couple of my mom’s books that I could sneak since he didn’t want me taking her things, before I had to leave.” She scoffed.  “I was an idiot, I should have fought back harder, should have told him to fuck himself. But honestly, at that moment…I just didn’t have any strength left. And now I don’t want to see him or talk to him ever again, and when I see that house I feel like crying so I don’t think I’ll ever be back.”

Despite how hard she was trying, a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks and she wiped them quick. The mad rage Daryl was feeling towards her step-father was only overcome by how much it hurt to see Y/N like that. He wanted to help her, to do something and comfort her, but he didn’t know how, and he could only look at her helplessly, feeling like someone was stabbing him.

Y/N looked at him with wet eyes and a weak smile, chuckling awkwardly. “Sorry, I thought I had vented enough yet here I am, telling you all this shit…”

“No, it’s okay.” He rushed to say. “I mean…it ain’t okay. You should get your things back, and your mom’s. I’d go with you.” He’d punch the prick until he apologized to Y/N on his knees too, but Daryl didn’t say that aloud.

“You’re sweet.” Y/N leaned over to press a soft kiss to his cheek and Daryl’s heart speed up for a different reason than anger that time. “Thank you, but no, I don’t want to go back there, don’t want to see him again. I don’t need my mother’s things to remember her. A picture would be nice, but well…I got my memories.” She shrugged, smiling sadly.

Daryl chewed on the skin around his thumbnail as he thought about Y/N’s words. He still wanted to make her feel better but he didn’t know how, but at least she wasn’t crying anymore. Her words had also gotten him thinking about his mom, whom he barely remembered. He’d never talked about her, not really, he’d tried talking once to Merle and he’d gotten so angry Daryl never tried again. He chewed on his nail as he tried to find the right words.

“My mom…she died too, when I was little.” He began quietly, eyes trained on the ground. “I don’t really remember her that much anymore, just glimpses. But I know she drank a lot and she smoked a lot. She was drunk more often than not, most of the time she was on bed…’til one day she passed out while smoking, the bed burned to ashes and so did her, there was nothing left.” Daryl bit his lip hard, trying to overcome a wave of emotion he hadn’t felt in a long while. “Don’t know what happened to her things, guess my father threw them away, not that she had much. I got nothing from her, I don’t even remember her face anymore, not really.”

Y/N didn’t say anything and Daryl didn’t dare to look at her, afraid of his emotions betraying him, afraid Y/N thought him weak and silly. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her all that, but he felt like sharing things with her, like he could tell her anything and she’d understand, she wouldn’t judge. She was the only one Daryl had ever felt like talking to about himself and about his private thoughts and ideas. Maybe he’d been mistaken.

Then he felt her shifting closer and her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a hug. He felt her hand at the back of his head, gently coaxing him to bury his face on the crook of her neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, and she hid her face on his shoulder too.

It was warm and comforting, and nothing like Daryl had ever felt before, and Daryl thought he wanted to feel like that forever. He found himself snuggling closer but it didn’t seem like Y/N minded it, her arms tightening around him. They held each other in silence for a long while but still, when Y/N let go of him and pulled back it felt like too soon for Daryl, missing her warmth and the way in which her arms around him made him feel.

Y/N gave him a shy smile and Daryl looked away, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about having shared his feelings with her. He looked for something else to say, something to do, and he rummaged into his bag, pulling out the book she had lent him.

“I finished it.”

“You read so fast I only have like one book left to give you.” She smiled softly, taking the book and stroking her fingers over the worn out cover. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I think it’s the one I liked the best.”

“Good, it was one of my mom’s favourites.” Her smile was a bit brighter now, even though it was sad.

Daryl didn’t know what to say but Y/N didn’t seem to mind his silence. She opened the book, silently reading a random page as she leaned her head on his shoulder, and Daryl knew there was no point trying to fight the butterflies that twirled in his stomach.

.............................................................................................................

Well then! We have another asshole step-father starring yet in another one of my stories! Also...she’s not subtle at flirting, is she? But Daryl is...well, Daryl... Also, he doesn’t seem too happy about this step-father situation...I wonder if he might be up to something...

If you have a moment, please let me know your thoughts on this. As always, thank you for your reads, likes, comments and reblogs, it means the world to me!

As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.

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[imagine-loki]

Not as it Seems

TITLE: Not as it seems 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter three

AUTHOR: Technically a-pandoras-box-of-characters, but my story blog (a-pandoras-box-of-stories) is a side blog, so I’ll likely be reblogging my story there too. 

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that Loki is banished to Midgard shortly after Thor: the dark world. However, as punishment for his crimes, he is forced into the form of a common animal on earth to prevent his use of magic and silver tongue. This common animal is a cat. 

RATING: Right now should be fine for anyone to read, next chapter rating may change. 

NOTES/WARNINGS: The characters I’m using are Rp characters, but I thought that this would be fun. Feedback would be appreciated! :) (Also, her name is pronounced “Eye-zale-ia,” similar to ‘Azalea,’ but different because I’m weird and like the sound of my spelling better.) 

** Chapters may run longer or shorter depending on what ideas I have for them! 

Second + third note: He finally tells her his name! And I’ve started to upload this to my AO3 account, here.

Tagging: @puppens101, @whosaidididthat 

—————————————————————————————– 

The black cat now sat up, a bit unsteady because of the pain that it caused him. Seeming to be undeterred by it, he sat up anyways and curled his tail around his paws. His greenish-blue eyes drilled into Izzy, although it was only now that their true beauty was completely evident to her. The only reason that it hadn’t before, was because she had mostly been concerned with taking care of him and trying to get him situated. Now that she was able to sit down with him and have some sort of response other than hissing or growling, she could see it so much better.

  Unable to suppress the fact that him answering her made her happy, Izzy smiled a bit and sat up a little more. True, it hadn’t been very polite - nor had it been helpful in any real sense of the word - but it was something. And something, she could work with. 

“I’m going to guess that you’re not originally a cat, then, are you?” Izzy asked, raising an eyebrow. She tried to be gentle in tone when posing such a question, given that she was aware that if the answer to that was ‘yes,’ then there must have some kind of situation that put him in this form. And, depending on whatever - or whoever -  he had been before, it might be considered by him to be an extreme step down in the food chain. However, her attempts to be gentle were met with cynicism. 

“How astute of you to notice.” If cats could frown or roll their eyes, she was sure that he certainly would be. His ears were already back as it was, and he seemed to be impatient with either her, or his predicament, or both. “What tipped you off, my blatantly ineffective efforts to read this book, or was it because I wouldn’t talk to you from the start?”  

“Look…I just want to help you.” Izzy started, holding a finger to his mouth when he began to object. “And I can’t do that; if your only answers to me are rude and unhelpful. Alright?” With all seriousness, Izzy looked him directly in the eyes. He got his breath hard but did not answer her this time. Changing how she was holding him, Izzy went to go sit on her bed and put him on her lap. 

“Now, I’m going to try and heal you some..is that okay? I’ll have to use magic; if you know what that is…” she trailed off, trying to ignore what sounded to her like a bunch of indignant nonsense coming from him in response. “Shhh..” Aizalea whispered, resting her forehead to his. It was a strange and initially unwelcome thing to him. He just wanted to be put back down so that he could return to his pillow and sulk - to be allowed to avoid her and her loud, bothersome friend Ash. As well as Luna, since he just wanted to be left alone. Despite the fact that she hadn’t really been a problem to him so far. 

A calming chill ran through him, relaxing him in almost an instant. It was like no magic that he had ever dealt with before. It washed through his body and seemed to target exactly where he’d been hurt, then to carry it away just as quickly as it had arrived. Colors were seen differently to him right now, but the mist-like magic coming from her seemed to be of some darker shade of something to him; in effect, the whole thing was making him feel much more curious and much less frustrated. After she was finished, the pain was substantially lessened. It did not hurt as much to move, and the soreness had eased up. While he did not really feel much like talking anymore at the present time, he leaned up and licked her cheek a couple of times - an action that was completely embarrassing to him once he realized what he had done.

Reasoning that it was only because he was a cat right now, and it was natural for a creature of the feline species to do something like that, he decided not to think about it anymore. A decision that was made harder to keep, after she kissed the top of his head. Drat. Whatever! He would just stay silent, and wait to be put back down on the floor. Perhaps if he were patient– Ah, yes! She was putting him back down. Wonderful. Now maybe she would leave again, and he could–

“I have something to show you if you want to see it.” Aizalea smiled softly, heading towards the door again. Opening it, she waited to see if he wanted to come to the other room. He hesitated, but the offer had him intrigued. With the lack of so much pain, walking wasn’t really that difficult now…Alright, fine. 

Standing up again, he cautiously ventured out into the living room. From this point of view, everything looked huge. Not like how it had when he was up in the air, being held in Izzy’s arms the night before. It was daunting, but Izzy had moved to the side to let him through at his own pace - something that he appreciated, although he didn’t say so aloud. 

“It’s this way,” Izzy’s voice caught his attention, bringing it away from looking around the room, and from staring apprehensively at Ash - who was standing not too far away and watching him and Izzy. Looking instead in the direction that she had motioned in, he took a few more steps that way. What came into his sight was not what he had been expecting at all - it had multiple levels, looked to have places to hide, maybe a place for claw sharpening, and a dangly toy thing off to the side. At first, he wanted to feel insulted. This thing was for pets. For animals! It was not for him. And yet… the cat in him compelled him to at least go and check it out. 

At first sniff, it smelled funny. Venturing inside one of the little hiding places proved it not to be such a bad thing, though: it was soft, warm, and only had enough space for him inside. Right now, it was perfect - the perfect place for him to sulk and be aggravated. Because, while it was nice and he had decided that he didn’t mind it so much, he still wasn’t ready to let go of his frustrations about being stuck this way yet. For all he knew, the magic that Izzy had only extended as far as nice-feeling healing powers, and that was it. Well, aside from the ‘being able to communicate with animals’ thing. How weird was this Midgardian woman going to turn out to be? He could only wonder. 

“Did he tell you his name yet?” he could hear them talking from across the room. Ash was talking to Izzy, and Izzy looked to be upset when she answered her. 

“No, all he did was snap at me. I was able to heal him somewhat, but for now, I have no idea whatsoever if he even has a name. I’m beginning to think that even communicating with him was just all in my head.” she sighed, back leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely beneath her chest. 

For some reason, her tone and expression made him feel a little guilty. He had been a bit rude with her when all that she had apparently wanted to do was help. Then again, why should he have to be in charge of her emotions or her well-being? She was the one who had brought him into her home. He hadn’t asked her to pull him out of the rain. To bring him in, clean him up, feed him, and give him a bunch of things to try and make him happy… No. He’d not asked for any of it. That was the bottom line. He was here because of her, and that was all. He didn’t care how she felt about it, he was done caring about other people or trying to help. That was what he’d been trying to do before he’d been stuck in this mess: he’d been trying to help; the expected outcome was to be rewarded - not to be turned into an animal with no means of changing himself back, or of communicating with anyone. Anyone but her…

An impatient sigh left him. If he was going to be stuck like this, then he was going to be free to sulk and be mad about it if he wanted to - no matter how it affected some woman. This was the decision that he had come to, and he was sticking to it. 

At least, this is what he thought that he was going to do. 

                                  ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ 🐾 ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

The following days were nothing, if not at least interesting. 

While he had had it in mind to keep to himself and sulk alone, the three women in the apartment did not seem to be getting that memo; even Luna was paying him attention, not that he had expected it. Still, he found himself welcoming it more than he had with Ash - he still very unsure of her, most often because she was too hyperactive for his moods and got on his nerves - but there were some of her efforts, that he found himself later admitting that he had maybe not minded them as much as he originally thought that he did. She was trying, he could give her that, he supposed. 

The real bond he’d found himself making, however, was not with either of them. It was with Izzy. 

Even if he’d gone off to be alone, she’d usually leave him some sort of a treat to try and coax him out again anyways. Not that it usually worked, but she did make the attempt. And it was her perseverance that was most intriguing to him - for, he knew that he was not giving her the information she wanted; she wanted to know his name, but he had not budged. No name had been given, yet she did him the favor of not giving him some ridiculous or absurdly offensive name in place of it. He wasn’t cooperating well with her, yet more than once, she brought him up to lay on her bed with her when she noticed that he wasn’t sleeping well. It was unexpected and at first, rather unwelcome. No such comforts had been afforded to him since the passing of his mother, and so actions like these were greatly off-putting to him. Izzy was being kind to him, although she had no real reason to do so. It baffled him. Why should she be so nice, when he was being so stubborn? With all of his resistance and frequent bad moods, he had assumed that by now she would have given up and put him out. Or put him in a cage; as his not-father had done before when he’d done something that he perceived to be ‘bad,’ without even once trying to see if there were some cause for it: a reason for him to act in such uncharacteristic ways. 

But she never did.

Aizalea got upset with him for nipping or scratching and would tell him so, but had yet to lock him away and ignore him. Which, was part of why he slowly began to feel that it might be okay to allow himself to be closer to her. A little bit? It was something that he kept going back and forth on, especially with his nerves on edge lately. He’d been thinking about what all had happened the last time that he’d been on Earth - what had been the reason he’d been sent there; the torture preceding and the one responsible… It was the cause of his more frequent nightmares - and; subsequently, the reluctant relenting of his stance on staying up on Izzy’s bed. It was not so bad, he decided. She always allowed him to curl up on one of her pillows, as close to or as far away from her as he chose; if she thought that he may be cold, Izzy would reach for a blanket and put it over him. He usually really wasn’t that cold, but the thought was nice. 

Aside from slowly becoming more agreeable in nature, he found himself slowly giving in to the new - if a bit odd - instincts and urges that he had, as a cat. One of which, being to actually play with the toys that had been gotten for him. To his surprise, there were some of them that he quite enjoyed; ones meant to be mentally stimulating, or the ones with the stuff in it that was apparently known as “catnip.” Whatever the stuff was, it was amazing! …Though also a bit embarrassing later on, when the effect had worn off. 

When not in the kitty condo, carting around a toy, or getting healed up by Izzy, he had taken to exploring more of the apartment. There was a lot to it, and everything from this angle looked a lot bigger than it would of, had he been a person at the time. He was sure of that. 

There were plenty of places where he could lay in the sun - as he’d discovered was quite delightful - rooms to peek inside of and investigate and things nearly everywhere to climb on. Which, he’d learned, seemed to be another one of those odd ‘instincts’ that he’d found he now had: to climb up on everything and anything that he could get up to, whether he technically should, or not. 

In the end, none of this compared to when Izzy would sit and read to him. Whether on a pillow beside her or in her lap so he could see the pictures too, it was calming. Her reading voice was clear and concise; he nearly felt sometimes like he was inside the stories that she was telling, it was truly amazing. In all his years, very few had such a gift for reading this way. Couple this with her habit of running her fingers through his fur or scratching the top of his head as she read to him, and it made for quite an experience. It was quickly becoming yet another thing that he thought to be delightful; yet, he also found that it made him feel bad. 

She had given so much, and yet he’d still not given her so much as a name of which she could call him by… 

                                   ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ 🐾 ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“Ugh..” Izzy sighed, running her hands through her dark hair. She was hoping to get this song done before they had to start booking performances again. It was supposed to be the leading song for the album that they were trying to put together, but it just wasn’t coming out right at all. Digging her nails into her scalp and shutting her eyes, Izzy gripped her hair so tightly that it was starting to hurt her head. Ash and Luna had gone to hang out with their brother, so she was the only one here except for the kitty - that she still didn’t have anything to call by.

Getting her breath hard, she let go of her hair and sort of limply fell forward. She’d been at this for a good couple of hours now, and it was driving her crazy. Nothing that she put down sounded right, or like it fit together, and she was so frustrated with it. It was not only supposed to be the first song on the list of their new album, but their manager/agent had stated that he wanted her to write it all on her own. Ash and Luna weren’t allowed to help her, he’d made that pretty clear. And the stress of it was getting to her..again. This was why she almost didn’t notice the feeling of her hair being pawed at, from the end of the couch. 

“You’re crying.” Blue-green eyes stared up at her from where he sat on the floor, a matter-of-fact tone in how he’d spoken to her. As “matter-of-fact” as one who was currently a cat could be, anyways. 

Sitting up a bit and wiping her eyes with the palms of her hand, she sniffed. “How observant of you,” she sighed, her brows creasing together. She had a lopsided smile on her face, but it wasn’t fooling him. He knew she was upset. He could feel it, somehow; or..almost smell it, maybe? Whatever it was, he knew that she wasn’t having a great time right now. That much was evident. Even despite that she’d tried to repeat back to him what he’d said to her the first time that he’d spoken to her. It was in part..especially because of that, really. 

“You aren’t funny, Aizalea. I can see that you’re upset, I’m color-impaired right now. Not stupid.” He stated, giving her what she could only think was his attempt at a ‘knowing’ look. To which, she rolled her eyes. 

“No. But you are a smart-aleck,” Izzy answered him, offering a smirk and trying to boop his nose with her finger. It earned her the funniest of looks, and a moment of silence, that she couldn’t help but to laugh at even though she’d been so frustrated with her song not coming out how she wanted it to. 

“Hmph.” Giving her an indignant look and swatting at her when she tried to do it again, he sat up straighter. “Be that as it may, you are avoiding my question. So, tell me. What is it?” He pressed her, gaining a frown in response. She didn’t seem to want to let him see it, whatever it was. 

“..I’m trying to write a song. It’s for the new album that we’re supposed to be putting together..it’s the first one, I saved it for last because our manager wanted me to do it by myself. And I’ve been stuck on it, I can’t think of what to write. I have half a song, and can’t think of anything else. Nothing that I’ve tried makes sense!” Aizalea sighed, hiding her face in her hands. A short amount of time passed by before she finally looked up again; when she didn’t see him anymore, she was going to ask where he had gone off to - when she then felt paws walking up her back. 

“Let me see,” he meowed at her, nudging her cheek and peeking over her shoulder. 

“Hey, what’re you-” Izzy looked over at him and exhaled slowly. “Alright, but you won’t be able to understand it…” she muttered, adding “Persistent thing.” Moving the page over, she finally let him see it. It looked like a mix of musical symbols, and then a bunch of..weird squiggles..to him. Again. To hide his frustration with this, he stared at it awhile longer before answering her. 

“Well, what do you expect from one named Loki?”