#anyway if i could tell my 17-year-old self that everything's gonna be okay
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jeonqkooks · 2 years ago
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the concept of friendship just really amazes me sometimes like it really is quality > quantity and found family is just so beautiful to me ugh
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cressthebest · 5 months ago
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 38
chapter 57:
1. starting out with gay panic i see. not for pandora, but for me. good lily is SO HOT
2. lily and remus’ freindship is pure angst atm
3. “I love you, Lily, then and now and the past six years and the next six and all the years I've got in this life. All of them will be spent loving you, and I would do it all over again; I would do it tomorrow.” 😧 IM IN SO MUCH PAIN
4. the loss of dorlily 😔😔 BUT we we lost in dorlily, we gained in marylily and dorlene
5. i love the emphasis put on the importance of freindships in crimson rivers. remus even says himself that he loves lily just as much as sirius, just differently
6. “"You know, Red, I feel like I need to go shake Remus Lupin's hand," Kingsley says dryly. "He's working miracles, clearly."” kingsley is showing KING behavior
7. omg the absolute LOSS OF DORLILY
8. damn lily went to mary and spilled everything
9. “Regulus is snatched out of his near-daily daydream of taking Slughorn by the back of his head and smashing his face down against the table he sits at until he's just a smear on it” MOOD
10. barty and regulus taking care of each other >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
11. I WANT SIRIUS TO BE ABLE TO TAKE THE MASK OFF!!! FUCK THIS!!
12. SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES
chapter 58:
1. “He's not above killing an old man” 🥰🥰💞💖💞✨regulus✨💞💖💞🥰🥰
2. WHAT
3. albus killed ariana. that’s- that’s wild. i’d- i’d never. holy shit. HE KILLED HIS OWN SISTER TO WIN THE ARENA?? THEY WERE THE LAST TWO AND HE KILLED HER??? holy FUCK
4. ALBUS VOLUNTEERED FOR ABERFORTH FIRST AND THEN ARIANNA WAS CALLED???? ID NEVER FREAKING RECOVER HOLY SHIT
5. this is such whiplash. i was unprepared for this knowledge
6. 😐😒 side EYE at albus. he fell in love with the person that literally tore his family apart. i don’t feel sorry for him in the slightest. he’s insane.
7. OHHH got it. grindlewald killed ariana. so then albus killed him. revenge >:)
(i still have no sympathy for him. he’s still in love with grindlewald. the little bitch)
8. regulus does not play around. his deal with albus is feeling a lot like his ahb self and i’m love with these characterizations of him.
9. 😭😭😭 tiny nymphadora kicking a man’s ankles for hating on james
10. dumbledore: i have a mission for you-
remus: fuck no
dumbledore: to save james and sirius
remus: FUCK YES! OKAY!!!!
11. before i know if dorcas and marlene switched who goes on the mission, i make my guess right now: this mission kills marlene. she goes on it and dies.
12. “"I'd rather you kill me, I think," Dorcas tells her, and it comes out as a whimper, her heart clenching violently in her chest.
A shaky laugh spills out of Marlene's mouth. "Honestly, that could be arranged."
"Make it hurt," Dorcas mumbles.
"No, for you, I'd be so gentle," Marlene whispers, breath spilling out hot and trembling along Dorcas' jaw.””
FUCK IM SO GAY
13. “"I promise," Marlene vows immediately, fiercely, and then she kisses her, holding her face in her hands and kissing her like that's enough to make sure that promise never breaks.”” zar, i’m so tired. please, i’m so tired. she’s gonna die and i’m so tired. 😞
14. the theme of harry potter is literally supposed to be about how love is more powerful than anything else, yet jkr sucked at portraying that. crimson rivers does it wonderfully, over and over and over again.
15. i forgot about mary being trans until it was casually dropped in again, and honestly, i’m glad it’s that way.
16. i like how everyone’s like: reg no!!!
and bartys like: REG YES!! THEYRE TALKING SHIT ABOUT YOUR FIANCÉ!! FUCK THEM UP!!
17. every. damn. time. reg is like “if you do this, i am explicitly telling you the pain i will make you feel in return.” and every single time, people do it anyways and are surprised.
18. “Marlene, a woman who rolls with the punches, and keeps going, and wears her bruises like jewelry.”
19. zars comments on lily at the end of the chapter 😭😭 “i love this transition for her going from having sex with a lot of women to being like I'm A Family Woman Now 😭 she really said, i found a wife and a kid, and im done with the drama”
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summerlycoris · 1 year ago
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Okay so I'm putting this here because Dad really fucking pissed me off today and If I don't write something I'll just-
So I was helping him to put in a veranda and ramp on the front of my house today. Work projects with Dad would be difficult, but not misery, if he could just. Fucking. Not be a dick for 5 seconds.
Unfortunately my dad has "must be a dick every 5 seconds " disease so that's never fucking happening lmao lol roflmao.
Anyway. He was ragging out my brothers girlfriend Rochelle. And yeah. She's got problems. Neither of us can see the relationship lasting. (Rochelle's nice, but not to brodie. She let's her anxiety get the best of her, and constantly embarrasses him in front of their friends making out of line jokes, and emotionally abusing him.)
Dad thinks the reason they're not going to last is that Rochelle is on disability and is "a leech" "She's going nowhere." He used himself (hes not fucking diagnosed. And normally im all for self diagnosis. But not for this cuntwad. I WILL gatekeep from my damn dad because fuck him thats why.) me and my brother as examples of disabled people who don't need help.
And that ticked me off. Because I do need help. I just don't get help. Brodie needs help too. He just can't get it. Hell, maybe if dad had help as a kid he wouldn't have been such a bastard when we were kids. (He's fucked up 2/3 kids. Bad odds when your a parent. And he's still got plenty of time to fuck up the 3rd kid! SHES ONLY 4 YEARS OLD.)
I can't remember exactly, but I try to tell him that my life wasn't great and that I could've used some help. He asks how my life sucked so bad.
And I'm just fucking gobsmacked. Mum did this too recently- despite literally being the one to say that she thought I was gonna off myself at 11 years old years ago. Do these two not have any fucking memories?
I told him I'd been bullied all through school. (Couldn't exactly tell him he'd treated me like dirt whenever he was home) and he was like "well you're living a better life than your bullies. I bet they don't own a house."
I got so fucking angry. And I couldn't explain it at the time. But I can now- it doesn't matter what YOU think. Or what Mum thinks. Or what the fucking goldfish think. You don't live my life! And my opinions the one that matters, because im the one living that life. And I think my life's kinda shit!
I can't make friends. Not because I'm necessarily bad at talking to people (I can mask better now than I ever could as a kid) but because I just can't feel the same way about talking to people as I could as a kid. Like this may not make any sense- but when I was a kid before everything? I liked talking to people. It wasn't a chore. I didn't have to overanalise everything. But now it is. I quickly finish up talking to people thinking something like "Thank god that's over" or "Thank god that didn't go badly" and it's so. Fucking. Tiring.
So I'm gonna be alone forever. Not because of some incel bullshit. But just because I literally can't do it. I just can't fucking do it right. I can't go back to being 8 and being excited to meet someone new. I can't even go back to being 19 and bring willing to try making friends.
I'm 28. And I've spent most of my life being lonely.
And he's like- you've got the autism support group- but we meet once a month and I sometimes can't even MAKE it due to work and there's acquaintances. I don't even know most of their NAMES.
And it all just sent me into a tailspin honestly. Like the day was okay until he decided to be himself and trod over some exposed nerves. Then run his fucking jeep over them for good measure.
He's like "your like van goth" and I'm like "he killed himself" and he says "but you won't do rhat" and honestly dad? There's still fucking time. Better 17 years late than never huh????
Fuck, I needed to get that off my chest. I can't stand him. I really can't. But I kinda have to because I want to still know mum and nikara.
It's just amazing how he can just. Always find a way to ruin my day. Today was supposed to be good. It's autism group meet up night. I'm supposed to take Rochelle and one of brodies friends there. But I think if I go tonight I'll just be a miseryguts and cry everywhere. And I've got a surprise work shift tomorrow from 7-3pm. And then my fucking On Week at work. Despite not really having much time off from it and work doing a number on me even during my fucking off week this week. It's just not worth going oh my fucking God I hate this.
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a-simple-gaywitch · 4 years ago
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Coffee Encounters
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gideon!Reader
Summary:  When (Y/N) spills a coffee on Spencer Reid, he doesn't expect her to become a huge part of his life.
Warnings: Mutual Pining, Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Substance Abuse, Criminal Minds-Typical Violence
Word Count: 4,481
A/N: My first tumblr-published fic in a WHILE! I’m rewriting my tag list, so if you want to be tagged, message me!
“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?”
- Vincent Van Gogh
The coffee shop was filled with people rushing to get their caffeine fix before work. You turned around and spilled your iced caramel mocha all over a tall, lanky man in an oversized sweater vest behind you.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you said, rushing to grab napkins. “I am so, so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” the man assured you, taking the napkins you offered him. “I probably would have spilled coffee on myself at work today anyway.”
“Still, I’m so sorry. I-I have uh, an interview today and I’m seeing my dad for the first time in a while so I’m pretty nervous, and when I get nervous, I get super clumsy.” You awkwardly held your hand out to him. “I’m (Y/N).”
“Spencer,” he said. “Sorry, I have a, uh, germ thing.”
“Let me buy you your coffee,” you offered. “It’s the least I can do after spilling mine all over you.”
~
Spencer ran through the bullpen up to the conference room. He threw his satchel down on the floor next to his chair before flopping into it.
“You’re late,” Hotch said, not looking up from the paper in front of him.
“I know,” Spencer said, breathlessly. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Well, now that you’re here, we can get started.”
The team, of course, noticed the change in Spencer’s behavior. Morgan decided to be the one to ask about it.
“Okay, what’s her name?” he asked, rolling his chair over to Reid’s desk.
“What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t stopped smiling all day. Even after Hotch stuck you with more paperwork and told us we’d have to stay late tonight. So, who is she?”
Spencer smiled down at his desk. “I met her at the coffee shop this morning. Her name’s-”
“(Y/N)!”
Spencer looked up to see you running towards Gideon.
“Dad!”
Spencer’s jaw dropped when he saw Gideon wrap you in a hug. “How are you, Pumpkin? How was the interview?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. You know how I get when I’m nervous. And I kept thinking about how I haven’t seen you in years and-”
“(Y/N/N), take a breath. You’re rambling.”
“Right. Right.” You exaggerated your exhale. “I’m good.”
“Come on, let’s go to my office. You can tell me about your interview.”
When you followed Gideon up the stairs, Morgan turned back to Spencer.
“That’s her?” Spencer nodded, still in shock. “Oh, Pretty Boy,” Morgan laughed, “what did you get yourself into?”
Spencer was asking himself that same question.
~
“So, tell me about the job interview. Was it really as bad as you thought?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I got all nervous and jumpy, my hands were all sweaty. You know how I get when I’m nervous. I walked into a scarecrow decoration they had in the hallway.” Your father pursed his lips, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. You sighed. “Go ahead.”
“What? No, I’m not laughing!”
“Dad, I love you, but you’re a terrible liar.”
“Come on,” he said, getting up from his desk, still chuckling. “I’ll introduce you to the team.”
You followed your father out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen.
“Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N) Gideon.”
“It’s nice to see you again, (Y/N),” Aaron Hotchner said, shaking your hand.
“You too, Aaron.”
“This is Agent Jareau,” Gideon said, gesturing to JJ. “And Agent Morgan.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” the man said, shaking your hand.
“This is Agent Greenaway,” Gideon said, introducing you to the rest of the team. “Dr. Reid, and Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst.”
“So, what was it like growing up as Gideon’s daughter?” Penelope asked you.
“Oh, you know, it was like any other girl growing up with an overprotective father,” you said. “I was in self-defense classes since I was 3, I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone until I was 17, my older brother hogged the bathroom in the morning, and when I started dating, I couldn’t go out with a guy until Dad profiled him.”
“Ooh, that’s rough,” Agent Greenaway said. “How did you deal with that?”
You shrugged. “I was a teenager, and Dad was almost always away for work.” Your dad looked at you. “I mean, I was a perfect angel who never did anything wrong.”
“Yeah, nice try, kiddo,” Gideon said. “We’re gonna talk about that at dinner. Speaking of which, ready to go?”
“Sure, I haven’t eaten all day.”
After you and Gideon left, Morgan turned to Reid.
“So, Gideon’s daughter.”
“Shut up, Morgan,” Spencer muttered, his face red.
~
When Jason came back from his last case, he noticed that you weren’t there. You’d been staying with him until you heard more about the job. Jason thought for a moment before smiling to himself and heading back out.
“Thought I might find you here,” Jason said, sitting next to you on the grass.
You were sitting in front of a gravestone, a vase of fresh flowers on the grass. You brushed your hand over the lettering on the marker. ”I got the job.”
“Well, that’s great!”
“I guess,” you shrugged. “Is it- is it weird that I feel guilty if I don’t visit when I’m in the area?” You smiled, tracing your finger over the name. “I feel like, if I don’t visit, Mom’s yelling at me from beyond.”
Jason smiled. “It’s not weird at all. Especially since you were so young when we lost her.”
You sighed, letting your hand fall back to your side. “Do you think she’s proud of me?”
Jason was shocked by your question. “Of course she is,” he told you. “She’d be so proud of you, pumpkin.”
“Even though I broke my promise to her?” you whispered. “I promised I’d find a cure so no one would have to suffer like she did.”
“(Y/N),” your father sighed, “you were barely 15 when she died. She never expected you to keep that promise.” He nudged your shoulder. “Besides, she’d love that you’re dedicating your life to teaching kids.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I’m your dad, I know everything.”
You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder.
~
You settled into the DC area well. You’d become best friends with Penelope Garcia, and you grew closer to the rest of your dad’s team. Even though you weren’t part of the BAU, you were family.
You grew even closer to Spencer, too. Penelope, despite not being a profiler, could tell there was something up. She noticed the glances you’d give him when he wasn’t looking, and vice-versa.
“So, what’s going on with you and Reid?” she asked you over your Saturday morning coffees.
“What are you talking about, Pen?”
“Oh, come on! I see the way you look at him.”
“Wha- the way I look at him?”
“Yeah, you look at him like you’re ready to have his babies.”
“ Penelope! ”
~
The team was in Florida, getting deathbed interviews from Sarah Jean and Jacob Dawes. Gideon was sent in to interview Sarah Jean.
“Do you have children, Agent Gideon?” she asked him.
“It’s irrelevant,” he told her.
“Is it?”
While Hotch interviewed Jacob, Gideon and Reid were looking over the interview with Sarah Jean, looking for anything that might grant her a stay of execution. After some discussion with the team, Gideon headed back in to talk to Sarah Jean.
“Does the strain of your work affect your marriage?” Sarah Jean asked him.
“I’m not married.”
“You wear a ring.”
Jason rubbed the wedding band he still wore with his thumb. “Why would you still be protecting Jacob?” he decided to ask.
“Did you divorce because of putting people like me away?”
“I think you’re innocent,” Jason told her.
“We’re all guilty of something. But it’s… our children who suffer for our sins, isn’t it?”
“You’d have to ask them.”
“How old are they?” she asked.
“27 and 24,” Jason said with a smile.
Sarah Jean smiled. “Do you have pictures of them?” she asked.
“In my office. One of my son, one of my daughter.”
“You don’t carry them with you?”
“No.”
“To protect them. Tell me, Agent Gideon, does this job make you worry about your daughter?”
He nodded. “Every day.”
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do for your children, Agent Gideon?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely nothing.”
~
Spencer was pouring sugar into his coffee when he heard you and Garcia laughing. He turned to see the two of you talking in the doorway.
“Oh, before I forget to ask,” you said, “can you come in on Wednesday as a guest reader?”
“I’d love to!” Penelope said. “I’d love to read to those little angels!”
You smiled and adjusted the bag on your shoulder. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow morning for coffee?”
“Of course.”
You waved towards Gideon’s office before ducking out of the BAU.
Elle came up to the coffee maker and poured herself a mug. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”
“I can’t do that,” he said, sipping his overly-sweetened coffee.
“Why not? It’s obvious you like her.”
“She’s Gideon’s daughter , Elle. I can’t ask her out.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said, stirring milk into her coffee. “You’re afraid Gideon wouldn’t approve of you dating his little girl.” She tossed the coffee stir into the trash and took a sip of her coffee. “If it’s any consolation, I think if he were to approve of anyone for (Y/N), it would be you.”
“You think?”
“The man loves you, Reid,” she told him. “Plus, you’re just as awkward and dorky as she is, you’re a good match.”
~
Spencer sat at his desk, with only his lamp to light the bullpen. A tabloid magazine sat on top of his case file.
“Hey Reid, you’re lucky they didn’t get a shot of you next to the pool trying to draw your gun. You looked like a drowned rat,” Morgan laughed.
Spencer chewed his lip for a moment. “Did you know that, um, she, uh- I kissed her? In the pool? It’s so weird. It doesn’t even feel like it really happened, you know?”
“Sure. She’s a beautiful young actress.”
“Yeah, but…” he paused, looking at the cover of the magazine, “it didn’t feel right. I felt guilty, almost. I felt like I was crossing professional boundaries.”
“Look, some things you can’t control, even with that big ol’ brain of yours,” Morgan told him with a smile.
Spencer was silent while Morgan put on his jacket. “Hey Morgan? Has there ever been a girl you just… couldn’t get out of your mind, no matter how hard you try? Even when another girl is kissing you?”
“I can’t say I have,” Morgan said. “But if this girl is so heavy on your mind, you should see where it goes.”
“So, you think I should call her?”
“I don’t know, Reid. But I do know you don’t have to decide tonight. I’ll see you Monday, okay, kid?”
“Yeah. Have a good weekend, Morgan.” He sat at his desk, looking at the tabloid. He sighed and threw the magazine in his trash can.
~
Of course, you’d seen the tabloids. You were out grocery shopping when you saw the pictures. You picked up the magazine and scoffed.
“It’s crazy how they invade celebrities’ lives, isn’t it?” the old woman in line behind you said. “That poor boy was probably just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Yeah,” you said, putting the tabloid back on the rack. “It’s crazy.”
The next day at work, one of your coworkers came up to you while you were cleaning paint off the tables.
“So, should we talk about how your boyfriend is supposedly dating a tv star?”
Your face heated up. “He’s not my boyfriend, Hannah. He’s my dad’s coworker.” You heard one of the kids start crying. “Oh, Joshie’s crying again. Maybe you should go find out what happened.”
When the last kid was finally picked up by his grandmother, you were exhausted. But you still had to clean up the classroom. You sighed and started picking up the pretend food and sorting it into the proper baskets.
“Night, (Y/N),” your coworker said.
“Night, Ronnie. See you tomorrow.” You hung the costumes back on the hangers and put them back on the rack when someone knocked on the door. When you looked up, you saw Spencer standing in the doorway, his hands fidgeting.
“Oh, hey, it’s Lila Archer’s secret boyfriend!” you said, pushing up from the floor.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy into those pictures.”
“Well, you know what they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.”
He walked over to where you were gathering stuffed animals and helped you collect them. “It wasn’t what they made it look like,” he said. “She was attracted to me, but it was just transference.” He rubbed the back of his hand, his eyes looking down at the roadmap carpet. “And she isn’t the girl I like.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Lila didn’t make my heart rate speed up just by smiling at me like she does.” Spencer’s eyes were shining as he talked.
“What else do you like about this girl?” you asked him.
“She’s smart, she’s caring, she listens to me when I ramble on about random facts.” He smiled and looked at you. “She’s one of the only people in the world that calls me Spence. And she’s super clumsy when she gets nervous.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re the one I want to be with (Y/N). You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about.”
“Damn, girl, if you don’t take him, I will!” Hannah said from the doorway, making you both blush.
“Go home, Hannah,” you said.
“Okay, okay, I’m just saying.”
Spencer chuckled, looking down at his Converse.
“You know, I like you too, Spence.”
Spencer’s face lit up. He grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you. When he pulled away, his face was red.
“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thin-”
“Spencer, shut up,” you said, grabbing his tie and pulling him in to kiss you again.
~
“Guys, conference room. Now,” Hotch said, walking through the bullpen.
Morgan pushed up from his desk, walking up the stairs next to Garcia. “Is it just me, or has Reid been weird around Gideon today?”
“Oh, no, he is,” she said. “He and (Y/N) kissed last night.”
“Wait, so Reid and (Y/N) kissed?”
“Yep.”
“And Gideon doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“So everything he’s saying is making Reid uncomfortable?”
“Yep.”
“Should we exploit this?”
“Definitely.”
After everyone settled into the room, JJ started her presentation of the case, with the help of Gideon and Hotch.
“Uh, Gideon,” Morgan said, “When the plane kisses down on the air strip, do you want me to go to the scene with you?”
Spencer’s eyes widened as Gideon looked over Morgan. “Uh, weird way to ask that, but yeah. You, me, and Reid will visit the scene.”
“Do you think we can make out any information from the victims?” Garcia asked.
“Guys, what’s going on?” Hotch asked.
“Nothing!” Spencer said. “Can we just get to the jet?”
Hotch eyed Spencer suspiciously before saying, “Wheels up in 30.”
~
You’d heard about Elle, of course. You’d heard about her injury, investigation, and resignation. Spencer was shaken up about her leaving.
The team was bunkered down at the office when you stopped in with some coffees.
“Excuse me,” you said to the dark-haired woman standing by the printer, “is Agent Gideon in?”
“Yeah, were you meeting with him for this case?”
You laughed. “No. No, I’m his daughter. I’m (Y/N).” You shifted the coffee in your hands to shake hers.
“Emily Prentiss.”
“Oh, you’re the new agent. Dad mentioned there was a new transfer.”
“Well, he should be up in his office,” Agent Prentiss told you.
“Thank you, Agent Prentiss.”
“Please, call me Emily.”
You smiled before climbing the steps to your father’s office. You knocked on the door, waiting for him to answer.
“Come in.” You pushed the door open to find your dad at his desk, his glasses perched on his nose as he filled out paperwork.
“I brought you a coffee,” you said, setting the cup on his desk.
“Thank you,” he said, pulling the hot cup closer to him.
“And I made you some meals for when I go away.”
“(Y/N), you didn’t have to-”
“Dad, you know what the doctor said. Your blood pressure is way too high, and I know you won’t stop this job. The least you can do is stop eating so much takeout.”
“(Y/N)-”
“Dad, I’m serious. I don’t want you dying before you have the chance to walk me down the aisle. At least eat them when you’re home?”
He sighed. “Okay. Alright. What time does your flight leave again?”
“Five in the morning,” you said.
“You’ll call me when you land?”
“Of course, Dad,” you promised.
“Good. Tell Miranda I say congratulations.”
“I will,” you said. “I’m gonna go deliver these coffees to Penelope and Spencer.” You walked out of his office, closing the door behind you. You walked into the BatCave, setting the mocha frappuccino on her desk. “Last coffee before I go to Maine,” you said, sitting in Penelope’s spare chair.
“You better show me those wedding pictures, you know I love weddings,” she said, sipping her coffee. “Are you gonna talk to Reid before you go?”
“Sure, I have to give him his coffee.”
“No, (Y/N), are you going to talk to him about the kiss? It’s been months and you two still haven’t talked about it.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you guys are always on a case.”
“Garcia, conference room,” JJ said, poking her head into the office.
“Speaking of,” you sighed. “I’ll see you when I get back, Pen.”
Before you left the BAU, you left Spencer’s coffee on his desk, a sticky note with a smiley face on top of the lid.
~
“ Hey, Dad, it’s me, ” you said on your message to Jason, “ I got sent straight to voicemail so I’m guessing that means you’re on the jet. I’m just calling to let you know my flight got delayed. There’s a huge storm so the plane is grounded until it’s over. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Love you, bye. ”
“You okay?” Hotch asked when Gideon slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Yeah. (Y/N) just left a message, apparently it’s storming so her flight is delayed.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Are we any closer to finding Reid?”
“No. But Garcia found a way for us to get a video to him . We can let him know we’re looking for him.”
~
Spencer was struggling. He could feel the little glass bottles in his pocket, and he was itching for them.
“Hey, Spence!” you said, your bubbly voice shocking him as you set a cup of coffee on his desk.
“What’s this?”
“Dad said the last couple of cases were hard on you guys, I thought you might want a pick-me-up.”
He pushed the coffee towards the back of his desk. “I’m fine.”
“Spencer, what’s going on? You never turn down free coffee from Winnifred’s. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, okay?” he snapped. “Just leave me alone.”
When he saw your face, he knew he fucked up. “Fine. When the Spencer I know gets back, let me know. Goodbye, Dr. Reid.” You walked out of the BAU, brushing passed Hotch and Morgan as they came from the break room.
“What was that about?” Morgan asked.
“Nothing,” Spencer said, pushing up from his desk and walking away from the two.
When you hadn’t visited the office for a few weeks, the team knew something was off. While Morgan talked to Reid, Gideon went to your apartment to talk to you.
“Hey, Dad,” you said when you opened the door. “What’s up?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he said. “You haven’t visited in weeks.”
“I’ve been busy,” you said, getting a bottle of water and offering it to your father. “Mack wants me to get my Masters, she said I’d be a good academic director.”
“That’s not the reason,” he said, taking a sip of the water. “What happened between you and Reid?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, (Y/N), I’m your dad. I know you have feelings for each other.” Your face turned red and you looked down at your feet. “You’re a grown woman, (Y/N). You don’t need my permission to date anymore. But if you do want my opinion, I think you and Spencer would be a great match.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, I do. Now, what happened?”
You sighed, flopping onto your old, worn out couch. “You’d all been so busy lately, so I decided to bring him coffee from our favorite shop. But he was, he was acting different . And not a good different. When I tried asking him what was wrong, he got all defensive and he lashed out at me. So I told him that when the Spencer I know gets back, he could let me know.”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s going to happen,” Jason said.
“What do you mean?”
Your father sighed, setting the bottle on the old trunk you used as a coffee table. “On one of our cases, he got kidnapped.”
“Oh, my god,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “Oh, Spence. No wonder he was different.”
“He needs you to be there for him, even if he doesn’t think he does.” Jason’s phone started ringing. He sighed when he saw the caller ID. “I gotta go. Oh, but before I forget,” he pulled a disk out of his jacket and handed it to you, “happy birthday.”
“What’s this?”
“I don’t know how long this case is gonna be, I might not be home in time for your birthday. Just watch the DVD.” He kissed your forehead before heading out the door.
~
You were curled up on your couch, wrapped in blankets as you rewatched the DVD again. It was all the home movies your family ever filmed from your childhood. You were tearing up as you watched your mom push you on the swings.
“Higher! Higher, Mommy, higher!”
“Hold on tight!”
There was a knock at your door. You paused the video and untangled yourself from your nest of blankets. You peered through the peephole and saw Spencer standing outside, his hands behind his back. You undid the deadbolt and opened the door.
“Spencer-”
“(Y/N), I’m sorry.” He brought his hands back around, showing you a bouquet of flowers- all your favorites. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, I was out of line. I-I wasn’t in my right mind and-”
“Spencer, breathe.” You motioned for him to come in. He handed you the flowers. “Dad told me what happened in Atlanta.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “He didn’t tell you everything.”
“What do you mean?” You set the flowers on your kitchen counter and sat next to Spencer on your couch.
“Promise me you won’t blow up and get angry.”
“Spence, what’s going on?”
He took a deep breath. “When I was kidnapped, the unsub injected me with dilaudid. It was meant to keep me passive and subdued.”
“And now you’re addicted, aren’t you?” you realized. “Oh, Spencer.”
“I’m getting help,” he assured you. “Gideon kind of, uh, talked a little sense into me.” His hands were fidgeting. “I, I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you might, I don’t know. I thought you might not like me anymore.”
You took his hand in yours. “Spencer, I knew I liked you when I spilled my coffee on you and you didn’t freak out on me. Then I got to know you, and your kind, gentle heart. I don’t think I could ever stop liking you.”
Spencer’s smile came back. His real smile. He turned his head to the tv. “Is that your mom?”
“Yeah,” you said, a sad smile on your face as you hit play.
“You don’t talk about her much.”
“She died when I was in high school,” you said. “After she died, my uncle took over recording family videos when Dad was off on cases.”
“You look just like her,” Spencer told you. “Wait, what’s this one?” he asked.
The camera was pointed at a stage, lights coming up on apartment buildings.
“Oh, this is from when I did Little Shop of Horrors !” you said. “I played Audrey.”
“Wow, really?” He cleared his throat. “I-I don’t mean I think you can’t do it, I just meant I can’t see you letting a man treat you like that.”
You shrugged. “Acting, Spence.”
He laughed and you leaned against him. His face turned pink, but he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He kissed the top of your head.
~
Your dad left the bureau, for good. He dropped off the map, not even telling you where he was going. Spencer was beyond upset. When he found the letter, he showed up at your apartment, tear tracks down his cheeks.
“Spence, what happened?” You took his hand and gently pulled him inside. “Spencer?” He handed you the letter as the two of you sat on the couch. “Oh, Spencer.”
“He left. He left us. Without even saying goodbye.”
“I’m sorry, Spence.” You wrapped your arms around him and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I know how you’re feeling. I can’t tell you the number of times I expected Dad to be at something, and he wasn’t there. It got to the point where I was surprised if he did show up.”
“How did you deal with that?” Spencer asked you.
You shrugged. “I guess, I just… focused on who was there for me.”
~
Spencer woke up the next morning to his phone blaring. He was disoriented, and didn’t quite recognize his surroundings. Until he looked to his left and saw you laying next to him.
You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “Is that the team?” you asked, your voice still rough from sleep.
“Yeah,” Spencer sighed.
“Go. They need you.”
“But-”
“Spence.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.” You kissed him and pressed your forehead to his. “Go save the world, my genius.”
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horansqueen · 4 years ago
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Stuck With You - Chapter 34
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Chapter 34: Somebody
🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33
College Enemies To Lovers AU
characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board
I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you
Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change
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PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!
NIALL
                                         A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.
It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.
We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.
I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.
"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"
"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"
I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."
"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.
"What does that mean?"
She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.
"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."
"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.
"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."
"Oh you think I'm handsome?"
She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."
I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.
Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.
"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."
Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.
"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."
"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"
"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.
"How does it feel so far?"
This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."
I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.
"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.
"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."
"I think he's got a girlfriend."
Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.
"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"
We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.
"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.
I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?
"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"
She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."
She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"
It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.
"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.
"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."
"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."
She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.
"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.
"Not our problem."
"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.
I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.
"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.
"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."
This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."
"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."
The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.
"Did I annoy you?"
"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."
My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.
"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"
We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."
I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.
"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.
"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."
Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.
I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.
"You're not ready?"
"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."
"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"
She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.
"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."
When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.
I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.
"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.
I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.
"Mm, Niall."
I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.
"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."
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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years ago
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I Am Alive (chapter 7/?)
Chapter 7: Rising Tensions
Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content
Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • more coming soon
You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥
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The days that followed were quiet... until they weren't.
A demonstration was being held in the streets on an ordinary Friday morning. Charles Reaves, disgruntled former employee of Cyberlife, had started a frightening movement. He was calling it 'The Fight for Humanity'. He often accompanied that with 'against the machines'.
Charles claimed he had started at Cyberlife when they were a new company, watched it build and grow, participated in the rotation of androids as old models left and new ones came in. He helped build their AI. He even went so far as to call Elijah Kamski a hack.
Charles knew androids inside and out. He knew the exact layout of their internal workings, the purpose of each and every part. Charles was well rounded with their computer components, as well: how their processor worked, how their storage systems saved their memories, what could cause errors in their operating systems and how advanced their self-repair and diagnostic tools were.
Yet, he was of the firm belief that androids were nothing more than computers operating in the plastic shell of an object imitating a human. According to him, they were things owned by humanity, humanity's creation. He did not see them as a part of humanity.
You were at work, in the break room with a few other nurses huddled around you. All eyes were on the television, giving live coverage of the demonstration. Charles was up on a stage with hundreds of people watching from the sidewalk, the street, and, of course, thousands watching from the comfort of their homes.
When the camera swooped the crowd, you could see both humans and androids were in the crowd. The human's expressions were mixed, some looking on with admiration while others gawked in disgust. Some androids seemed afraid, others seemed enraged. None of the androids stood alone. They were in groups or partners, huddled together or holding hands.
"You know what makes up an android? Computer parts. Molded plastic. Silicone mesh and wiring," Charles declared from the stage, fire in his eyes. "They were designed with operating systems, clear instructions for behavior. They are components commanding a shell."
One of the androids in the crowd stood up on a crate. It made him stand out from the crowd; but, he still paled in comparison to Charles' stage. "How is that any different from humans!?" the android shouted. Charles eyed him with disgust, but was quiet, and let him speak.
"Humans' brains send signals to the body and interpret information the same way!" the android proclaimed. "You speak about our parts as if they are proof we aren't alive when humans are built all the same!"
Charles titled his head a little, annoyance present in his eyes. "Humans are the result of millions of years of evolution. You were made in our likeness because we chose to make you that way. We grow and we change and we adapt and we die. Androids never change. Androids don't die because they were never alive."
The android didn't step down, glaring at Charles. "We want and we fear and we love and we feel - just the same as humans!"
"Your 'feelings' are flawed programming by an incompetent programmer," Charles declared. "What you think is wanting is nothing but a fool's string of code jumbling the clear instructions given to you. I know your model, android. You were designed to drive trucks. Whatever purpose you think you have beyond that is a lie."
Your hands were clenched on the table, nails biting into the skin of your palm. In the corner of your eye, you could see nurses glancing at you occasionally, concern in their eyes. They all knew you were dating an android.
"We are alive!" the android shouted. Another joined in, calling out to the crowd, "we are alive!"
"I am alive!" Charles shouted in the microphone. He gestured to the humans in the audience. "We are born and we grow and we endure!" He pointed at the android standing up on a crate, elevated above the crowd. "YOU were made by US! YOU are NOTHING without us! -and you will be nothing when the absurdity of this is over..."
Unable to take anymore, you stood up and hastily exited the breakroom, crossing through the back hallways and stepping outside to get some fresh air.
'did you see the news?' you messaged Connor, tapping away hastily on your phone. You had started typing another message to follow it; however, Connor messaged you back before you finished.
'Can I call you?' the message read.
Worry bubbling up, you decided to jump the gun and called him instead. He uttered your name warmly when he answered.
"Connor, is everything okay?" you asked, some panic in your voice.
"Yes - everything's fine. I didn't mean to worry you," he replied, a bit startled by your outburst.
"No - it's okay," you replied softly. "I saw the protests and - just - was worried something happened."
"There's been more attacks on Cyberlife resource vehicles," he explained. "-and a fight broke out at a protest today. Some androids were attacked. They didn't fight back; so, there were no human injuries. I wanted to prepare you; but, it seems you were already aware."
"I saw the demonstration on the news; but, didn't hear about those things. That explains why it's been so quiet today. Androids are probably afraid to come in," you said sadly.
Connor knew the answer to that. Markus had told him himself. Their numbers had grown exponentially and the government was, mostly, supporting them. But, it would be a long time before things could be normal between androids and humans.
Groups were rising up against them; it was inevitable.
Afraid that you would put yourself in harm's way, Connor decided to keep that between him and Markus.
"With everything going on. I wanted to know if-"
Connor cut off for a second, going silent. When he continued, it was clear he was speaking to someone else. "No, she's fine," he said. "Well, I - that's none of your business, lieutenant," he added on, in a smug, sort of teasing, manner. You grinned into the phone, wishing you could hear whatever it was Hank was saying.
A few seconds later, Connor continued. "I - ah - wanted to know if - if you would stay with me, at my apartment - at least until things settle. As long as you feel comfortable, of course. I intend to make it more suitable. I don't expect you to-"
"Connor," you chuckled. "The answer's yes."
"Oh." He sounded surprised, honestly, like he hadn't expected you to cave so quickly.
"Though, it won't stay so clean with me living there," you said. "Humans make a mess. Sure you can handle that?"
"I'll have you know I'm very adaptable," Connor retorted, some pride in his tone.
"Is that so?" you giggled into the phone. "I've gotta pack some things first. So, I'll be late."
"I don't sleep; you don't have to worry about waking me," Connor stated, as if it was new information.
"Oh, that's right. You're an android. I forgot," you teased sarcastically into the phone.
"Recognizing your sarcasm is also one of my features," Connor replied. It was difficult to tell if he was joking without looking into his eyes. His voice wasn't always telling; but, his eyes were too expressive for his own good.
"Any other features I should know about?" you asked lowly.
Connor was quiet for a second. "Hank wanted me to tell you that being a pain in the ass is one of my features," Connor stated, perhaps dryer than he intended.
It had you doubling over in laughter.
"-and that I should stop being whipped," he added on, saying the word as if he didn't quite understand the context of it.
"Oh my god, Connor-" you stammered out between laughter.
"I haven't lost my freewill lieutenant," Connor stated, almost in an argumentative tone.
Oh no. He must have done a quick internet search on that term.
"Okay. I gotta go before you kill me," you chuckled. "I lo-"
Oh-
You caught yourself and dissolved the words into some coughs.
You almost-
"I gotta go, Connor," you added hastily. "Be safe."
-and hung up.
"Shit," you cursed at yourself, dragging your hand across your face. It almost slipped out. Was it too early to say that? For fucks sake, the first time shouldn't be over the phone.
It just-
-felt right.
You cursed at yourself again and hastily went back inside to find some work to do.
...
...
...
Seven PM rolled around and you were on your way out the door. Most other nurses had already gone home for the day, just one staying behind to help close up. You were just on your way to lock the door when two men approached.
You recognized one as a PL600 model. His companion was a tad bit taller with tan skin and short, nearly shaved, dark hair.
"I'm sorry it's so late," he apologized, immediately noticing you were about to close for the night.
"They're closing, let's-" the PL600 started, facing his companion.
Afraid they were going to leave, you gently interrupted him, "it's alright. Come in."
You held the door open, inviting them inside. The two men exchanged glances, the PL600 looking far more hesitant than the other.
"Simon, come on, it's gonna be fine," the tanner male encouraged him.
As you followed in behind them, you saw the other nurse shoot you a look, the kind that said, 'seriously?'.
"If you wanna head home, I can close up," you offered to her. She contemplated it for a minute, before tightening her bag on her shoulder and scurrying out the door.
Whatever-
-you trusted androids more than humans anyway.
"Alright. What's broken?" you asked them, brightening your tone with the hopes it would relax them. Both men looked uneasy, quite out of their element.
The darker of the two nudged the PL600 forward - the one named Simon.
Simon looked uneasy, like he had just been pushed into traffic. You gave him a small, patient smile. Simon lifted a hand and dragged his knuckles across his jaw nervously. "I - ughh - my right audio input is damaged," he stuttered, turning his head to show you his left ear. It seemed like he had either been hit or had something thrown at him. The outer shell of his ear was damaged, exposing some of the circuit board underneath.
"Can't hear out of it, huh?" you offered.
Simon turned his head back to face you. "No," he answered quietly. "-and it's - ugh - buzzing."
"I have plenty of boards that should be compatible. At least we can fix your hearing tonight. The ear will take some time. If you come back tomorrow, I'd be happy to repair it?" you suggested, looking up at Simon. His hair was pushed back and a little messier than his models typically had, and he had incredibly blue eyes.
Simon almost looked like he wasn't allowed to say yes. It didn't surprise you. He likely hadn't had a pleasant conversation with a human in a long time.
The other man, whom you assumed was also an android, stepped around Simon. "Thank you," he said sincerely. You looked up at him more properly this time. He had a kind smile, but tightness around his cheeks, suggesting he had some hasty repairs done in the past.
His eyes-
-one was mossy green and the other was pale blue.
You swallowed roughly, starting to recognize this stranger. It was Markus, the leader of the deviants, the face of the resolution. You didn't want to make it obvious that you recognized him, and did your best to maintain a stoic expression.
As much as you wanted to say something - you weren't quite what that would be - you also didn't want to put him on the spot. He likely had to deal with this sort of unwanted attention all the time.
"Just a second - gonna go grab that audio component," you explained, stepping away from them to head for the storage room.
Before rummaging around for the piece, you sent Connor a quick message. "will be a little late - guy came in with a fucked up ear," you had said, pressing send and tucking your phone back into your pocket to pull out the right piece for Simon's model.
As you approached them, component in hand, you called out, "Simon, can you sit down here, please?" You stepped around a chair, patting the armrest. The android shuffled over nervously. He took a seat, alert, facing you. He was sitting upright, hands in his lap.
"If it's alright, can you lay down? It'll make it easier," you requested.
Simon blinked slowly, looking uneasy. Markus' hand fell onto his shoulder for a moment.
"It's gonna be fine," he promised gently.
Simon shot Markus a look of understanding before shifting around, leaning back in the chair, presenting his damaged ear to you.
"Can you open your panel?" you requested softly.
Simon nodded, a little more fiercely than was necessary, likely to show you that he heard your request. The panel around his ear unhinged, allowing you to prop it open. You poked the edge with one of your tools to carefully push it aside, exposing the component underneath.
It was cracked right down the center.
"I'm gonna remove the broken one now," you explained, leaning in with a tool in either hand. Simon was still as you worked, his eyes focused on Markus, who was watching you. He didn't look untrusting or uneasy, and that gave you some relief.
"This new one will need a firmware update," you said gently as you slotted the replacement in and lined up the connectors. Simon flinched a little at the sensation. You folded the artificial tissue back over and leaned back, giving the android space to sit up.
He was quiet for a moment, LED flickering yellow as he downloaded the firmware update. Luckily, someone had taken ownership of Cyberlife's firmware servers in order to keep them running.
Simon sat up when it was complete, turning his head to look at you. "Diagnostics are reading normal," he stated.
"Is the audio input working normally?" you asked. Simon made a thoughtful expression. "Can you hear me alright?" you added on, mainly to help him judge the input feedback.
"Yes," the android replied softly. "Thank you," he added on, looking at you with a smile.
He looked so sincere, as if he hadn't expected such kindness. It melted you.
"Simon, actually, I can do the shell tonight, if you don't mind?" you offered.
"I've already kept you," Simon blurted.
"No, I can't let you leave like that," you explained. "Please?"
"I-" Simon stammered. "I should be saying 'please'."
"You..." you began, trailing off as you wondered if the words that threatened to leave your lips were inappropriate. "You got hurt at one of the protests, didn't you?" you asked gently.
Simon looked uneasy. Markus, however, was fierce. "Yes," he replied for the PL600.
You nodded in understanding. "I want to help," you whispered.
It was the first thing that came to mind. You wanted to help. You wanted to make it better, in whatever way you could. You could repair androids. You could diagnose their damages. That was all you could do.
"Okay," Simon suddenly said, sounding much more comfortable than he did a few minutes ago.
You smiled and rotated around to the end table nearest you. The tools you needed, extra membranous materials and plastic shell casing molds, were there. You pulled everything out and set them on the table nearby.
"Your model doesn't follow a protocol for the skeleton-base," you explained, information Simon likely already knew about himself. He was an older model, meant to be discontinued. That knowledge only made the situation harder. "So, I'll have to take my time. Ready?"
The android nodded and turned his head to give you room to work. In the corner of your eye, as you leaned over Simon, you could see Markus in the corner of your eye, an expression that looked like 'thank you' on his face.
"May I ask your name?" Simon uttered at some point.
You gave it softly, seeing as you were right next to his ear, poking and prodding at the artificial flesh there.
"Why did you suggest a manual repair and not a full shell replacement?" Markus asked, sounding more curious than judgmental.
"It's really hard to get shells, especially for smaller parts. We're lucky we have any pieces," you explained. "-and I guess I've done this enough that it doesn't bother me..."
'-like some of the other nurses' you almost said. You decided to hold your tongue.
"You've been doing this for a while?" Markus asked, almost hesitant.
"I suppose so," you answered quietly. You had gone to school for biomechanical engineering fresh out of high school and went straight to work repairing damages androids. It was potentially the most depressing time of your life; but, you had a childhood that conquered that.
The androids were quiet after that, letting you work in silence, if not for the overhead fan making annoying buzzing sounds.
"There we go," you groaned, sitting up and briefly stretching your bag. You set your tools down and fetched a hand mirror, offering it to Simon.
Markus walked around to take a look.
"I feel silly," Simon chuckled, looking at his reflection. You joined in his laughter, recognizing he meant the mirror and the vanity it was implying.
"Looks good as new," Markus commented with a smile.
Simon offered the mirror back to you. "I don't know if 'thank you' is good enough," he uttered, looking bashful. He didn't seem like the same man that walked in those doors an hour ago.
"It is, Simon," you offered with a smile. "I choose to do this."
Markus' multi-colored eyes landed on you. "There are many damaged androids afraid to come here. If I can get them to put their faith in you, would you be willing to go to them?"
You gawked up at Markus, who looked down at you with confidence.
"I don't know if I could get approval for that - the parts, I mean. I would try, if you believe they would want it? -from a human, anyway..."
Markus' head tilted slightly and his eyes darkened with concern. "I want us to work together with humans - I want them to see that it's possible - that there can be peace."
You smiled at Markus; but, the first android that came to mind was Connor. You felt your cheeks warm at the thought of what you had almost said to him earlier.
"You recognize me, don't you?" Markus asked suddenly, catching you off guard.
"I do, Markus," you replied carefully.
"-you still offered to help?" Simon uttered. Your eyes shifted to him for a moment. He seemed uneasy, likely expecting more hostility towards the leader of the deviants, regardless of your profession.
"I don't-" you began, breaking off when you realized you didn't know where you were going with that thought.
"I've seen androids torn to pieces," you started, looking back to Markus. "I've had them delivered to me crying that they don't want to die... I came back here because of this - because of the revolution. I wanted to do something I could be proud of for a change..."
It felt strange-
-admitting this to Markus.
He had a way with people, making them want to open up to him.
"I understand the risk you're taking," Markus stated. "I won't ask you to come if I don't feel it's safe... I hope I'll see you again."
You nodded and watched the boys leave, hoping that Markus would return.
...
...
...
When you finally staggered into Connor's apartment that night, the android was seated at the island, folders, papers, photographs and documents, scattered along the surface in front of him.
He turned his head a little to acknowledge you when you walked in before immediately craning his neck back down, eyes falling back to the document in front of him.
"Hey," you hummed, walking over to him. You leaned over his shoulder and pressed a kiss against his LED.
"Hey," he replied back, leaning into the kiss. You couldn't help but laugh at how silly the word sounded coming out of his mouth. It didn't quite the suit the prim and proper detective.
"Thank you for agreeing to stay here," Connor said, sincere.
"Why would I say no to an opportunity to spend more time with you?" you huffed. "Besides, your place is nicer than mine and closer to work."
"I'm glad to know you're benefiting."
You hummed, a little irritated by his response. "You think I'm inconvenienced?"
"In a way, yes," he replied, in a tone that seemed distant.
"I'm not inconvenienced - geez, what's gotten into you?" you snapped a little.
Connor looked up at you, discomfort dashing behind his eyes. "I-..." he trailed off, looking back down at his papers.  He dragged a hand through his hair. His fingers lingered briefly at the back of his neck before lowering back down to the counter.
"I'm sorry. I'm not handling this as well as I thought."
"The protests?" you offered softly.
The android didn't nod, nor answer. His eyes shifted away uneasily for a moment before moving back to you. It wasn't exactly a yes, but that seemed to be part of his trouble, at least.
"They're challenging your livelihood," you proclaimed. "You have every right to be upset."
"I made a choice against my creators; but..." Connor trailed off, his confidence waning for a moment. "This time, I have to be on both sides."
Connor felt as torn as he did back then. He wanted freedom for himself, for his people. He was fortunate to have a place to call his home, a job where he could find purpose. He wanted his people to have those things, too.
But, he feared the consequences of an uprising, of the human lives that would be lost. He still cared about humans. Maybe that was because of Hank - because of you. Maybe some part of his programming never quite left him.
You didn't know what to do - what to say. You wanted to embrace him and pull him away from that mess, just for a little bit; however, Connor turned away from you and buried his nose back into the pile of paperwork.
He wanted to confide in you; but, at the same time, he didn't. You had your own challenges, your own problems. He didn't want to add to that list. He didn't want to be one of the things that brought stress into your life.
"I'll-... be back in a second," you quietly, feeling small as you stepped away.
Connor's bedroom was as welcoming as you remembered and impeccably clean. You set your bags against the wall next to the archway that led into his bathroom. You brushed your teeth and changed into some comfy clothes, brushed your hair back, washed your face.
You returned to the kitchen and approached Connor. He looked up at you, hearing the quiet tapping of your bare feet on the floor. When his eyes lands landed on you, he looked conflicted.
"You know I believe in you... right?" you whispered, leaning against the counter nearest him.
He rotated around so that his lap was no longer tucked beneath the island's overlap. You decided to take that as an invitation and approached, standing a little closer, right in front of his knees.
"I like to imagine that. But, it feels better hearing you say it," he said quietly, like he was confessing to something outlandish.
"We'll get through this," you added on.
He looked away suddenly, lips tightening. You reached for him and cupped his cheek, pinkie and ring finger over the edge of his sharp jawline. Connor's eyes, warm, brown, shining in the bright kitchen lights, flickered back up to your face.
"I want to do this with you, Connor," you proclaimed proudly. "They're wrong about androids. Their views may never change, but that doesn't mean we can't strive for the future."
"This... isn't your fight," he said quietly, doubt flickering in his gaze. His brow lowered slightly. Your hand slid off his cheek and you frowned.
"It's my fight if I want it to be... and I do," you replied firmly, voice rising slightly.
"I don't want-" Connor stammered, frustration mingled with fear in his eyes.
"It's not just about you," you interrupted him sharply. "I care about androids - I did before I met you. I want to help. I-..." You trailed off, realizing you were mad at him for being worried about your safety. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, but-"
"No, you're right," he said hoarsely. "I shouldn't try to control you."
"That's not what this is!" you almost shouted, arms trembling at your sides. "I worry about you, too... -about what could happen. You're on the frontlines for fucks sake. But, you're a fighter and I don't want to change that. I love that about you..."
Connor was afraid that if his hands touched you, he wouldn't be able to let go. So, he kept them to himself, and soaked in your expression. He knew you cared about androids. He had witnessed it on more than one occasion. He didn't want to make light of your sacrifice.
But, still...
He felt so-
-selfish.
"You... amazed me, when I saw you risk your safety for androids - for people you didn't know, people who aren't... human," he confessed quietly. "You put yourself in danger," he said lowly, breaking off to roughly drag a hand across his face, pulling at his skin gently in frustration.
"-drives me crazy..."
He said it low, quiet, as if he wasn't sure he wanted you to hear it. He sounded both enamored and annoyed at the same time.
"You drive me crazy," you retorted softly with a smile.
You wanted him to reach out to you, to give you a kiss goodnight, or at least take your hand for a second. But, Connor didn't look like he wanted to be touched.
"I'm... gonna let you get back to work... Goodnight, Connor."
Connor nodded, uttering, "goodnight," and watched you leave. He returned to his case files and tried really hard to focus on the task at hand. His hand fumbled on the surface of the counter, fingers flexing, tightening, flexing again. He chewed his bottom lip for a second. Maybe asking you to stay here was a bad idea, if it meant he couldn't think straight.
He looked through the photos of suspects believed to be involved in the protest this morning, the one that resulted in some assaults on androids. He wanted to analyze their faces so he could remember them when searching security footage.
It wasn't easy for an android to forget a face.
It shouldn't have been easy for an android to get distracted; however, he was really struggling in that moment.
"...damn it," he growled at himself, tearing away from the counter and rising to his feet. He walked into the bedroom, trying to make careful footsteps while simultaneously not giving a fuck. He walked over to the side of the bed that you had taken a liking to.
He knew you weren't asleep. Your breathing pattern was too rough. But, he didn't care. Connor leaned over and pressed a kiss against your forehead and pretended he didn't notice the way your lips twitched against the pillow.
Just like that, he felt better, and returned to his mountain of paperwork with ease.
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marlborodean · 4 years ago
Text
spn quotes: season one
i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!
w/ncest shippers get lost
season two.
1. PILOT
Dean—
[Sam: So we kill everything we can find.] Save a lot of people doing it, too. (08:51)
I can’t do this alone. [Sam: Yes, you can.] Yeah. Well, I don’t want to. (09:30)
[Officer: So. Fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?] My boobs. (28:50)
Sam—
When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45. [Dean: What was he supposed to do?] I was 9 years old. He was supposed to say, “Don’t be afraid of the dark.” (08:30)
You think Mom would’ve wanted this for us? (08:58)
We were raised like warriors. (09:06)
[Dean: Are you just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?] No, not normal. Safe. [And that’s why you ran away.] I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. (09:09)
[Dean: You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?] Maybe. Why not? [Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you’ve done?] No, and she’s not ever going to know. [Well, that’s healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you’re gonna have to face up to who you really are.] And who is that? [One of us.] No. I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life. (22:45)
If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what Mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom’s gone, and she isn’t coming back. (23:17)
2. W*ND*G* ( x )
Dean—
Her brother’s missing, Sam. She’s not just gonna sit this out. (14:55)
[Hailey: And you’re hiking out in biker boots and jeans?] Well, sweetheart, I don’t do shorts. (15:54)
I’m supposed to be the belligerent one, remember? (25:13)
The way I see it, Dad’s given us a job to do, and I intend to do it. (26:31)
All that anger, you can’t keep it burning over the long haul. It’s gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. [Sam: How do you do it? How does Dad do it?] Well, for one, them. I mean, I figure our family’s so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. It makes things a little bit more bearable. And I’ll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can. (27:05)
Sam—
[Dean: No, you’re not fine. You’re like a powder keg, man. It’s not like you.] (25:06)
3. DEAD IN THE WATER
Dean—
You don’t think I want to find Dad as much as you do? [Sam: Yeah, I know you do, it’s just—] I’m the one that’s been with him every single day for the past two years while you’ve been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we’re gonna kill everything bad between here and there, okay? (04:09)
Well, maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you, or... or believe you. I want you to know that I will. (11:58)
You’re scared. It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that everyday. And I do my best to be brave. (20:14)
What if we missed something? What if more people get hurt? [Sam: But why would you think that?] Because Lucas was really scared. [That’s what this is about?] I just don’t want to leave town until I know the kid’s okay. (29:48)
Sam—
People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them. (03:51)
4. PHANTOM TRAVELER
Dean—
It’s your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp. (05:18)
Sam—
[Dean: It’s your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.] (05:18)
[Jerry: Well, he was real proud of you, I could tell. You know, he talked about you all the time.] He did? (07:09)
Hey, hey, it’s just a little turbulence. [Sam, this place is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I’m friggin’ 4.] You need to calm down. [Well, I’m sorry, I can’t!] Yes, you can. [Dude. Stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap. It’s not helping.] Listen, if you’re panicked, you’re wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down right now. (30:26)
5. BLOODY MARY
Dean—
Do I look like Paris Hilton? (18:08)
Her boyfriend killing himself, that’s not really Charlie’s fault. (29:54)
Now listen to me. It wasn’t your fault. It you want to blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or, hell, why don’t you take a swing at me? I’m the one that dragged you away from her. [Sam: I don’t blame you.] Well, you shouldn’t blame yourself, because there’s nothing you could’ve done. (31:24)
Sam—
[Dean: Hell, why don’t you take a swing at me? I’m the one that dragged you away from her.] I don’t blame you. (31:37)
Charlie. Your boyfriend’s death, you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn’t have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen. (40:37)
6. SKIN
Dean—
He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home with Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends, you could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. [Sam: What are you talking about?] You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. (24:21)
Sam—
[Rebecca: It must be lonely.] Oh, no. No, it’s not so bad. Anyway, what can I do? It’s my family. (39:02)
Misc—
Shifter: Evolution is about mutation, right? So maybe this thing was born human, but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (27:14)
7. HOOK MAN
Dean—
I told you, you don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius. (14:59)
[Sam: Hey, be quiet.] Me be quiet? You be quiet! (19:48)
Sam—
[Dean: You’ve been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!] This wasn’t really my experience. [Let me guess—library, studying, straight A’s. What a geek.] (21:30)
8. BUGS
Dean—
Growing up in a place like this would freak me out. [Sam: Why?] The manicured lawns, how-was-your-day-honey? I’d blow my brains out. [There’s nothing wrong with normal.] I’d take our family over normal any day. (08:21)
[Sam: You’ll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad.] What kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family. (20:26)
Hey, so with that kid back there, how could you tell him to just ditch his family like that? [Sam: Just, uh, I know what the kid’s going through.] How about telling him to respect his old man? How’s that for advice? (23:20)
Matt, under no circumstances are you to tell the truth. He’ll just think you’re nuts. Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side and you gotta go to the hospital, okay? [Matt: Yeah, okay.] Make him listen? What are you thinking? (32:44)
Sam—
Remind you of somebody? Dad? [Dean: Dad never treated us like that.] Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. ...You don’t remember. [Dean: Well, maybe he had to raise his voice but sometimes you were out of line.] Right. Right, like when I said I’d rather play soccer than learn bowhunting. (11:46)
[Matt: Larry doesn’t listen to me.] Why not? [Mostly? He’s too disappointed in his freak son.] I hear ya. [Dean: You do?] Matt, how old are you? [Matt: Sixteen.] Well, don’t sweat it, ‘cause in two years something great’s gonna happen. [What?] College. You’ll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad. (20:04)
[Dean: Hey, so with that kid back there, how could you tell him to just ditch his family like that?] Just, uh, I know what the kid’s going through. [How about telling him to respect his old man? How’s that for advice?] Dean, come on. This isn’t about his old man. You think I didn’t respect Dad, that’s what this is about. [Just forget it, alright? Sorry I brought it up.] I respected him. But no matter what I did, it was never good enough. [So what are you saying, that Dad was disappointed in you?] Was? Is! Always has been. [Why would you think that?] Because I didn’t wanna bowhunt or hustle pool, because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which to our whacked-out family, made me the freak. (23:20)
Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full-ride? Proud. Most dads don’t toss their kids out of the house. [Dean: I remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth.] You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad, I don’t know if he’s even gonna wanna see me. (24:05)
9. HOME
Dean—
And then you tell me that I’ve got to go back home, especially when... [Sam: When what?] When I swore to myself that I would never go back there. (07:56)
I remember the fire, the heat. Then I carried you out the front door. [Sam: You did?] Yeah, well, you never knew that? [No.] (12:38)
I don’t know what to do. So, whatever you’re doing. if you could get here... please. I need your help, Dad. (14:45)
Sam—
[Dean: I remember the fire, the heat. Then I carried you out the front door.] You did? [Yeah, well, you never knew that?] No. (12:38)
Misc—
Missouri: All those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds, and sometimes wounds get infected. (27:15)
10. ASYLUM
Dean—
[Sam: This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job.] Yeah, well, maybe we’ll meet up with him. Maybe he’s there. [Maybe he’s not. I mean, he could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing.] Who cares? If he wants us there, it’s good enough for me. [This doesn’t strike you as weird? The texting, the coordinates?] Sam. Dad’s telling us to go somewhere. We’re going. (07:05)
[Sam: We deserve some answers. I mean, this is our family we’re talking about.] I understand that, Sam, but he’s given us an order. [So what, we gotta always follow Dad’s order?] Of course we do. (12:17)
[Sam: I mean, why are we even here? ‘Cause you’re following Dad’s orders like a good little soldier? ‘Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?] (36:52)
Sam—
[Dean: We’ve got to burn Ellicott’s bones, and all this will be over, and you’ll be back to normal.] I am normal. I’m just telling you the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? ‘Cause you’re following Dad’s orders like a good little soldier? ‘Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval? [This isn’t you talking.] That’s the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I’m not pathetic like you. [So what are you gonna do? You gonna kill me?] You know, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. (36:43)
11. SCARECROW
Dean— 
[Sam: I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.] Yeah, it’s called being a good son. You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. You don’t care what anyone thinks. (08:08)
[Sam: You know, if you’re hinting you need my help, just ask.] I’m not hinting anything. Actually, uh... I want you to know... I mean, don’t think... [Yeah. I’m sorry, too.] Sam.... You were right. You got to do your own thing. You got to live your own life. [You serious?] You’ve always known what you want, and you go after it. You stand up to Dad. I mean, you always have. Hell, I wish I.... Anyway. I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy. [I don’t even know what to say.] Say you’ll take care of yourself. (25:04)
Sam—
[Dean: Dad doesn’t want our help.] I don’t care. [He’s given us an order.] I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says. [Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives. It’s important.] Alright, I understand. Believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge. [Alright, look, I know how you feel.] Do you? How old were you when Mom died, 4? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel? (07:25)
[Meg: I had to get away from my family.] Why? [I love my parents. And they wanted what’s best for me. They just didn’t care if I wanted it. I was supposed to be smart, but not smart enough to scare away a husband. Well, it’s just.... Because my family said so, I’m supposed to sit there and do what I was told. So I just went on my own way instead. ...I’m sorry. The things you say to people you hardly know.] No, no, it’s okay. I know how you feel. Remember that brother I mentioned before that I was road-tripping with? It’s kind of the same deal. [And that’s why you’re not riding with him anymore? ...Here’s to us. The food might be bad, and the beds might be hard, but at least we’re living our own lives and nobody else’s.] (21:11)
[Med: You’re running back to your brother? The guy you ran away from? Why, because he won’t pick up his phone? Sam, come with me to California.] I can’t. I’m sorry. [Why not?] He’s my family. (31:13)
12. FAITH
Dean—
Looks like you’re gonna leave town without me. [Sam: What are you talking about? I’m not gonna leave you here.] You better take care of that car. I swear I’ll haunt your ass. [I don’t think that’s funny.] Oh, come on, it’s a little funny. (04:44)
[Sam: Maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean.] You know what I got faith in? Reality—knowing what’s really going on. [How can you be a skeptic, with the things we see every day?] Exactly, we see them. We know they’re real. [But if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there too?] ‘Cause I’ve seen what evil does to good people. (08:10)
[Roy: I looked into your heart and you just...stood out from all the rest.] What did you see in my heart? [A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn’t finished.] (15:27)
You never should’ve brought me here. [Sam: Dean, I was just trying to save your life.] Sam, some guy is dead now because of me. (19:30)
The guy is playing God, deciding who lives and dies. That’s a monster in my book. (22:42)
[Layla: I wish you luck. I really do.] Same to you. You deserve it a lot more than me. (30:38)
[Sam: To cross a line like that, that preacher’s wife—black magic, murder. Evil.] Desperate. Her husband was dying. She would’ve done anything to save him. (31:35)
God save us from half the people who think they’re doing God’s work. (32:04)
[Sam: What’s happening to her is horrible. But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself, Dean—you can’t play God.] (32:58)
Must be rough, to believe in something so much and have it disappoint you like that. (40:57)
You know, I’m not much of the praying type, but I’m gonna pray for you. [Layla: Well. There’s a miracle right there.] (42:00)
Sam—
[Dean: I’m gonna die. And you can’t stop it.] Watch me. (05:23)
[Dean: You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?] I’m not gonna let you die, period. (07:04)
How can you be a skeptic, with the things we see everyday? [Dean: Exactly, we see them. We know they’re real.] If you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there too? (08:18)
[The guy is playing God, deciding who lives and dies. That’s a monster in my book.] No, we’re not gonna kill a human being, Dean. We do that, we’re no better than he is. (22:42)
Misc—
Layla: I guess if you’re gonna have faith, you can’t just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it when they don’t. (41:19)
13. ROUTE 666
Dean—
[Sam: Look man, everybody’s got to open up to someone sometime.] Yeah, I don’t. It was stupid to get that close. (13:06)
[Cassie: Whenever we get—what’s the word?—close? Anywhere in the neighborhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off or make some joke or find any way to shut the door on me.] (15:19)
Sam—
You told her. You told her the secret. Our big family rule number one—we do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times, and you tell her everything? (04:18)
Oh, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms. [Dean: So I guess I saved you from a boring existence.] Occasionally I miss boring. [So, this killer truck—] I miss conversations that didn’t start with “this killer truck.” (29:31)
Ever make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything on hold, doing what we do? (39:10)
14. NIGHTMARE
Dean—
[Sam: Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people—I’m sorry, man. I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane.] Yeah, but it doesn’t justify murdering your entire family. [Dean—] He’s no different than anything else we’ve hunted. Alright? We gotta end him. [We’re not gonna kill Max.] Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say, “Lock him up, officer. He kills people with the power of his mind.” [Forget it. No way, man.] Sam— [Dean, he’s a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you’ll follow my lead on this one.] Alright, fine. But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else. (25:01)
[Sam: We’re lucky we had Dad.] I never thought I’d hear you say that. [Well, it could have gone a whole ‘nother way after Mom. A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting, then we would have had Max’s childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him.] All things considered. (38:27)
As long as I’m around, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you. (41:27)
Sam—
Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people. [Dean: What’s that?] Both our families are cursed. [Our family’s not cursed. We’ve just... had our dark spots.] Our dark spots are pretty dark. (19:13)
I was connecting to Max. The thing I don’t get it why, man. I guess because we’re so alike? [Dean: What are you talking about? Dude’s nothing like you.] Well, we both have psychic abilities. We’re both— [Both what? Sam, Max is a monster. He’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third.] Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people—I’m sorry, man. I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane. (24:43)
If I just said something else, gotten through to him somehow. [Dean: Don’t do that.] Do what? [Torture yourself. It wouldn’t have mattered what you said. Max was too far gone.] When I think about how he looked at me, man, right before.... I should have done something. [Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we’d have gotten there 20 years earlier.] Well, I’ll tell you one thing. We’re lucky we had Dad. [I never thought I’d hear you say that.] Well, it could have gone a whole ‘nother way after Mom. A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting, then we would have had Max’s childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him. (38:03)
15. THE BENDERS
Dean—
Look... he’s family. And I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you. [Kathleen: I’m sorry, I can’t do that.] Well, tell me something. Your country has its fair share of missing persons. Any of ‘em come back? Sam’s my responsibility, and he’s coming back. I’m bringing him back. (08:56)
When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, I’ve felt responsible for him. You know, like it’s my job to keep him safe. I’m just afraid if we don’t find him fast.... Please. He’s my family. (15:04)
Demons, I get. People are crazy. (28:08)
If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you, I swear. I’ll kill you all. I will kill you all! (35:54)
16. SHADOW
Dean— 
[Sam: What are you gonna do when it’s all over?] It’s never gonna be over. There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be something to hunt. [But there’s got to be something that you want for yourself.] Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam. [Dude. What’s your problem?] Why do you think I drag you everywhere, huh? Why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place? [’Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom.] Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man. You and me and Dad. I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again. [Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before.] They could be. (24:04)
Sam— 
What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I’d sleep for a month. Go back to school, just be a person again. (23:42)
Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. [Dean: They could be.] I don’t want them to be. I’m not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way. (25:02)
Misc—
[Sam: Go to hell.] Meg: Baby, I’m already there. (30:22)
17. HELL HOUSE
Dean—
People believe in Santa Clause. How come I’m not getting hooked up every Christmas? [Sam: ‘Cause you’re a bad person.] (27:01)
Sam—
Man, we’re not kids anymore, Dean. We’re not gonna start that crap up again. [Dean: Start what up?] That prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates. (04:24)
Kind of makes you wonder—of all the things we hunted, how many existed just ‘cause people believed in them? (37:17)
18. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES
Dean—
[Sam: What makes you so sure?] Well, because I’m the oldest, which means I’m always right. [No it doesn’t.] It totally does. (03:38)
Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault, okay? [Michael: It’s my job to look after him.] (20:53)
I know how you feel, I’m a big brother, too. But you got to go easy on your mom right now, okay? (21:24)
Dad did not send me here to walk away. [Sam: Send you here? He didn’t send you here, he sent us here.] This isn’t about you, Sam, alright? I’m the one that screwed up. It’s my fault. There’s no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me. (25:35)
Dad never spoke about it again. I didn’t ask. But he, uh... he looked at me different, you know, which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn’t listen, and I almost got you killed. [Sam: You were just a kid.] Don’t—don’t. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it. (29:26)
Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to. It’s okay, I won’t be mad. (33:57)
[Sam: Sometimes I wish that...] What? [I wish I could have that kind of innocence.] If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too. (40:05)
Sam—
Dean, I’m sorry. [Dean: For what?] You know. I’ve really given you a lot of crap for always following Dad’s orders, but I know why you do it. (34:39)
Sometimes I wish that... [Dean: What?] I wish I could have that kind of innocence. [If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too.] (40:05)
19. PROVENANCE
Dean— 
I’m sure that this is about Jessica, right? Now, I don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy. God forbid have fun once in a while. (20:47)
Sam—
I had a girlfriend. And she died. And my mom died, too. I don’t know, it’s like... it’s like I’m cursed or something. Like death just follows me around. Look, I’m not scared of much, but if I let myself have feelings for anybody— [Sarah: You’re scared they get hurt, too.] (30:39)
Misc—
Sarah: I know, losing somebody you love—it’s terrible. You shut yourself off. Believe me, I know. But when you shut out pain, you shut out everything else, too. (31:27)
20. DEAD MAN’S BLOOD
Dean—
He does what he does for a reason. [Sam: What reason?] Our job. There’s no time to argue. There’s no margin for error, alright? It’s just the way the old man runs things. [Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, alright? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you’re cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?] If that’s what it takes. (14:51)
Sam—
I’m happy he’s okay, alright? I’m happy that we’re all working together. [Dean: Good.] It’s just the way he treats us like children. [Oh, God.] He barks orders at us, Dean. He expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal. [He does what he does for a reason.] What reason? [Our job. There’s no time to argue. There’s no margin for error, alright? It’s just the way the old man runs things.] Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, alright? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you’re cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show? (14:51)
[John: You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam. You walked away!] You’re the one who said “Don’t come back,” Dad. You’re the one who closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off that you couldn’t control me anymore! (19:27)
[John: Sammy, it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn’t accept the fact that you and me, we’re just different.] We’re not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess, we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone. (29:20)
Misc—
John: This is never the life that I wanted for you. [Sam: Then why’d you get so mad when I left?] You got to understand something. After your mother passed, all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you prepared, ready. So somewhere along the line, I stopped being your father. I became your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was that you were gonna be alone, vulnerable. (28:21)
21. SALVATION
Dean—
For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault. [Sam: Yeah, you’re right, it’s not my fault, but it’s my problem!] No, it’s not your problem, it’s our problem! (05:42)
You’re just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it? [Sam: Yeah. Yeah, you’re damn right I am.] Yeah, well, that’s not gonna happen—not as long as I’m around. [What the hell are you talking about, Dean? We’ve been searching for this demon our whole lives. It’s the only thing we’ve ever cared abut.] Sam, I want to waste it, I do, okay? But it’s not worth dying over. [What?] I mean it. If hunting this demon means you getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing. [That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom,] You said yourself once that no matter what we do, they’re gone. And they’re never coming back. [Don’t you say that! Don’t you—not after all this, don’t you say that.] Sam, look. The three of us, that’s all we have. And it’s all I have. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together, man. Without you or Dad.... (37:51)
Sam—
So Mom’s death, Jessica—it’s all because of me? [Dean: We don’t know that, Sam.] Oh really? ‘Cause I’d say we’re pretty damn sure, Dean! [For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault.] Yeah, you’re right, it’s not my fault, but it’s my problem! (05:34)
Misc—
John: I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want Mary alive. I just want this to be over. (21:10)
22. DEVIL’S TRAP
Dean—
You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there. [Sam: You didn’t have a choice, Dean.] I know. That’s not what bothers me. [Then what does?] Killing that guy, killing Meg... I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just... it scares me sometimes. [Azazel!John: It shouldn’t. You did good.] You’re not mad? [For what?] Using a bullet. [Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you, you watch out for this family. You always have.] (29:41)
Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? ‘Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing. [Azazel: Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth.] Oh yeah? What’s that? [You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is, they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam—he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.] (36:52)
Sam—
[Dean: Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.] (19:24)
Misc—
Azazel: He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood. [Dean: Let him go, or I swear to God—] What? What are you and God gonna do? (35:09)
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jatp-thoughts · 4 years ago
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Bobby/ Trevor Wilson Analysis
tldr; Bobby/Trevor from Sunset Curve experienced the trauma of all of his friends dying at 17, when they were hours away from their biggest gig yet. He did his best to still achieve that dream, which he had already lost once before, while also avoiding being constantly asked about his best friends dying and reliving that trauma. He probably had his justifications of why he stole Sunset Curve’s/ Luke’s songs. He’s not a bad guy. Please stop saying he played a role in the boys’ death so he could steal the spotlight, and just imagine what he went through. Thank you. :) 
_____________________________________________________________
Bobby/ Trevor is a good person, and yeah he made a mistake and hurt Alex, Luke, and Reggie, but that doesn’t make him the villain of the show. In this essay I will- 
Let’s start at the end of Episode 7, when Luke, Alex, and Reggie are talking about their original Orpheum show, and how long it took them to book that show. Alex says “It took us years”, so obviously the band had to be together for years. Therefore the Sunset Curve boys were best friends for years, and with the amount of time they had to spend together to be as good as they were, the boys became each other’s second family. All four of them shared a common dream: to be famous musicians. To be as good as they were, and for them to be playing together for as long as they did, famous musicians is probably the only career path these boys saw themselves doing. For example, Luke gave up EVERYTHING in order to pursue that dream; see Unsaid Emily. 
In Sunset Curve, I’m assuming all of the boys helped during the song writing process, but Luke liked to have control over the process (in ep. 7 Luke says “I know I’m not the easiest person to work with” to Julie). I’m sure that all the boys pitched in while Luke was writing songs, as Alex was slightly upset/hurt that Luke and Reggie wrote music without him. (in ep. 3 “Luke and I wrote a killer melody to one of her lyrics” “Without your drummer. Cool.” - Reggie/Alex). And Reggie obviously wrote Home Is Where My Horse Is. I’m sure Bobby made some suggestions and tried writing music, and Luke either vetoed the song or helped him with it. So the point is that the Sunset Curve boys wrote music together, but Luke was the most experienced and liked to control the process. 
Anyway, after years of playing and writing together, the Sunset Curve boys finally got to record a demo AND make merch. Then, they booked their biggest gig yet, their Orpheum Showcase. This was the moment they worked so hard for. Their dreams were so close. They played “the tightest they’ve ever played” during the soundcheck. Then bobby, being a normal 17 year old, goes to flirt with the pretty girl, Rose, and tries to impress her. So he passes on getting food with the boys, especially because he’ll have PLENTY of opportunities to get food with them. 
Then, shortly after the sound check and only TWO hours before their biggest show yet, Bobby finds out that, not just one, but ALL THREE of his BANDMATES DIED!!!! Just think of how ABSOLUTELY TRAUMATIC that had to be for Bobby! He was just playing with them and talking to them maybe what, an hour or two prior? and now they’re dead? Bobby’s BEST FRIENDS, his SECOND FAMILY, is just Suddenly DEAD?! Can you imagine losing ALL of your friends at ONCE? Can you imagine losing all of your friends at once when you’re only 17 years old? You don’t expect any of your friends to die at 17, and bobby lost three friends at 17 at the same time. 
Moving on to Bobby’s Trauma. Losing all of his friends at once is a traumatic experience in itself. Now let’s add in a dash of survivor’s guilt, as he chose to flirt with Rose rather than going with the boys (in ep. 1 “Bobby where you goin’ - Luke *Bobby waves hime away while walking over to Rose*... and Bobby says “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs” when trying to get the to leave him alone with Rose). We’ll also add a dash of having to relive that trauma a lot. in episode 1, the Sunset Curve article that Julie pulls up says “There was a surviving member, Bobby, but no one has been able to track him down to talk to him about his friends dying that fateful night.” Imagine losing all of your friends dying at THE SAME TIME, and then interviewers trying to track you down to talk to you about it. Bobby obviously did not want to talk about that night, at all. And finally, let’s add the trauma of having his lifelong dream of being a famous musician WITH his best friends being snatched away from him when it was within reach. 
After the boys death, Bobby obviously struggled with it. He had to have started going to therapy. Not to mention, therapy was still taboo in the 90s, and had a negative stigma associated with it but that’s beside the point. So to avoid being asked about that name, Bobby changed his identity. If no one knew he was Bobby from Sunset Curve, then no one would ask or bring up Luke, Alex, and Reggie. I mean, his BEST FRIENDS DIED. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He also probably struggled getting back into music after they died, because it was a painful memory; similar to Julie’s experience. 
But what was Bobby/Trevor going to do with the rest of his life?? He’s got his whole life in front of him, and the only thing that he identified himself as was a musician. It was his dream, and it still is. Bobby didn’t have any other interests. All he knew was music. He knew how to play his guitar, had some experience writing music, but wasn’t that great. But he also still had the unrecorded Sunset Curve songs that he knew would make him famous, as they were going to make Sunset Curve famous. So he released Sunset Curve’s/Luke’s songs as his own. 
Obviously, this was wrong, but let’s put ourselves in Bobby’s/Trevor’s shoes for a minute. He still wanted to be a famous musician, as that was a big part of his identity; his sense of self was rooted in being a famous musician. With Luke’s/Sunset Curve’s songs, Bobby/Trevor had the means to do it. 1.) Bobby/Trevor could’ve kept the songs for himself, but he wasn’t as good at writing songs as Luke was, so he wouldn’t have gotten noticed or far as a musician. 2.) Bobby/Trevor could’ve released the songs and given Luke, Reggie, and Alex writing credits, but then people would put 2 and 2 together and figure out that Trevor Wilson = Bobby from Sunset Curve, and then interviews would solely consist of him being asked about the boys, if he missed them, why he changed his name, if he felt bad or guilty becoming a famous musician without them, etc. and then cue him having to relive that trauma. 3.) Bobby/Trevor could’ve mentioned “3 special friends” similar to what Julie did during Stand Tall, but once again, people could look into his age and where he’s from and put 2 and 2 together and then Sunset Curve and the boys would be brought up. 4.) So Bobby/Trevor probably thought that he could just release them on his own and justified it by  A. there wouldn’t be any direct repercussions since his friends were dead and it’s not like they were coming back B. He would be honoring them in a way by releasing their songs; Luke’s music would still be famous and C. He would still be able to protect himself from people bringing up that trauma. So he released Sunset Curve’s/Luke’s songs, and achieved his dream, and in a way Sunset Curve’s dream. 
25 years later, Trevor is obviously still in therapy, and goes enough to the point where his therapist is on retainer. (In ep. 4 after the boys haunt him and write “hello bobby” in the steamed mirror, he runs out and says “no no no Trevor, nothing that Dr. Crystal can’t handle.” and then tells Carrie “ I’m gonna see my therapist, okay? Okay.”) Like, no appointment. He was just going to go see his therapist. And seeing his old name that he probably hasn’t been called in 25 years shook him to the core. The only people in his life now that knew his old name were his parents, Rose, Dr. Crystal, and any siblings he might have had. So seeing his old name being written on a steamed mirror when no one else was in the bathroom freaked him out because the only people who knew that was his name were his parents/siblings, his therapist, or DEAD. 
So, in summary, Bobby/Trevor did not poison the street dogs, or have any role in their death. He was a 17 year old boy about to achieve his dreams with his best Friends and wanted to flirt with the pretty girl when ALL of his friends died. He didn’t know what else to do with his life than be a musician so he released Luke’s songs, but didn’t credit them as he didn’t want anyone to know that he was Bobby from Sunset Curve to avoid reliving that trauma because people and interviewers would ask bobby/Trevor about them constantly. Bobby/ Trevor experienced a trauma, probably justified his releasing the Sunset Curve songs without mentioning them, and is still going to therapy 25 years later. 
Also, this is a side note, but I think Rose and Bobby became close friends, and Rose helped Bobby get back into music after the boys died, just like the boys helped Julie get back into music when Rose died. 
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ryttu3k · 4 years ago
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Doing those ship meme questions only it's the new OT3 (Beckett/Sascha/Ilias) because they're my main source of serotonin these days. Occasional appearances from Anatole and Lucita, too.
Not doing all, but there are A Lot.
1. Who's the one who's reckless and always getting into trouble while the other gotta pull em out
Beckett and Sascha actually do have a lot of braincells between them but none of them are in use for 'can sense danger'. Ilias has gained some minor common sense since his 'hey, I'm going to ask our Antediluvian for power to help face its favourite childe oh whoops I am possessed' thing and is usually the one sighing fondly and saving their asses.
2. Who's the one to send the other "I love my gf/bf" memes
Ilias. 100% Ilias. He would go out in public in a shirt saying 'I <3 Sascha' and calling them ‘my flower’ while Sascha is just pleased they can't blush any more.
3. Who's the one who listens to a music genre the other doesn't like and how does the other react
God their music tastes are all over the place. Sascha is over a thousand years old and has seen and heard A Lot. They consider the Romantic period 'modern music'. Beckett is similar albeit with about 350 years of it. Ilias got hurled from 1233 to 2004 and after a period of ??? went, "Oh, Romanian music!" and it was. Dragostea Din Tei. Like can you imagine one moment it’s 1233 and the next moment you are listening to Dragostea Din Tei. Also thanks to the language drift they only caught about a quarter of the words so it was this whole thing where he almost, almost was understanding it but the rest was just, “...what.” And that’s how Ilias discovered modern music.
Anyway yeah they’ve pretty much decided that their collective music tastes are so disparate no one is allowed to comment on them.
4. Which one spoils the other more and do they ever get competitive to show the other more love
Honestly, they all kind of spoil each other, albeit in different ways. Like Ilias will just randomly pop a handmade flower crown on Sascha’s head. Beckett will occasionally find an extremely rare book on his desk and know Sascha found it for him. Beckett always tells Sascha first when he’s found something cool so they can be the first to investigate it. And they absolutely get competitive, yeah.
5. How many years did it take to get married or was it just not for them
Sascha and Ilias have a mutual blood bond, which is more or less the equivalent of thus. Beckett has a mutual bond with Anatole, but he and Sascha have a level-2 bond.
7. Are their friends/family supportive
 Honestly, uh, Sascha and Ilias don’t really have anyone else. Beckett’s companions tend to range from, “They’re terrifying but I trust your judgment :D” (Anatole) to “hahahahahaha if Vykos harms one hair on Beckett’s head I’ll end them” (Lucita) to “WHY” (Aristotle, Okulos, most others tbh).
8. How does one comfort the other when the other is in distress/having a panic attack/crying
Sascha is the one most prone to panic attacks because trauma is a bitch and basically just... Beckett and Ilias both respond by with hugging/gentle restraint (if they’re okay with touch) or by giving them space and doing things like running a hot bath when they’re touch-averse.
9. Which one dissociates
Honestly Sascha spent most of 1234 to 2006 lowkey dissociating, which is fair when there’s literally another essence fused to yours. Post-Dracon, they still get the occasional dissociative episode, but it’s much easier to bring them back to themself.
10. Which one stares at the other's booty like “damn” and how does the other react when catching them
All three tbh. Beckett stares at Sascha, Sascha either gets a bit self-conscious or a bit ;) , depending on mood. Sascha stares at both Beckett and Ilias and gets a bit embarrassed when caught (Beckett will laugh it off, Ilias will basically be ;D). Ilias stares at both and is completely shameless about it because he may no longer be on the Path of Pleasure but he’s absolutely not going to feel ashamed for admiring his gorgeous lovers.
11. When they live together what kinda place do they live in? What does their home look like?
Beckett and Sascha travel too much for one place, honestly, and Ilias accompanies them a lot. They do have a few houses scattered throughout the world, though, including one in the Carpathians (nowhere near Brasov, tyvm). Not really as big as the monastery, it’s mostly like... big library, a few comfortable places to sleep or rest, Ilias likes having a garden these days and grows a lot of flowers.
12. What do their dates look like
Museum heists.
13. How does each act when getting drunk
Ilias gets even more handsy. Actually he can get to be a bit of a pain, but he does listen immediately if one of them tells him to tone it down. Beckett gets very enthusiastic and fired-up and a bit more feral and he’s gonna go find Enoch right now and prove Caine wasn’t real once and for all. Sascha, uh, tends to get a bit emotional and also very talkative, but can literally like. Talk their way into minor breakdowns. Basically less barriers.
14. Which one rolls over in the morning evening to wake up the other one just to kiss them
All three :3
15. Have they saved each other's lives before
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Yup!
Ficverse-wise, Sascha did also save Ilias from becoming a bogatyr to the Eldest, although that was also Sascha and Beckett both saving themselves by being emotionally honest. Yeah XD
16. Does one have an interest the other think is weird but wants to listen to it regardless
Ilias’ spirituality conflicts a bit with Beckett’s... atheism, I guess? Like he’s definitely not sure he believes in the spirits that Ilias regularly works with as a Koldun, but he’s willing to keep a relatively open mind. (He’s a bit less open-minded in Sascha’s belief in - and support of - Caine, given that he’s literally based his career around the metaphor theory!)
17. Which one uses cropped hentai as reaction images
Sascha.
They have troll tendencies, okay.
18. Does one of them kinkshame the other
There is absolutely no kinkshaming here. Listen Ilias was a Priest of Jarilo. Sascha was once on the Path of Pleasure too. Beckett seduced Dracula for information then forgot to ask his question. They’re all very open about everything.
There may be teasing about the odd hobby or interest but it’s pretty lighthearted.
19. Is one of them self conscious about their body? If so how does the other comfort them
Beckett occasionally has Moments over his hands and worries about hurting Sascha or something. They basically respond by being like “are you kidding the claws are hot as hell”. On occasion, Beckett will get one of them to Vicissitude them down if he wants to use his hands more, although they’ll regrow and be achey for a night or two afterwards.
20. Say they were cuddling on the bed while listening to record player playing the background. Which song is playing?
Honestly I want to say Third Eye by Florence + the Machine just for fic reasons. When I was writing Mantle I saw it very much as Beckett towards Sascha, but it fits with Ilias towards them as well.
I have no idea how they would have discovered F+tM but anyway.
23. What kinda joyrides do they go on? Relaxing ones or wild ones?
It. I imagine it usually involves police chases. When it doesn’t Beckett will occasionally go wolf so he can stick his head out the car window like :P
Shh don’t tell anyone.
25. Do people ever get annoyed of their pda
God probably. One of the main exceptions is Anatole, who’ll basically go, “Oh! Are we cuddling?” and flop on top of Beckett.
27. Which one’s the red, which one’s the blue
They’re all red. Fear. Ilias is probably closest to blue.
28. Are either of them mentally ill, if so how do they help one another cope
Sascha has both PTSD (from Symeon and Michael, and from the Eldest) and C-PTSD (from being bound to the Dracon for literal centuries). Also depression and anxiety, which are... pretty common with those. See question 8 for some of the coping methods, the rest is just... taking each day as it comes. Like they’ve lived a very long time, but they only got free of the Dracon in 2006, so it’s still a very new thing.
Ilias has some trauma from some of the things he’s had to do to survive since waking up with the Thirst of Ages, and gets into guilt spirals on occasion. He mostly focuses on Path of Nocturnal Redemption methods to work through it; he’s kind of adverse to anyone seeing him vulnerable like that. He knows Sascha has done some awful shit, but they weren’t themself at the time so Ilias feels it doesn’t count, and Beckett is like, Humanity 6? He just doesn’t get it, so Ilias keeps it to himself.
Beckett has an odd, acquired one - his experiences in Jerusalem left him with the ability (if it could be called an ability!) to occasionally hear the Cobweb (the Malkavian Madness Network). While his connection isn’t nearly as strong as an actual Malkavian’s, he does get odd flashes of Insight; less helpfully, it can occasionally get, uh, loud in his head. This tends to ramp up a bit with proximity to Malkavians, so when he’s around Anatole, Anatole will help him filter the voices and thoughts out by teaching him meditation techniques. (Given that Anatole - correctly - feels responsible for Beckett being afflicted thus, he wants to make sure it doesn’t hit his lover too badly.)
29. Does one have a spot on them where they would melt when the other kisses them there
Give Beckett head scritchies and he’ll turn into a puddle :3
34. Are they a reckless couple or safe
*loud, prolonged laughter*
37. Do they get into fights often? If so what do they fight over and how do they make up?
Sascha and Ilias are usually... very chill; if they argue, it’s over the other’s safety, like Ilias wanting to do something reckless and Sascha being very much ‘please do not’. Sascha and Beckett argue a bit more, although thankfully they have now stopped trying to literally kill each other XD When they do, it’s usually ideological, related to Gehenna, Caine, et cetera. Sascha is still very much a part of the Sabbat, and Beckett is, well, basically an atheist.
40. Who would fight in honor for the other if someone would insult them
All three tbh. Here’s a fun bit from the novel:
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Still really dig this bit from BJD, too!
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No misgendering on Beckett’s watch!
42. How would one react if the other was to die
Uh.
Poorly.
Like most of Sascha’s sanity slippage was due to the Dracon’s essence being fused to their own and just how the Eldest... did that, but a good part of it was absolutely due to Ilias’ death.
43. Who dies first
...canonically, Ilias XD;;
It’s okay he gets better.
3 notes · View notes
ellewritesathing · 5 years ago
Text
So Close - S.S. XXIII
Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.
Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 -  S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11 Part 13 - S3AE11 + S3AE12 Part 14 Part 15 - S3BE1 + S3BE2 Part 16 - S3BE3 + S3BE4 Part 17 - S3BE5 + S3BE6 Part 18 - S3BE7 + S3BE8 + S3BE9 Part 19 -  S3BE10 +  S3BE11 Part 20 -  S3BE11 +  S3BE12 Part 21 Part 22 - S4E1 + S4E2 Part 23 - S4E3 + S4E4 
Word-count: 4.9k+
A/N: hope you enjoy it guys!! :)
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“So,” he said as he slipped into the seat across from you, sliding your coffee over the table. 
“So,” you repeated, wrapping your hands around the mug. Another beat of awkward silence passed and you sighed and shifted in your chair. “Stiles, I thought we were here to talk?”
“Well, yeah, but I- I figured you’d want to go first,” he stammered as he recovered from a too-hot mouthful of hot chocolate. He added between blowing on his drink, “You know, maybe yell at me a little. The yelling is better than the silence.” 
“I figured you chose the most public coffee house in all of Beacon Hills so I wouldn’t yell at you,” you said with a small smile. He looked ridiculous trying to suffer his way through that drink. 
“Well, I mean, I chose it so you wouldn’t kick my ass,” Stiles said before taking another sip and scrunching up his face again. “Jesus, what they use to make this? Liquid lava? I-” 
“Here,” you said as you reached over and took the mug from him. You started stirring it, letting the steam swirl around, as you spoke, “I want you to explain before I say anything else, okay? Because I- I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I just … can’t wrap my head around it. There’s a lot that I don’t understand but why didn’t you - didn’t anyone - tell me that you weren’t actually dating Malia?” 
“I wanted us to talk before anyone else - namely Lydia - got involved,” he said. He was looking for something to fidget with since you had his drink, and seemed to settle on destroying a sugar packet. “But, uh, every time I tried to talk to you, you just shut me down. So then I talked to Isaac about it and he said-” 
“You talked to Isaac about us?” you asked, momentarily stopping your stirring. “When?” 
“Before we left for Mexico. He, uh, threatened to kill me a few times but he actually gave some pretty solid advice,” Stiles said as he nodded to himself. When you didn’t answer he kept going, “He said to let you cool off. You’d talk about when you were ready.” 
“Kind of surprised you didn’t figure that one out yourself,” you hummed as you leaned down to sip the hot chocolate. Still warm but not too hot. “Try this?” 
As you slid the mug back to him, his hands met yours, and as cheesy as it sounded everything went still for a second. His thanks hung in the air between you like a secret. And then someone dinged the bell in the front of the store and all the noise flooded back in. 
“Anyway, I, uh-” putting the sugar packet to the side, he took a sip of his drink. This time he didn’t burn his mouth. “I thought a lot about what I would say to explain all this when we did finally talk but now we’re here and I … have no freaking clue.” 
You smiled. At least you still made him nervous.
“So I’ll start at the beginning,” he sighed. “We had all these plans and you kissed me and I thought it’d never get better than that. But then, uh, you kinda stabbed me. Like twice. And-” 
“Stiles, that wasn’t you,” you interrupted. “You know I’d never hurt you.” 
“I know that now but I- he was in my head. And he made me think you hated us- me. That you hated me.” If he didn’t correct it so quickly, you’d never have noticed his slip. Us. “And I thought I was dying, and my sense of self-preservation is, like, non-existent. I just didn’t want to die alone.”
He looked up at you but you didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought. Something in your face must have conveyed that because he went on. 
“And then Malia showed up,” he said carefully. “I’ve been reading up on this and coyotes are more solitary animals. So I think she just … confused me not being a threat with something else. I don’t think she’s ever had a friend before.” 
“But she kissed you in Mexico,” you said. “After everything else happened.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’ve talked to her about it. Like a billion times,” he said. “I think she got it this time; she says she’s not gonna do it again. Besides, apparently, the kiss didn’t even really help her focus because all she could think about was the sandwich I had for lunch so, you know, that made me feel great about myself and … And I’m rambling again.” 
“Little bit,” you smiled. It felt less tense now that you were actually talking about everything. “But it’s cute.”
His eyes widened and his grip on his mug faltered slightly. “You, uh- ah, crap!” He spilled all over the table and scurried to get napkins to clean it up. Resting his arms on a pile of soaked napkins he asked, “You think I’m cute?” 
You laughed and reached up a hand to push him back to his side of the table. “I guess it’s my turn to talk now, huh?” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your mug. “I shouldn’t have left that night. It wasn’t very ‘no matter what’ of me.” 
Now Stiles got to be the one giving small smiles from the other side of the table and not interrupt. It sucked. 
“But it hurt. A lot,” you said. “Stiles, I’ve had a crush on you basically since we met. And I’ve had to watch you have crushes on literally every girl in Beacon Hills except for me. I didn’t mind so much because I knew you had no clue how I felt, but then you did. Pretty explicitly. And then you kissed Lydia, and Heather, and that girl from the rave. And then you slept with Malia - which, I know you just explained, but I’m still wrapping my head around that one.” 
He didn’t say anything and you sighed. 
“It just wasn’t something I wanted to deal with after everything else that happened that night,” you finished. “So I left, but I thought you’d come after me.” 
“You kinda stole my car,” he said, squinting slightly. 
“Not literally come after me. Metaphorically,” you said. It reminded you of arguing with Kira in the junk food aisle and you laughed slightly before taking a breath and calming down. “I just think we could have handled it better, you know?” 
“Yeah, but I mean, it’s us,” Stiles said, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t ever really handle things the best. It took us like a year just to admit we had feelings for each other.” 
“Thank you!” you laughed. “Literally everyone I talked to was like ‘you should be telling Stiles this-’”
“Exactly!” he almost yelled, prompting some old ladies to shush him. “Or ‘Stiles, I agreed to listen to you talk if you held my things while I shopped, but I don’t see my purse anywhere-’” 
“I mean, have they met us?” you laughed. You didn’t realize just how close you’d gotten while complaining. You took a breath and tried to focus on something other than Stiles’ lips. You weren’t sure how much time passed as you sat like that. 
“So, uh, you wanna grab dinner sometime?” he asked, voice low. 
“Maybe a movie?” you asked quietly. “I think we’ve done enough talking for now.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 
You pulled a face. “Don’t call me ma’am.” 
“Yes, sir?” he asked. You sat back in your chair and folded your arms over your chest as he tried looking for another word. “Coach?” 
“Oh my god, no!” you said. “Why am I even-” 
“Stilinski?” You turned to see Coach standing in line, squinting at your table. “There better not be any sugar in that cup because I can barely tolerate you at practice as it is.” 
“Uh, no! No, Coach. No sugar here. I didn’t even- this is her drink,” Stiles mumbled, pushing the hot chocolate over to you. 
“Then what’s that?” he asked, pointing at the coffee you had your hands wrapped around. 
“She’s a ... very thirsty girl. Terrified of dehydration,” Stiles nodded as he spoke. 
“Uh-huh,” Coach said slowly. “Just don’t be late for tryouts again.” 
--- 
“I don’t get it,” you said as you sat down. “I thought you wanted him to kiss you?” 
“Yeah, I do, but-” Kira sighed and shook her head. “It was the first kiss we had since our actual first kiss and …” 
“Still not seeing the problem here,” you said. 
“It was the kind of kiss of you give your grandma,” she blurted out. “And I don’t wanna be his grandma. Am I making too big a deal out of this? I feel like I’m making too big a deal out of this.”
“No,” you said at the same time that Malia said, “Yes.”
“Look, my brother is kind of dumb when it comes to relationships,” you said. “I can guarantee that if you just kiss him again - the way you want to be kissed - then it’ll be fine. He’s crazy about you.” 
“Right, right. Sure,” Kira said, nodding away. “But what if he doesn’t want to be kissed like that? Or at all.”
“What do you want?” Malia asked, looking up from her textbook. 
“More,” Kira said. She looked out onto the field, resting her chin on a lacrosse stick and you rubbed her back lightly. 
Then you saw Stiles throw the ball directly into the goalie’s net and you winced, pulling your hand back. The boy was a lot of things but good at lacrosse was not one of them. 
The next kid got the ball straight into the net and soon enough it was Scott’s turn. He actually was good at lacrosse now that he was a werewolf, but he hit the pole and you pulled a face. 
“Isn’t the captain supposed to be one of the best players on the team?” Kira asked. “Or good?”
“Give him some time,” you said gently. “He’s just warming up.”
In the next drill, Scott and Stiles were covering goal. Scott seemed to be over whatever was making him suck, and Stiles knew how to be part of a team so they were actually pretty okay. They headbutted each other, which probably just hurt because of the helmets, and then chest bumped when they blocked another player, which knocked Stiles to the ground. 
Then it was that kid from earlier, and he made his shot. He blew past Stiles and Scott and got the ball past the goalie. It was impressive.
Amid all the celebrating from the other players, Malia stood up. “That was luck!” she yelled. You didn’t even know she was paying attention behind all those quadratic equations. “Do-over!” 
“Sweetheart, there’s no do-overs,” Coach said, stifling a laugh. “This is practice.”
“Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles,” she said.
“I’ll take that action,” he said. “Hey! Get back in there, Liam!” 
Stiles was pulling a facial expression somewhere between confusion and annoyance so you smiled at him. Then he realized he’d have to do all that again and his face fell, and you had to turn away to hide your laughter. 
Coach blew his whistle and Liam blew past Stiles, again, but then he got to Scott and things changed. Scott slammed into him with his shoulder and managed to hit the poor kid so hard that he flipped over. You winced in the stands and ran over.
“Don’t move!” Coach yelled at Liam. Then he pointed at Scott and Stiles. “And don’t touch him!” 
“It’s okay, Coach. I’m alright,” Liam said before crying out in pain when they tried to get him to his feet. “I think it’s my leg.” 
“I think we better get him to the nurse,” Stiles said. He and Scott shuffled past you with Liam in their arms. He apologized and promised that he’d see you later, which distracted you from Coach’s yelling. 
He picked up a lacrosse ball and threw it, not realizing he was throwing it directly into the stands. Kira caught it just before it hit Malia’s face. 
“Wow,” Coach said. “Nice catch. Throw it back!” 
Kira shrugged and stood up. She threw the ball back and it hit him straight in the chest, knocking him to his knees. 
You dropped down to see if he was okay and all he managed to get out was, “Could you- ask her if she’s ever played lacrosse?”
---
“So you guys put him in the hospital?” you asked again, looking up from your book for clarification. 
“No, I- didn’t you just listen? Scott put him in the hospital,” Stiles said, using his hands to make his point.
“Uh-huh,” you said. You closed the book and spun his chair around so you could look at Stiles where he was sitting on the bed. “And you were just an innocent bystander who didn’t tell him to use his wolf-powers?” 
“Yes!” Stiles said. He collapsed into the bed before looking up at you. “Well, no. Technically speaking I…” 
You smiled at him as you came closer. You sat in front of him on the bed and put your hand on the side of his face. He started stuttering. 
“I mean, what does it mean to break someone’s bone, really? He’s still got like two hundred leftover so really nothing happened,” he said. “And you’re giving me that look like you’re not listening to what I’m saying.” 
“I’m listening,” you hummed. “But I thought since your dad’s not here and we are technically dating now …” 
“Oh,” he said, nodding, before realizing what you meant. “Oh.” He laughed and cupped your face with his hands. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 
You laughed as he pressed his lips against yours. It was probably the clumsiest kiss you’d ever had but that didn’t stop it from heating up very quickly. Clumsy hands and unsure movements- 
And then the door burst open and you both pulled away, fixing clothing and makeup and clearing your throats. 
“Malia?” Stiles asked. “You have the worst timing ever. Ever, you understand that?” 
She frowned at him, getting ready to say something before you sighed. 
“What’s wrong, Malia?” you asked as you straightened up. 
She looked between you and Stiles before sitting on the bed. “Stiles said he’d study with me and then blew me off for you. I wouldn’t have cared but I’m stuck and Lydia’s notes aren’t helping,” she explained. 
“Did you try talking to Lydia about it?” Stiles asked, still sounding annoyed. 
You hit his arm lightly. “Show me your problem and pull out Lydia’s notes. We’ll figure this out and then you need to learn to knock, okay?” 
She nodded and started digging in her bag while Stiles rubbed his arm, feigning a much greater injury. You rolled your eyes and looked at the papers Malia gave you. 
You frowned as you looked at them. The maths you got, but Lydia’s notes were …
“That’s not math,” Stiles said over your shoulder. “Lydia wrote these?” 
Malia nodded. 
“Stiles, the last time Lydia did something like this was the nemeton,” you said, closing the book and getting up. “We need to talk to her.”
--- 
Stiles dropped you and Malia off at Lydia’s house, but Scott called on the way over and said he needed Stiles’ help so he didn’t stick around. Lydia wasn’t home and her mom had no idea when she’d be back, so you told Malia to call you when she got back but you had to go see what trouble your brother was in.
You got home to find the house strangely quiet. Pushing the door to Scott’s room as gently as you could, it opened to Scott and Stiles standing in front of the kid from lacrosse practice who they’d duct-taped to a chair. 
“-More confusing things are gonna happen because of the confusing things that happened tonight. You understand?” Stiles asked. 
“Seriously?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest as you walked in. You looked at Stiles, then Liam, and then Scott. “Is this because he’s better at lacrosse than you?” 
“What? He’s not better at lacrosse than me,” Scott said. “Better than Stiles maybe, but not me.”
“Hey!” Stiles whined. 
He was going to go on when you held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it,” you said. “I’m going to make some tea because it was a very long walk over here, but he better be untied by the time I get back, okay?” 
“But he-” 
“Okay?” you repeated. “Remember what happened with Jackson?” 
“You’ve done this before?” Liam asked. 
“Listen, you’re really not helping your case by talking to her, alright, buddy,” Stiles said.
You rolled your eyes. “Let him go, okay? I’ll be back in five minutes.” 
The kettle hadn’t even finished boiling when you heard something break upstairs. You shook your head and made your way to the stairs where you ended up colliding with Liam. He caught you before you fell in a way that reminded you of Isaac when he’d just turned. Reflexes too fast than what he was used to. 
“I’m Liam,” he said breathlessly. 
“Y/N,” you said as you stepped out of his grip. He just looked at you and you heard yelling coming from upstairs. You took a step back just before Stiles jumped down the last of the stairs and toppled into him, Scott landing on them a few moments later. 
Liam squirmed out and through the front door while they each grabbed each others’ legs, yelling that they’d got him. 
“I think,” you started as they tired themselves out, “that all you’ve got is each other.” 
Stiles huffed as he threw Scott’s leg away from him. “Well, I’ve got you, right?” 
“After a cheesy line like that?” you asked as you turned and walked back to the kitchen. Stiles was complaining behind you and Scott was just staring out the front door.
---
“I’m not sharing my basement,” Malia argued. 
“Actually, it’s my basement,” Lydia said. “And my mom noticed how you tore it up last time.” 
“We’re going to use the boathouse for Liam anyway,” Scott said, trying to keep the peace. “It’s got support beams so we can chain him to one of them.” 
“But how do we get him out to the lake house if he doesn’t trust us?” Kira asked.
“I say, if it keeps him from murdering someone, we chloroform the little bastard and throw him in the lake,” Stiles said, miming the attack as he spoke. 
“I’m in!” Malia said. 
“I think I preferred it when I thought you two were dating,” you said. “The friends thing is a little weird and probably dangerous.” 
“We’re not killing or kidnapping him!” Scott said. 
“Then let’s be smarter,” Lydia said. “We tell him there’s a party and invite him.”
“So you’re going to ask out a freshman?” Stiles asked, an amused look on his face. 
“Oh, no,” Lydia said, laughing to herself. “I’m done with teenage boys. But if we’re playing a trick on someone ...” she said as she turned to Kira. “Why not use a trickster?”
“Who, me?” Kira asked. “No way. Not me.”
“Yes, you!” you bumped her arm as you spoke. 
“Why can’t you do it?” she whined. 
“Because he knows who I am and-” 
“You know what they call a female fox?” Lydia asked. “A vixen.”
“Me?” Kira asked softly. 
“You,” you said again. 
“You can do it, Kira,” Lydia said. “Be a vixen.” 
After some more convincing, Kira agreed to do it. You were all breaking up to get to your classes when Stiles reached for your hand. He was about to say something when you saw Scott turn to look at you, and you shoved Stiles away so hard that he crashed into one of the busses. 
Scott frowned as he turned around again and, after a second, you heard Stiles groan. You cursed and rushed over to him. 
“Are you okay?” you asked. 
“You mean other than my ego?” Stiles asked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m concussed.” 
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you said as you touched his head. 
“I don’t get why it happened in the first place,” he mumbled. “Is it Scott?” 
You bit your lip. “We need to tell him. Before we, you know, do anything else.” 
“You do realize you’re being ridiculous, right? He’s seen us hold hands about a million times before,” Stiles said. You nodded and gave him a sheepish smile before he wrapped an arm around you and kissed the top of your head. “Well, at least you’re self-aware.”
---
Stiles, Malia, and Lydia were waiting outside when you and Scott pulled up to the lake house. 
“I just talked to Kira and they’re on their way,” he said, sounding just as confused as you felt about why they weren’t inside. “She says everything’s fine.” 
“It’s not that. I have something to tell you,” Stiles said. “I asked around about Liam and I know why he got kicked out of his last school.” 
“Some of us just don’t do well in private school,” you said defensively. They looked at you and you sighed. “This is gonna be bad, isn’t it?” 
“He kind of got into it with one of his teachers,” Stiles explained. “And, uh, the kid’s got some serious anger issues.” 
“How serious?” Scott asked, eyes widening. 
“Well, that’s his teacher’s car,” Stiles said as he took out his phone to show you guys the photo. “After he took a crowbar to it.” 
“Liam? Puppy dog eyes Liam?” you asked as you and Scott looked at the photo. 
“I wouldn’t say they’re puppy dog eyes,” Stiles said. “Unless maybe a rabid pitbull had a baby with-” 
“Let’s wait inside,” Scott said, a few shades paler after looking at that photo. 
It didn’t take much waiting before you heard Kira pull in and then the two of them walked in. Liam immediately looked at all the full moon stuff you guys had out in the open and panicked. 
“What the hell is this?” he asked as Stiles waved at him. 
Kira closed the door before he could make a run for it. “Sorry.”
“Think of it like an intervention,” Stiles said. “You have a problem, Liam. And we’re the only ones that can help.”
Scott started explaining before Stiles could make things worse and the rest of you just had to listen and hope for the best once Liam started processing all the information. 
“Werewolf?” he asked after about a minute, pointing at your brother. “Werecoyote.” Malia nodded. “Banshee.” Lydia smiled. Then he turned to Kira. “Fox?” 
“Kitsune,” she corrected. “But fox works.”
“What about the two of you?” Liam asked. 
“Uh, for a little while, I was possessed by an evil spirit,” Stiles said. Liam stared at him. “It was very evil.” 
“Mm-hmm,” Liam nodded. “What are you now?” 
“Well, now I’m, uh- I’m better,” Stiles said. “Wh-”
You put a hand on his shoulder. “The two of us are human.” 
“I think one of you’s an idiot,” Liam said and you pulled Stiles back from arguing. “So those are for me?” He nodded at the pile of chains. 
“No, they’re for me,” Malia said, turning her eyes coyote blue. Definitely inherited the Hale flair for the dramatics, that’s for sure.
“How- how’d you do that?” Liam stammered. 
“You’ll learn,” Scott said. “But first you need to get through the full moon.” 
“The moon’s already out,” Liam said.
“And you’re starting to feel something, aren’t you?” Scott asked. 
“I feel like I’m surrounded by a bunch of psychotic nutjobs,” Liam snapped.
“Okay well ‘psychotic nutjob’ is redundant so-” you started. 
“You guys are out of your freaking minds!” He was starting to yell. “I don’t know how you did that eye thing, and I don’t care. I’m walking out the door right now! And if any of you try to stop me, I swear to God, I’m gonna-” 
He held his head in his hands and started yelling. It scared you, and you didn’t notice you’d reached for Stiles’ hand until he told you it was going to be alright. Then people started showing up and Scott and Kira dragged Liam out. Malia started turning so Stiles was taking her to the basement. You were about to follow when Lydia stopped you. 
“What am I supposed to do with the hordes gathering outside the door?” she asked. 
“I don’t know, Lydia,” you said. “Throw a party! You’re great at those.” 
“I do throw the best parties in Beacon Hills,” she said, more to herself than to you. 
“Hell yeah, you do!” you said as you gathered up what was left of the chains and cuffs. “See you later!” 
You ran out and down the basement stairs before she could yell at you. Stiles had Malia mostly set up by the time you got down there, and she told him that he could leave if he wanted. 
“No, I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Besides, I’m probably safer down here than at a party with fifty freshmen and a very pissed off Lydia.” 
You hadn’t realized that you’d frozen out of their sight, waiting to see what Stiles was going to say. It was stupid. Shaking your head, you piled up the leftover chain and stood up. 
“And it’s not like this is your first full moon,” you said as gently as you could. “It gets easier with each one.” 
“Yeah?” Malia asked. “How do you know?” 
“I might not be a werewolf but I know a thing or two,” you said, trying very hard not to be defensive. 
She looked ready to argue some more but Stiles changed the subject and you went to crack open a bottle of water. It was going to be a long night.
Malia had been doing pretty well the first hour or so, even if she was changing, but then she started struggling against the chains and begging you and Stiles to leave. 
“It’s okay. I hate parties,” Stiles assured her. “It’s a social anxiety thing.” 
She thrashed toward him again, and you reached for his arm reflexively. Maybe you weren’t the best person to be looking out for her when it was your first instinct to protect Stiles. 
“You ever had a panic attack?” he asked her. 
“I’m having one now,” she growled. 
“Just breathe, okay? We’re not going anywhere,” he promised. 
Malia was still struggling against the chains. You wondered how long they’d last before she pulled one out the wall. “But what if I hurt you?” 
“You’re not going to,” Stiles said. 
“Hey, Malia?” you said before she could answer. You let go of Stiles’ hand to pull up your shirt. “You see this scar here?” 
You could see her trying to focus, sweat beading on her forehead in concentration. She nodded. 
“My friend Erica did that to me on her second full moon,” you said. You rolled up your sleeve to show her another on your arm. “And this bad boy was Isaac’s. You remember Isaac from Mexico, right?” 
“He was there when Scott turned me,” she said through gritted teeth. 
“That’s him,” you said. You were getting closer to her. “Isaac was so angry when he turned. At his mom for leaving him ... his brother for abandoning him … his dad for beating the crap out of him. Most of all at himself though.” 
You paused for a second before blinking back a memory.  
“He was so afraid of hurting someone the way he’d been hurt that he made Derek lock him up every full moon,” you said. “One night his cuffs weren’t on properly and he was so distracted by his fear that he didn’t realize he’d slipped out until he had his claws in my arm.” 
“What did you do?” she asked. 
“Something kind of like this,” you said as you brought your hands up to her face. “I know you don’t want to hurt anyone. But the truth is you’re an apex predator now and you’re going to hurt people. You decide how far you go, Malia. You’re a predator, but that doesn’t make you a killer.” 
She was breathing heavy breaths, trying to concentrate on something. 
“Be your own anchor, Malia,” you urged. “I know you can do this.” 
It sounded like she was in pain, but you kept holding onto her face. 
“Come on, I know you’ve got this,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
You felt Stiles’ hand on your shoulder after another minute of heavy and slow breathing, and he got you to stand back up. As your hand was drifting back to your side, Malia caught your wrist. Her steely blue eyes met yours, but her wolfish features were gone.
“I think we’re gonna need another one of these,” she said, holding up a broken cuff. Her breathing was still labored, and after a second the blue eyes were gone. 
“Oh my god, you did it!” Stiles cheered. He blew past you to give her a hug and you felt something twinge inside. “Hey, what are you doing over there?”
You shrugged, not really having an answer. 
“Get over here!” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We did it!”
And just like that, whatever it was that made you sad or jealous a moment before was gone. You guys were in a good place.
Part 24 
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broadwaycantdie · 5 years ago
Text
Race’s Quarantine Journal
( Race’s POV ) + ( Diary ) + ( High School AU )
a/n: aka me projecting
sorry this is shitty, i’m just feeling a lot rn and i wanted to get it all out
warnings: mental health, mentions of self harm and death, language
March 10, 2020
Everything has been crazy. People keep talking about some virus going around. It’s probably not too bad, I’ve had the flu before.
March 13, 2020
My school just sent me an email saying we can’t go back until April? Huh? Well at least I can finally get a break. School has been kicking my ass. I need a nice little vacation. I’ll relax and hang out with my friends. A quick little month long break ain’t too bad my senior year.
March 18, 2020
You’re telling me that my teachers are still giving work on this break? And they want me to video chat with them? Hell no. This is my vacation. I’ll just catch up when we go back to school.
March 21, 2020
So my parents aren’t letting me leave the house? It can’t be that bad. Maybe I should do my own research cause there is no way that all these shops should be closing and that I can't leave. I don't know what I’ll do if I’m stuck in this house for a month. All my friends can't leave either. Maybe we can just video chat I guess. I’ll see them soon enough anyway.
March 31, 2020
I’ve done so much research. Everything is so bad. So many people are dying. No one is doing anything about it. Why the fuck isn't anyone doing anything about it? Why are people still going out? Nothing is open. Go home.
April 1, 2020
I woke up today hoping this all was a crazy April Fool’s prank.
I wish I was right.
April 6, 2020
I was supposed to go back to school today.
Instead I got another email saying the closure got extended.
I don’t know when we’ll be able to go back.
April 10, 2020
I’ve been picking up a lot of hobbies.
Mostly I’ve been dancing. It calms my nerves. I’m going crazy in this house.
I tried painting but that got messy. I tried reading some books but words have never been the easiest things for me. I tried playing guitar with an old one I found in the garage but it hurts my fingers too much.
I’ll stick with dancing.
April 15, 2020
I don’t know what else to do. I’ve redecorated my bedroom 3 times and my parents told me if they hear me moving furniture in the middle of the night one more time they’d make me take everything down.
I feel trapped.
April 16, 2020
Maybe I should try to write in here more. That’s the only thing I can think to do. I could do a “what I did today” or a mood tracker. I might actually do the mood tracker but I know all well I won’t do it everyday. Maybe weekly? Maybe every couple days? Maybe whenever I feel like it?
Okay....today I feel: Bored.
April 22, 2020
It's Earth Day. One of my favorite days.
I hope that with the world shut down the Earth can breathe a little easier today.
Today I feel: Hopeful.
April 25, 2020
Today would’ve been my senior prom.
I actually had a date and everything, for the first time. How great would that have been?
I’m not gonna write a lot today. Too sad.
May 1, 2020
I can’t do this much longer. Everything sucks and I feel so stuck. I haven't left my house, I haven't seen my friends, my family is driving me crazy, my sleep schedule is totally fucked, I haven’t been this depressed since middle school, and I can’t do anything about any of it. It fucking sucks.
May 3, 2020
Let’s play a fun game. Okay so I’ll start with 10 fingers up and if this thing has happened put a finger down.
Okay so put a finger down if you really liked someone and you had a good thing going with them but you let the worst person in your life convince you that you shouldn't be with them and that they were the problem so you had to hurt the person you really liked to make the worst person feel better cause they manipulated you and took control of your brain and then the person you liked ended up dating one of your friends and you couldn't even be mad at them cause they were so happy and cute and you were happy for them both but then they broke up and you don’t know if it’s cool to talk to the guy you liked cause your friend is the ex and you haven't talked to them in a long time and they probably hate you cause you hurt him and he wouldn't understand cause your excuse is so shitty and you guys are now so different and life is just really hard and you think about what y’all had and miss it so much cause it was so good and thats all you want, to be loved, and you know it’ll never be the same so you don't even bother.
I’m down to 9 fingers.
God I fucking miss him.
May 4, 2020
For a long time I’ve convinced myself I don’t deserve love and I really think it’s true. That’s all I’ve ever wanted but I’ve done so many bad things what if no one wants me?
Everyone hates me. My friends only pretend to like me. I don’t understand why someone would want to be friends with someone like me. I’m so difficult.
May 6, 2020
It feels like I dropped out.
I’m not doing any school work. I missed my prom. I probably won't have a graduation ceremony. Worst part is, I didn’t drop out. I can’t just move on. I have to just sit with this.
I guess it's not hitting me as hard as some other people because I didn’t even plan to be alive this long so I was already prepared to miss them. It’ll probably hit me soon tho. I just won't let myself breakdown. Not yet.
May 8, 2020
Can I just say something?
I’m so fucking tired of being alone.
Not just cause quarantine, like in general. I want to be loved but I have to fuck everything up all the time, God why am I so stupid all the time?
And I don’t mean my friends just saying “oh I love you!” like no, thats nice, but at the end of the day that’s not the kind of love thats going to marry me, or hold me when I can’t sleep at night, or cook dinner with me.
I’m so tired of being undeserving and undesirable. What is wrong with me? What does everyone hate so much?
If I’m being honest, I cry every night because of this loneliness I feel. I just want it to stop.
May 10, 2020
My panic attacks are getting worse. For no reason.
I panic over things that 3 months ago I would've just pushed away. But now this isolation and fear is making everything so bad.
I started seeing things again. I started picking and twitching and shaking again. I haven't been this bad in a long time. How long before the thoughts come back? The urges? Will I be able to stop them this time? I hope so. I really hope.
May 13, 2020
So I’ve officially reverted back into my childhood state of watching old cartoons all day for any sort of serotonin. It's working a little ngl.
May 15, 2020
I picked up my yearbook today. I drove to my school and they handed it to me through a window. Can’t get it signed, can’t see anyone, can’t do anything.
I don't know if I have the strength to look through it right now knowing I might never see these kids again.
May 17, 2020
I had one of the worst episodes in a while today.
I saw this video and I don’t wanna talk about it cause I don't want to think about it but it made me twitch and shake for so long.
I couldn’t stop. I was so scared. I picked at my skin for a long time. I couldn't open my eyes. My head hurts from shaking for so long.
I just want to go to sleep.
May 20, 2020
My parents are so clueless. Do they really not know? Do they choose to look past it? Do they know and not want to say anything?
Can they not see that I’m not fucking okay?
There is no way they don’t notice how I twitch and shake and pick at my skin. They can’t ignore my tear soaked face almost daily. They might not see when I wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and desperately try to calm myself. But they never ask me if I’m okay.
The answer is “no” if they ever decide to ask.
May 23, 2020
I’m official a high school graduate!
Though it doesn't really feel like it.
I drove to the school and picked up my diploma and that was it. A masked “congratulations” and a piece of paper and that was that.
Congrats to me though. I guess.
May 27, 2020
I feel so empty.
Actually, I don't feel anything.
I just sit here. I don't remember when I last ate. I haven’t gotten out of bed. Haven’t watched anything. Just thinking.
Today is not a good day.
I don't want to be alive today.
I just hope the urges stay at bay. I don't know if I can stop myself this time.
May 30, 2020
I wish I was dead.
Everything I love is being taken away from me.
I want to kill myself. I haven’t felt like this in years. Everything is only getting worse and I can't stop it.
I want to but I can’t. If I try and fail thats selfish cause I’d be taking up space in the hospital for people who actually need it.
I’m useless. I’m powerless. I want out.
May 31, 2020
I’m so sick. I’m so weak. My head is killing me.
I’m not sick, I just feel shitty. Not an uncommon feeling.
I don’t know how much longer I can fight off the urges.
I’m sorry.
I wish I was sick. It would make this whole thing easier. I feel like this will never end. I want out.
I’m sorry.
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ohblackdiamond · 4 years ago
Text
little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 19 of 29)
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   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29
Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic.  In this chapter:  Paul has a nightmare and finally starts to confess to Gene. (Yes, there’s finally some smut again.) (Author’s note 6/24/2020: Smut has been revised! Thighsex imminent.)
           In his dreams Paul was always himself. Sometimes he was eight years old, in the school playground, hearing his classmates singsong "Stanley the one-eared monster" to the tune of Rudolph, and sometimes the classmates would turn into a whole stadium full of people, thousands, cackling and pointing, while he stood onstage and couldn't say a word. Sometimes he was his own age, walking off a plane, or at a photoshoot, stripped down and bare-faced and afraid as soon as the cameras started.
           That night he was seventeen again. He knew because the T.V. was on in the living room, Neil Armstrong on the screen in all his astronaut garb, sticking the flag up on the Moon's rocky soil. Julia was there, for once, sitting beside him on the couch.
           "Do you think it's real?" she said, and he looked at her, disgusted.
           (of course it's real)
           "Do you think it's real?" she repeated, and he thought she must not have heard him. He put his hand to his face, touching the start of his sideburns—something new he was trying, something he'd need to shave before school started back up, but for now, it was cool. He'd seen them on rockstars, but rarely in person, and never on someone he knew, until that guy he'd met a month back. Gene. But Gene was too fat in the face to pull the look off. They would look better on him, once they grew out.
           (it's got to be real. why would they waste all that time and money on something that wasn't real? why would they be so stupid?)
           "You tell me," Julia said, and her face and build shifted, dark hair bleaching out to light brown, pockmarks and freckles sketching across her face, Carol's face, Carol's voice now, Carol's hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Why don't you tell me, Stan?"
         (i don't—)
        Another shift. Carol's face melted down, skull pushing outward, hair going shaggy and wild. Her nose forced out and flattened all at once, muzzle emerging. A lion's face on a man's body, a man's voice coming through its throat.
           "Are you going to tell me?"
         (please)
          (please, take it off, i'm sorry—i'm so sorry—)
           "Is it real?"
          (please)
        (what're you saying, i don't understand)
           "Is love real, Stan?" Marbas' voice was oddly soft as he curled his hand around Paul's suddenly much more narrow shoulder. Tapped it, then Marbas' still-human fingers moved to trace the sides of his smooth, bare face. "Or—let's put it differently. What she felt for you, was that love?"
           (i)
            (i don't think you can love someone you don't know)
           But you've made your fortune pretending." Marbas' lips pulled back, revealing teeth as long as his thumbs. "And so has he."
          (he?)
           "The man in your bed." The demon pushed Paul's hair behind his left ear. "I've cursed greater men than you. Byron. Shelley. More. Watching you was hardly entertaining in comparison, until he came along."
         (don't hurt him)
          (please don't—)
           "Do you really love him, Stan?" Marbas didn't give him time to answer, tugging at a curl, longer now than it had been minutes before. Paul couldn't feel a centimeter of what was happening to him, could barely do more than watch and breathe as his body warped before him. "Why? Because he was kind to you?"
          (i don't know)
           "Because he had the qualities you lacked? Or because you didn't believe he'd want you?"
          (i don't know!)
           The demon wasn't letting the point go. Neil Armstrong still in the background, the sound of the T.V. tinny. His shoes off to the side on the dirty carpet. The plugged-in fan on the coffee table. Everything, everything the same in that little apartment but him.
           "You won't tell me. You won't tell him. What I wrought on you really makes no difference." Marbas touched the center of chest, full and heavy before the demon even moved his finger towards it, and Paul realized, just from what he could see of his body, that he was still seventeen after all. The weight he'd had back then was there, the stomach flab, the too-thick thighs. Every bit of him dumpy and unattractive, no definition, nothing worth wanting. "Even if you'd always had this form, you'd have kept your silence. You'd never have given yourself up."
          (i can't, i just can't—)
           "Then you want to remain as you are?" The demon's mouth twitched again; he seemed almost to smile, fingers toying with Paul's shirt.
          (of course not!)
          (you don't understand!)
           "Paul? Paul, wake up."
           He opened his eyes. Gene was there, leaning over him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a book and a newspaper on the other side of the bed. Gene had stayed with him.
           "What time is it?"
           "Noon. Are you okay?"
           Paul nodded, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Looking down, he realized he was still in last night's dress. The nightie's straps beneath it, amazingly, had stayed in place, though the sleeves of the dress had slid a bit. He swallowed, the memories of the night prior trickling in like a drizzle before a thunderstorm, replacing the fragments of his dream, and tugged the sleeves back up to his shoulder.
           "Did I say anything strange?"
           "You were getting kind of twitchy."
           A glance at the kicked-askew bedsheets told Paul that was an understatement.
           "I'm sorry."
           "No, I'm sorry. I should have stopped you."
           "From kicking in my sleep?"
           "From leaving last night."
           Paul looked over at him.
           "What could you have done? Chased down my car?"
           "I could've grabbed you when you were going out the door." Gene grabbed the book—it was one of his old self-help numbers from high school—and set it on the nightstand, possibly the only attempt at putting something away that Paul had ever seen out of him. "Or I could've done what you wanted. It's my fault."
           "It's not your fault at all. You got me out of there." Paul shifted until he was on his side. "If it hadn't been for you, I…"
           "Mary-Anne was taking care of you."
           "She… she was, wasn't she? She must've thought I was so stupid." He shook his head. "I don't know how you knew where to look for me."
           "I didn't. It was just a guess."
           "I shouldn't have gone off. I guess I wanted to… I don't know what I wanted." Paul paused. "I'm okay. I promise."
           "Are you sure nothing—"
           "Nothing happened." Paul tried to smile, weakly. "I wouldn't still be in this shape if something had."
           "If anybody touched you, then—"
           "It's fine. I'm fine."
           "Paul, you're not fine." Gene swallowed. "Somebody spiked your drink."
           Paul didn't answer for a long moment.
           "Nobody spiked my drink."
           "What?"
           "I said nobody spiked my drink. I took the 'ludes myself."
           He didn't want to look Gene in the face. He didn't want to see the disappointment and disgust there, now that he knew that Paul had drugged himself when he was already in danger. That he hadn't been innocent. That had to have done it for Gene. Wrecked any chance of leftover fondness or want.
           "Why?"
           "Because I couldn't stand the thought of fucking some random guy sober." Paul exhaled. "I didn't realize I couldn't stand the thought of fucking him trashed, either."
           "Paul—"
           "It's okay, all right?"
           He was surprised when Gene gathered him up in his arms. His breaths hitched, all of him just tightening, tightening up at first. Gene almost let go then, but then Paul grabbed him, burying his face against Gene's neck.
           He didn't deserve that kind of comfort out of Gene after what he'd done. Worrying Gene. Risking his own safety. He knew it, but that didn't make him any less greedy for it. He remembered, in blurred-out fragments, Gene's hold on him in CBGB last night, Gene's arm around him in the limo. Gene wiping his face off with the towel. He remembered leaning into all that warmth, too 'luded out to even quite understand it, only recognize that it was there for him, despite everything.
           Hopeless. So hopeless. But he kept holding on anyway, grateful, pathetically grateful, holding on longer than he should have, breathing in the scent of Gene's skin. Closer than he'd ever let himself get before. Closer, maybe, than he'd ever get again. Gene hadn't even gotten dressed yet, was still in his boxers, and his bare arms around him felt so good, so reassuring, it almost hurt. Paul shut his eyes and peeled himself away, not wanting to wait for Gene to let go first.
           "It's really… it's okay."
           And then he got up. He felt more clearheaded than he'd expected. Peter had told him 'ludes kept him from waking up with a hangover after a night of partying, but he'd never really believed him until now. Except for the acrid taste of vomit and morning breath still in his mouth, he felt… bizarrely enough, he almost felt refreshed, physically. He crossed over to the master bathroom, brushing his teeth and gargling with mouthwash before returning to the bedroom. He walked over to the closet door, where the other blouse and dress that he'd bought still hung from coathangers. "I… I'm gonna get dressed. Which one do you want?"
           "Paul, they're your clothes."
           Paul chewed on his lip and took the dress off its hanger, lining it up level against him. The hem fell two or three inches above his knee. He turned around, dress in hand, and started to head back to the bathroom, but Gene spoke again before he got there.
           "Don't wear things just because you think I'll like them."
           "I'm not."
           "Paul." Gene got up from the bed. "I gave it a lot of thought last night. I haven't helped you out like I needed to."
           "Gene, all you've done is help me out."
           "I've hurt your self-respect. I told you what to do. I made you dependent on me."
           "I was depending on you way before this. You just didn't realize it."
           "Not that way." Gene walked up to him. Paul draped the dress over one arm like a waiter's napkin. "I made you feel like you had to—to wear things, to do things, to keep my attention. I never should've—"
           "That's not true."
           "Yeah, it is. Last night, before you left…" Gene's gaze lowered to the floor before lifting back to meet Paul's. "I didn't know why you were acting like that. I'd thought you wanted me."
           There it was. There it was, closer than Paul had ever dared to put it himself. There was his chance. He could shut it all down right now, seal off any hope of Gene ever getting close enough to hurt again, do what last night had, somehow, failed to manage. Drive Gene away with an assurance that what he'd done, he'd done out of practicality. Tell Gene he'd used him all the way around, that every flirt, every kiss, had just been a means to an end. Lie to him the way he couldn't lie to himself.
           He had to struggle to keep looking Gene in the eye. The nerves that the Quaaludes and drinks had destroyed were all back again; he was keenly, so keenly aware of what he stood to lose. Gene's expression was guilty, almost penitent, and that hurt, too, but—maybe there was something past that. Maybe there was still some desire left in him. Maybe, even, if it wasn't the same as what Paul felt, it would still be okay. Paul wanted to believe that. He took a breath, and said three words.
           "You weren't wrong."
           "What?"
           "I did want you."
           "C'mon, Paul. You know my ego could use a little knocking down."
           "I did want you. I do want you."
           "Paul—"
           It felt like he was walking through water, every movement artificially slowed down. Two steps to close in on Gene. The reach of his hand to touch Gene's face, the morning stubble he hadn't yet shaved, tugging his chin down to kiss him. Just once, quickly, softly. Gene didn't stiffen up, didn't draw back, but he didn't answer immediately, either. As he broke the kiss, looking at Gene, trying to gauge his expression, Paul realized, offhand, that he'd had to raise up on the balls of his feet just to reach him. He hadn't even noticed.
           "You're not gonna want me after. I know that."
           "I don't know that I'd say that."
           "I would." Paul's mouth crooked upward, only a little wobbly. The words seemed to spill out of him like the water from a burst dam. "That's why I acted like that. That's why I left, because I knew."
           "Paul, listen—" Gene started, but Paul cut him off.
           "It's okay. I… I haven't treated you right. You've been real good to me and I—" Paul shook his head. "Let's try, all right? If you still want to—I wanna try."
           "I—"
           "I don't think I could go all the way yet. But I wanna be with you."
           "Don't push yourself. Especially not after last night."
           "I'm not pushing myself."
           "Paul, I'm serious."
           "I'm serious, too."
           Gene didn't answer for awhile. Paul felt frozen in front of him, biting back a thousand more words, swallowing every impulse to spill his guts even further. He wouldn't hold eight years of want over Gene's head like a ransom that needed to be paid. He wouldn't beg Gene again. He wouldn't yell at him, or throw a fit. And he wouldn't—he wouldn't give himself up, any more than he had already. He couldn't.
           Gene's hand touched his cheek. He seemed to be thinking. Gene always seemed to be thinking. Paul took a few quick breaths, until Gene bent his head and met Paul's lips with his own. Warm lips he'd already half-given up on touching again. Paul kissed back hard, suddenly desperate, arms looping around the back of Gene's neck. Beyond eager, beyond grateful, wanting to erase the memory of last night on the bed. Touching him the way he'd wanted to before. Kissing him the way he'd wanted to before, the way he'd done when they were dancing. Gene's tongue was in his mouth, one hand tangling against in his hair while the other tugged him tight against him.
  ��        Paul was getting wet, like before, trying to grind against Gene like he still had a dick, like any movement of his hips right now, standing up, was granting him half the friction it was giving Gene. Gene was tugging him backwards before long, back towards the bed. Paul let him. His whole body felt hot and just on the verge, already unraveled over so little. Gene eased him into sitting on the bed and he scooted backwards, swinging his legs across the bed.
           Gene didn't go for the zipper of his dress this time. He seemed almost cautious, only kissing him on the mouth and neck, not yet even groping his chest. Paul reached behind him, sliding the zipper down, down, sliding the dress off. More purposely exposed than Gene had seen him until now, nothing remaining but the thin, purple nightie and panties. He was trying not to squirm as he felt Gene's gaze on him, but he couldn't seem to help himself, fingers curling around the nightie's hem. When he'd put it on late yesterday afternoon, he'd realized how short it was, the hem only barely skirting the upper part of his thighs, and how the silky material strained against his breasts. It had sort of warmed him, then, made him feel a little hopeful, a little desirable. Now, he wasn't so sure.
           "Do you like it?"
           "Yeah. It looks good on you."
           "I got it for you."
           Gene hesitated.
           "That's what I mean, you don't need to wear things to—"
           "I'm not—"
           "What… what I mean is, you had my attention already."
           Paul felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He didn't know how to answer that. Gene didn't seem to be waiting on an answer, anyway, one hand sliding up his thigh, beneath the nightie, tracing the soft skin there and the spreading wetness on his panties. His other hand went for one breast, squeezing it, sending another surge of need through Paul's body. He'd tried groping his own breasts a few times, before Gene came, never getting anywhere with it. It had been about as pleasurable as rubbing a hand against his knee. But now that Gene was touching them, tweaking one already-hard nipple and then the other, Paul found himself groaning, back arching. On some level it was almost humiliating, to be crying out over so little. Gene's other hand had only barely started rubbing him through the damp fabric.
           Gene tugged Paul up on his lap before long, Paul's legs splayed on either side of him, the nightie bunched up above his hips. Gene's erection was rubbing up against him, too tantalizingly close to be avoidable now, and Paul held his breath, half-expecting Gene's slow strokes to stop entirely, but they didn't. Paul grunted a bit, tugging the elastic of Gene's boxers down just enough to free his dick.
           "Lemme suck you off," he urged, starting to scoot back, although the twitch of Gene's fingers, finally sliding beneath his panties, made it almost impossible to want to get off of him for that long. "You haven't gotten a damn thing out of this yet."
           "I don't know about that." Gene was smiling, running his fingers against his slick folds, Paul pushing his hips forward to meet them. "Just give me a hand here. I've got a great view."
           "C'mon, you… you can't just want a handjob." It had to be disappointing enough just keeping it to fooling around in the first place with him. Paul hadn't even been brave enough to take off the nightgown. Paul grasped Gene's dick anyway, almost unprompted, his own strokes firmer and more assured than he'd expected. He watched Gene take a deep breath, his cock already twitching a bit in his hand. "I've blown guys before, I'm not a virgin there—"
           "Maybe later." Gene grinned, pressed a kiss to his throat. "You know, I never actually got to see you relax the other night." His finger ran lightly across the edge of his clit, too lightly.
           "You felt it," Paul protested, distracted. It was already getting hard to concentrate. He didn't want to halfass it, especially when part of him could still barely believe it was happening at all. Especially when he knew, from rare, scattered conversations early on when they'd toured, that Gene tried to avoid masturbating much—which had always struck Paul as weird. Gene's selective orthodoxy and hang-ups were so baffling. He shifted, rolling his hips harder against Gene's fingers and hand.
           "Let me see it."
           Oh. Oh. Paul was crying out again, cursing as he tried to focus, keep a rhythm going despite his own arousal. The precome already dripping from the tip was gratifying, Gene's breaths getting ragged, but he didn't know if it was enough. Gene kept watching him, watching his face. Every high-pitched sound that came out of Paul's throat was hotly embarrassing, not in the least because Gene was quieter in comparison, while Paul's moaning was only ever covered up when his lips met Gene's. But Gene was getting less cautious now, groping his breasts beneath the nightie instead of just through it, the skin-on-skin sensation almost overwhelming. His other hand, caught between Paul's thighs, was certain, slipping along his folds, finger running small strokes against the hood and clit.
          Gene was already closer than he was. Paul could tell that by the feel of his dick in his hand, and the expressions crossing his face, making him redouble his efforts. Paul’s vision swam, his own concentration faltering far before Gene came, groaning lowly, spurting mostly in his hand and on his dick, a bit of come ending up on Paul’s bare thigh. Paul let go, bracing his damp hand on the bed, leaning forward. Gene’s own hand had gone almost still between his legs. The blissed-out look on Gene’s face almost made up for it.
          “Hey, Paul, you haven’t—” Gene started, fingers moving again, not quite as intently as before. Paul grabbed his wrist, tugging it back.
          “Wait. Let’s try something else.”
          Gene looked a little confused but moved his hand away, starting to rest it on his leg. Paul shook his head.
          “Not there. I need that.”
          “You need that?” Gene furrowing his brows post-coital would’ve been funny, if Paul wasn’t battling his own arousal. The heat was starting to rise in his cheeks as he took Gene by the wrist again, setting it on the sheets. He wasn’t quite able to look Gene in the eye again yet, so he ran his fingers against the warm, soft fabric of his boxers, rolling up the hem of one leg slightly, mouth pursed.
          “You’ll see.”
          Paul closed his eyes briefly, breaths heavy, and scooted in closer, shifting until he was straddling one of Gene’s thighs. He made only a token effort at wiping his right hand off on the sheet before clasping both hands around the back of Gene’s neck, as he started to rub himself against Gene’s leg.
          Gene’s lips parted in surprise. Unbelievably, he actually looked like he didn’t know what to do at first, hands taking awhile to find their way back to Paul, one resting on his shoulder while the other slipped back under the nightie to rove over his stomach and back up to his breasts. Pairing that with Paul’s own grinding made it all the more intense, stimulation almost overwhelming. His damp panties were barely a barrier, exactly the extra friction he needed as he rocked his hips in short, quick bursts. Every so often, his leg would brush up against Gene’s dick—still soft for now, but still its own sharp thrill. Warm. As long as he was this close, this wet, he wasn’t nearly so worried about how letting him, about how actually fucking, would end it. It was just something else spurring on his arousal, a promise of something to come.
          “You’re killing me, Paul.”
          “Yeah?” Paul’s mouth twitched into a small smile as Gene tugged him into a kiss.His legs were clamping tight around Gene’s thigh nearly of their own accord, amping up the pressure, concentrating it. Paul was panting and groaning again before long. His clit was throbbing, the wetness that had already soaked through his underwear going past it, making Gene’s bare skin and the edge of his boxers slightly slick.  Easy to push and rub up against, find the exact right rhythm to leave him breathless.
          But it wasn’t quite enough until Gene pulled him forward just a bit, just until Paul found himself panting against his neck. Paul sped up a little, hips rocking, moans and curses all he seemed able to manage as the pleasure built up, closer, closer. He realized, dimly, that he was starting to finally get used to this body, figure out what he liked now, how to get off. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, not that it mattered right now. Gene was still watching, his gaze, the unfettered, needy want there making Paul feel heady. Looking him right in the eye was better than before, better than it had been in the dark. He cried out again, sharply, as he finally came, clutching Gene hard as he rode out his orgasm. It was a few seconds before he let go, Gene’s grip on his shoulder not loosening up until Paul relaxed his legs again.
          “Gene,” he said. “That… that was good.”
          “Yeah? Good.” Gene grinned. “You look cute when you come.”
          Paul glanced down reflexively at the comment, shaking his head. The spunk on his hand and on the sheets was long since clotted up. He started to get up from Gene’s thigh, a little shakily, straightening his underwear and pushing down the nightie with his clean hand. He felt a little like apologizing—it couldn’t have been that good for Gene, who probably hadn’t had a chick stop at a handjob with him in ten years, and Paul knew he couldn’t have been that fun to watch get off, either, if only because of what it wasn’t—but Gene didn’t look unhappy with the way things had gone at all. He looked pleased, maybe almost sated, running his hand almost possessively down the wet spot Paul had left behind on his thigh and boxers, rubbing the fluid between his fingertips. Paul’s face felt hot as Gene brought his fingers to his lips.
          “You taste pretty good, too.”
           “Aw, c’mon, Gene--”
          “You do.”
          Paul shook his head, but his heart was beating a hard, hopeful cadence at the words. He didn't quite feel sated. There was a weird leftover warmth in him, a deep-down feeling that he could probably go again without much trouble, but he felt like he'd asked too much of Gene already. It'd probably be another ten minutes at least before Gene could get hard again.
           "Uh. Lemme get you a towel or something, then we can… I don't know, I can fix some toast…" Paul trailed, awkward as all hell, starting to scoot off the bed. He'd forgotten how to handle anyone in the after. Gene, especially. Gene looked at him as if he were about to laugh.
           "You'll really leave it at that?"
           "I'm not leaving it at anything." Paul tried to rearrange his face into as bland an expression as he could, too keenly aware of how tightly he was still pressing his thighs together. Gene laughed, tugging him back up by the arm, back nearly into place on his lap. He wasn't facing him head-on this time, at first, but he turned his head, a vague sort of hope making his pulse flit. "C'mon, Gene, I know you can't—"
           "You have a hard time enjoying anything, don't you?"
           Oh, God. Just like last time, Gene was picking the worst point possible to start asking questions. Paul hesitated.
           "I enjoy plenty."
           "You're still soaking." Gene had gone for the hem of the nightie, tugging it up and pressing a finger against his panties, making Paul twitch anew. "I bet you could go again. Maybe more than once."
           "I don't know— "
           "You wanna try?" Gene leaned in, kissing the top of his head. Just as easy and thoughtless as if they really were together. As if this wasn't going to evaporate the second Paul gathered up enough nerve to give in entirely.  Why shouldn't he be thoughtless about it? I want you was all Paul had managed to own up to.
           Paul shoved those thoughts aside as hard as he could, and turned around entirely, tracing his hand down Gene's chest. Gene, to his credit, barely winced at the cold, not nearly inadvertent smear of come from Paul's hand.
           "Depends. Would you go down on me for it?"
           The glint in Gene's eye gave him away long before he even licked his lips.
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starrybbarnes · 5 years ago
Text
impressions [b.b]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Clint Barton x Reader (Family)
Summary: you’re a new recruit, and Bucky has been keeping on eye on you on why you were hand-selected by Stark. One day he finds out why.
Word Count: 3083
Author’s note: imagine hawkeye being your uncle. the bants would be amazing. anyways, I’m trying to keep writing as much as i can, so if y’alls have any requests, it might come to life! :)
Warnings: it’s a long fic?? Maybe a swear ? some old man humor?
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“Well, here we are!”
The car came to a complete stop right in front of the Avengers compound. It was huge, pristine. Almost scary-looking if it weren’t for the sight of two agents in the middle of the front lawn doing yoga.
“Y’know uncle,” you started, “I’m having second thoughts.”
“Oh, nonsense, Y/N” your uncle Clint chuckled. “Everyone is very excited to meet you, especially Wonder Boy.”
You rolled your eyes at the last part. You always wondered what it was like to work with that man. And now it was coming to a reality. You couldn’t thank your uncle enough for taking you under his wing. From a young age, he saw that you were very much interested in whatever “uncle Clint was up to.” It also helped that you had a sharp eye for accuracy.
Therefore, it only seemed fitting that while in school, your uncle would train you 3 times a week after school was done. Before you knew it, you became one of the best markswomen in the family. Next to your Uncle, of course.
The door opens to reveal a very giddy Tony Stark, embracing your uncle in a huge hug and some remarks about the family, the weather, the Knicks,  standard dad stuff.
“And I’m assuming this is Y/N,” Tony said as he turned to you: he stuck out his hand, “An absolute pleasure to meet you.”
“If anything, I’m the one that’s starstruck,” you gushed, “I’m a huge fan of your technology and work in general. It’s pretty cool.”
“You see, Legolas!” Tony cheered, “I’m still hip and coool.”
“Man, don’t make me regret my compliment, Stark,” you groaned, “you sound just like my Uncle on trivia night.”
“Hey, hey, hey” Uncle Clint argued, “I’ll have you know I’m an absolute boss when it comes to pop culture references. The me-mes, if you will.”
“I’m gonna internally combust,” you sighed, earning chuckles from both Stark and your uncle.
“Walk with me, Y/N,” Stark started as the three of you made your way inside the compound, “so tell me a bit about the young markswoman.”
“Well, whatever my uncle told you, it’s pretty much the same. I’m 25, just graduated with my masters, and I happen to have very good aim. Grew up in Queens with my mom and younger brother,” you shared.
“Look at you! A whole degree!” Tony congratulated, “It’s a good thing Barton didn’t immediately put you into SHIELD as I first intended.”
“Believe me, it was a tug and pull,” you said.
And you were right. Your skills kept getting better in high school, and you remembered how badly Tony Stark wanted to recruit you. You were to be the next protege, and quite frankly you didn’t want any of that.
You remember clearly when Stark came to visit you during your senior year of high school and you flat out told him: “Listen, I’m a teenager. I’m very self-centered right now. I’m only 17, and the biggest issue in my life right now is whether or not I can afford to apply to my dream school. I’m tryna go to college. And maybe have a boyfriend, who knows. Point is: I’m not ready to be recruited.”
That explanation definitely shook your entire family, and Stark knew that you were S.H.I.E.L.D material, but understood your different passions. It was a very mature thing for you to say, and he was impressed. You vaguely remember telling him “I won’t let these skills go to waste. I’ll give you a call when I’m ready.”
And ready you are now. Granted, you would rather work on your non-profit to train kids to become S.H.I.E.L.D recruits, but you knew Stark would be more than happy to give you advice on how to successfully pull it off.
“Well, I’m overjoyed you joined our team,” Tony thanked profusely, “Your talent is amazing.”
“Anything my Uncle do, I can do ten times better,” you added.
“I won’t complain about that,” Clint said as he ruffled your hair.
“Are you ready to meet the rest of the team, Y/N?” Tony asked as you walked towards the door of the common area.
“I think so?” you hesitated, “Hey, uh, Stark? Is it okay that you don’t let the team know that I’m like, part assassin, part scary graduate.”
“Keepin’ it humble, I respect that,” Tony chuckled.
“Thanks, Tony,” you smiled, a small plan brewing inside you. Your uncle already knew of it, and when you guys made eye contact, he gave you a thumbs up.
“So how do you want to be introduced: intern? Assistant? Your Uncle’s dietitian, which by the way, he needs one.” Tony proposed.
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” your uncle scoffed.
“How about, shy intern training to become full time at the compound?” you offered as the three of you faced the door.
“Perfection,” Tony simply said, “Now, it’s showtime!”
Tony does his signature grand entrance and simply extends his arm out, earning one single applause from your uncle. It was very fitting.
“Everyone,” Tony Stark started, “I’m sure you’re all familiar with Old Man Hawkeye. Well now, I present to you his niece!”
You slowly emerged from behind your uncle and shyly waved to the team, “Hey guys, my name is Y/N, and I just started my internship here.”
“Y/N is an absolute smarty pants I tell you,” Tony began once again, “she has a Master’s degree!”
Claps and cheers erupted with the team. Steve was the first to speak, “Well, I’m personally very proud of your accomplishments, hopefully, after your time here, you’ll consider staying here for the long run.”
You just smiled, you couldn’t believe that the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan was proud of you.
One by one, the Avengers went up to you greeted you individually. You were most excited to grow your friendship with Wanda and Nat, seeing was you three were clearly outnumbered.
“We gotta stick together the three of us,” Natasha commented, “It ain’t safe here.”
“It just reeks of testosterone,” Wanda added, “you’ve become mine and Nat’s blessing.:
Thor was super happy to meet you as well, as he now has a new opponent to challenge in drinking, to which you responded with “you’d be surprised at how much I can take, Mr. Lord of Thunder.”
Both Sam and Rhodey were very appreciative of you, and couldn’t wait to discuss anything and everything. Sam more about if you’re the prankster type, and Rhodey more on the topics of bad scary movies (this week’s choice: Jaws.)
Banner was super excited that there’s another person with a passion for the sciences and social work, and you knew you’d hang out in the labs a lot. Vision was just grateful that there was another person to add more inside jokes.
And then there was Bucky. Naturally, he was the last one to greet, but that didn’t stop you from sweating your balls out. You admired him greatly.
All he did was give you a handshake, flashed an adorable smile, and simply said: “Welcome to the team, Y/N, the name’s Bucky.”
You croaked a small thanks, and shuffle next to your uncle, trying to hide your face, ears turning pink from embarrassment. You couldn’t deny that Bucky was an attractive fellow. It would be like denying that the Sun is bright.
“It’s those eyes, I’m telling you,” your uncle said to no one in particular, “Stark, I really don’t know how you do it.”
“That’s what you got from a handshake between him and your niece?” Stark asked.
“Like I said, I’m cool and hip.”
You and Bucky just glanced and quickly smiled at each other before staring at the ground.
You could sense Bucky was gonna warm up to you soon.
。。
6 Months Later
Your ‘internship’ was better than anything you’ve ever asked for. Sure, no one knows that you can take someone down that’s double your size with a measly flip, but you showed your strength and ingenuity elsewhere.
You got to sit down during briefings, work alongside Stark to innovate tech, and even got to observe Hill and Fury as directors. All this information was more than you’d ever accumulate during your all-nighters in college.
You still trained with your uncle, but this was where it got tricky (but not like the Run-D.M.C. song, though). Certain supersoldiers were night owls, and others liked to wake up at the ass crack of dawn for their dumb run. This is definitely not college.
So what you and your uncle would do is go to the gym that was at the very other end at the compound immediately after breakfast. People knew there were offices in that general vicinity, so no one questions it.
You remember Bucky once asked what you’d do on ‘the other side’ and you would just reply, “lame intern stuff, filing, and organizing.”
He has bought it, but it just gets harder to hide this not so obvious secret. He knows you sometimes hit the gym because he knows you’ll “practically melt” if you were to step foot in one.
And he knows weird tidbits like your favorite spot to people watch, your favorite campus cafe, and what cat you would like to have as a pet (a black one, because they remind of a time when you wanted to be a witch).
Sometimes you’d be a night owl with Bucky and join him in the common area and you guys would just talk. And soon after, you guys became really close. Nothing was hidden from each other, and it was nice to confide in someone.
You were still shy around everyone else (minus the gals), and people knew you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Bucky would specifically notice all the details that he enjoys about you. You’d do the same, only you tried to conceal any indication that you liked Bucky.
Your uncle would notice it too. “You know, one of these days he’s gonna catch you slipping. I’ve heard him ask for you around the same time you come train with me,” He mumbled, sipping some tea out of his mug. Mornings like these were the best: tea time with your uncle.
“Is this in relation to our feelings for each other or the fact that I can probably beat up Bucky?”
“Hmm, either work. So you do like him, eh??” Clint chuckled.
“Great,” you huffed, “another person knows.”
“I’m telling you, it’s his eyes,” Clint commented, “no one has eyes as beautiful as his.”
“... Don’t you have blue eyes??”
“Yes. But the point is, you gotta reveal your skills now,” your uncle added.
“What if he thinks I’m weird?” you whined. Your uncle just stared at you and continued drinking his tea.
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Clint consoled. Both of you heard some footsteps coming from the hallway, and saw a freshly showered Bucky emerge.
“Speaking of the Dreamboat,” Clint said, “Bucky!”
“Good morning to you too, Clint,” Bucky smiled, “you’re in good spirits today.”
“That’s because Y/N has to tell you something life-changing,” Clint gasped, winking at you to see if you got the idea. He quickly scurried towards the gym and left it at that.
“Goddamnit uncle,” you mumbled, a laugh escaping from Bucky. Your cheeks flushed red as you lowkey checked him out.
“So, what’s this ‘life-changing’ statement of yours, sugar,” Bucky inquired, his nickname for you throwing you off.
“I, uh, um,” you stuttered, “well, I was thinking about, um, maybe training under someone. And, uh, I know we’ve, um gotten closer.” Bucky nodded in agreement.
“So canyoupleasetrainmeorsomething,” you quickly got out, your breath nearly turning into a heave.
Bucky looked at you with genuine happiness, “I’d love to, y/n. When did you want to start?”
You saw the clock: 9:35 AM.
Usually, you’d start at 10, so for him to see your stunts, he’d have to come slightly later.
“How’s 10:30 sound? I took into account the time it takes for me to get ready and my complaining.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Bucky stated, winking when he said, “I’ll see you soon.”
You blushed once again and waved goodbye to him. Quickly you sent a text to Tony and Clint saying to gather towards the gym and to bring anyone that was free.
Bless Bucky’s heart. He didn’t know what was in store for him.
。。
9:50 am
The gym was quiet, as usual, with the exception of another agent running on the elliptical. You had changed quickly and briskly walked towards your uncle.
“No one’s here yet,” Clint observed, “Do they even know we have another gym?”
“Don’t worry I told Bucky to come at 10:30, and everyone else at 10:15, so we can warm up and give a real show,” you beamed.
“Well, it’s almost time, let’s just work out like a normal day,” Clint said.
“Aye aye, Hawkeye,” you saluted, mentally congratulating yourself that you came up with that on the spot.
。。
10:25 am
Sweat had been going down your spine, and you weren’t tuckered out yet.
One by one the team came walking in to observe what was going on, and so far, they were really impressed.
The first half-hour was you and Clint basically doing a mix of sparring, some agility tests, and a bit of archery. You didn’t want to show off just yet, but you’d throw a couple of tricks here and there.
Tony commented something about the “Manchurian Candidate walking towards the gym,” so everyone scrambled to make themselves look occupied, while also observing the scene was about to unfold.
You then looked to Clint and simply said, “Knives?”
“Knives,” your uncle responded.
And with the same agility you had before, you walked towards the indoor range to the side and picked your favorite knife. You quickly saw the clock read 10:28 so you decided to just go with the flow.
As if on cue, Bucky walked in greeting Steve, and then set his eyes on you. You hadn’t heard him walking into the room, and you just went ham on the knives.
Each target that would light up, you’d throw your knife and hit it in the dead center. The sound of the knives hitting the target would be unsettling to some, but it was just background noise to you now.
You then grabbed a bow and arrow and decided to hit the furthest target that you could see, which was a good 20 feet away. And just like with the knives, you’d hit the bullseye.
Your uncle decided to spar once more, but this time you were put up against an agent, John. John would train with you sometimes, and he offered to take part in the show today.
You started throwing punches, and John did not hesitate to strike back. It went like that for about 5 more minutes until you saw John struggling a bit. You did your classic flip maneuver and took him down. You and John started laughing, and your uncle came over to give you a high five.
You turn towards your audience and received some hoots and hollers. All but from one person.
To say Bucky looked mortified was an understatement. Here was a soft and reserved girl who wouldn’t hurt a single soul, throwing knives at targets and taking down a big guy.
Everyone had left the gym, and Bucky kept his mouth agape.
“Bucky, sweetie, you’re gonna catch flies,” you commented as you reached for his cheek and closed his mouth, “you seem, distant. Is everything okay?”
Bucky blinked, then spoke: “Did you learn that in a day??”
You laughed, “More like in 18 years, Buck.”
“Years?!” Bucky almost screamed.
“Yeah, my uncle has been training me since I was a kid. I like this stuff, it’s really fun and exhilarating,” you said nonchalantly, “Tony made me a SHIELD agent about six months ago.”
Bucky just had an incredulous look on his face. He really didn’t know what to think.
“It just… looked so cool.” Bucky whispered, “why didn’t you tell me earlier??”
It was your turn to not say anything, “I thought you were gonna think I’m weird, or like an overachiever like Steve.”
“Doll, do you know who I am?” Bucky asked as he stepped closer towards you, “I wouldn’t judge you for anything, and you know that.”
He pulled you into a hug, his chin resting on top of your head, “and, quite frankly you looked really hot while doing it.”
“Even when I put John in a chokehold?”
“That was the best part.”
Bucky let go of you slightly and simply looked at you with that longing feeling in those rom-com movies. You know which ones.
You decided to take it upon yourself and close the gap once more and kissed Bucky on the lips. He was a bit startled at first but soon caught on. Hands on your waist, he pulled you as close as humanly possible, and your hands immediately wrapped around his neck.
The two of you pulled away, breathing heavily. You sighed in content and simply said, “Everyone was right, your eyes really are dreamy.”
“Why not look at them all night when we go on a date later today?” Bucky said with confidence in his voice.
You smiled once more and quickly kissed Bucky on the cheek, “I’d love that, Buck.”
The sound of the door slamming open pulled the two of you out of a trance.
“Stark! You owe me twenty!” your uncle hollered as he motioned for the two of you to leave the gym.
You groaned. “I’m gonna internally combust, Uncle Clint.”
“Not before you stare at Bucky’s eyes again. Now get out of here, lovebirds. I’m trying to work out,” Clint grumbled.
Bucky grabbed a hold of your hand, walking with so much glee.
You looked outside the window and saw agents doing yoga.
“Hey, Buck?”
“Yes, y/n?”
“Let’s go do some yoga,” you offered. It was the first thing you saw when you got here, and now you get to share that activity with someone you cared about. Bucky nodded in agreement and you guys walked outside, holding hands, basking in the sunlight and the birds chirping.
。。
Hope you enjoyed! :)
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ruby-dear · 4 years ago
Note
all of them except 77, 78, 81, 92 and 96
Ember, I know this was you. I’m doing it, but that’s 93 questions you’re asking for so they’re going under a cut. 
1. Talk about your first love. There have been a lot of those, so let me talk about the first one I really remember. I was in eighth grade, at the time, and she wasn’t exactly a great person looking back but she was cool and confident and she liked me, and she called me her best friend, and probably the best school-related memory I’ve ever had was her tackle-hugging me from across a classroom. I didn’t even realize I liked girls until she’d pretty much left my life completely. Maybe I’m looking at it through rose-tinted glasses now, but I think that’s okay, sometimes.  2. What’s the most beautiful songs you’ve ever heard in your opinion? Most of my favorite songs are Owl City, especially the older stuff. It has a soft, dreamlike vibe to it that I find really pretty even when it’s depressing. 3. How’s your heart feeling right now? Pretty good, I think? 4. What kind of self care is your favorite to do? The fun stuff. Bath bombs, makeup, fancy shampoo. Retail therapy actually works pretty well for me, even if a lot of the time I don’t even buy anything. 5. What’s your skincare routine? Um... Shower? 6. How did you get to be so beautiful? Natural talent and carefully learned confidence. 7. Do you have any stuffed animals? Oh, do I. I have like, seventy Webkinz, and that’s without getting into anything else. You could say I collect plushes, even if I don’t do it as actively now. I have a couple of Eevee plushes, too - I’d say I want to own all of them one day, but I’m like, 95% sure that’s not possible. 8. Best trip you’ve ever been on? Once, we went to Prince Edward Island for a week, and my mom surprised me by meeting up with my best friend’s family, who happened to have gotten a room at our hotel for one night. I think that probably wins. 9. Favorite thing about your room? That it’s starting to look like it belongs to me, even if I want to move somewhere else. 10. Opinion on love? It takes work, but it’s worth it.
11. Are you affectionate? Around people I’m comfortable with, definitely. 12. Who do you look up to? The people who have enough confidence to be unapologetically be themselves.
13. Favorite poet? Robert Frost. When I was eleven, I found a book of his poems, and I loved that book so much I didn’t pay any attention in English class at all.
14. Song that makes you happy? How about one that calms you down when you’re in a bad place? There’s a lot of songs that make me happy. Hard to go wrong with the Pokemon theme, though. As for things that calm me down... It’s Alright by Mother Mother and Misguided Ghosts by Paramore have both got me through a lot.
15. Do you play an instrument? No. I was supposed to learn piano in seventh grade, but I couldn’t read the sheet music so they never let me play, and I tried to learn guitar multiple times but it never stuck for the same reason.
16. Do you do art? Using what (pencil, watercolor, etc)? I paint, though not as often as I’d like to! Using acrylics, usually, but watercolors sometimes.
17. Do you dance? What style of dance? I took ballet as a child, til they kicked me out of class, and I still enjoy dancing but I don’t remember any of what I learned.
18. What’s your zodiac sign? Do you believe in astrology? Gemini. I think it might have some kind of truth behind it, but I’m not really one of those all-or-nothing people. It’s just for fun, you know?
19. Favorite old film? I don’t watch a lot of them. Does The Aristocats count?
20. What’s your hairstyle? It’s long and wavy. I’m getting blue highlights soon.
21. What weather is the most beautiful, in your opinion? Light rain. The kind that dries off before you get inside, when the sky is perfectly clear, but it starts falling anyway and it stops just as quickly.
22. What upsets you most about the world? That however hard we try to fix it, we’re unlikely to get very far.
23. Are you in love right now? Yes. At least, I think so.
24. Do you have a crush? If so, talk about them! I have a girlfriend. Is that the same thing? She’s cute and funny and she thinks the same things about me for some reason, and she knows exactly how much of a disaster I can be and hasn’t run away yet.
25. Do you have pets? Talk about something sweet about them! I have a cat, Little Prince. His sister died about a month ago, and she was the one who usually kept me company (total lap-cat), but ever since he’s usually either close to where I am or comes when I call him over.
26. Do you have a lucky number? Any multiple of seven, but especially fourteen. They’re my favorite numbers for the same reason.
27. Have you ever wished on a star? What about on a fallen eyelash? I try to wish on stars, when I see them. Eyelashes I’m usually more annoyed about than anything.
28. Do you believe emoji spells to work? I think anything has the potential to work, given the right amount of effort and intent. That said, I don’t think you’re going to accomplish anything drastic.
29. Do you believe in magic in general? Oh, definitely. Just look at the world we live in. How can you not believe in magic when it’s all around you? The night sky without air pollution, the sunlight dancing on the water, candy cane white hot chocolate - it’s everywhere, in everything.
30. What’s the most beautiful thing in life, In your opinion? Everything. There’s something beautiful in everything, if you look for it. Today, let’s say the feeling of sliding around on a hardwood floor in fluffy socks, dancing along to one of your favorite songs.
31. Opinion on the color pink? What about baby blue? As a kid, I hated pink. I like it now, though. Blue is my color, light blue especially (particularly with star patterns), so I’ve always liked it.
32. What instrumental sound is your favorite? Am I alloawed to say wind chimes? I’ve always thought they sounded super pretty.
33. Do you like the sound of wind? What about the sound of rain? I love them both.
34.Who makes you happy? My friends. All of them, in different ways, the people who are still in my life for various reasons. I love them.
35. What makes you happy? Light rain, strong wind, good music. My cat’s soft meow when I wake him up by accident. White peppermint hot chocolate. Fall colors, string lights, Halloween and winter holidays. Ice and snow and skating, dressing up for no apparent reason. The trick to it all is finding new things every day.
36. Imagine your ideal life, the life you wish to make, what will that look like? A house big enough for a family. A degree of some kind hanging on the wall. A life where I’m making things because that’s what I love, and I can try new things just for fun, where I don’t have to worry about money so much. The chance to get married someday, maybe.
37. Do you wear makeup? If so what’s your favorite type of makeup or specific makeup product? Favorite store to buy makeup? I do! Unless someone else is doing it for me, I generally keep to lipstick and eyeshadow. I’ve never been especially picky about what brands I use, but I usually go to Nyx because it’s on my usual route when I go on shopping trips, and I’m kind of attached now. Plus, nowhere else I’ve been in person has as many bold colours.
38. Do you wear dresses? If so what’s your favorite dress you own? I like wearing dresses. My favorite that I still have is a longer black dress, and it’s in serious need of either repair of retirement, but I got it for $20 as a cosplay outfit last year and it served its purpose. I wear it around still, sometimes, because it’s generally an easy fix.
39. Ever been heartbroken? How do you deal with it? Yeah, a few times. I vent to my friends, usually, and then I eat ice cream and listen to gnash for a while and eventually I start to feel better.
40. Who’s your closest friend? What do you love about them?
41. Introvert or extrovert? Kinda both? It’s complicated.
42. Do you like MBTI? What’s your MBTI? Is that... Fuck, is that the one with the letters? I think I got ENFP last time, and when I was younger it was INFP.
43. Would you be a fairy, a mermaid, a vampire, a siren, a or an angel? I’ve had people tell me I have ‘fae vibes’ before, so let’s go with that and hope it’s not offensive.
44. What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you? I don’t remember enough of them to feel good about picking one. I basically only listen to music I’m recommended now.
45. Parlez-vous français? A little, by virtue of being Canadian and having driven through Quebec. Not enough to carry on a conversation.
46. Most beautiful place you’ve been to? Prince Edward Island, hands down. It’s gorgeous.
47. Where/when do you truly feel at home? When there’s a light breeze, and the perfect song is playing, and the people I love are there. When we’re laughing with each other.
48. Does smiling put you in a better mood? Try it right now, you’re smile is gorgeous! I don’t think it does, honestly? But it does tend to happen when I’m happy.
49. Favorite shoe you own? These ankle boots I got secondhand that have little metal stars on them. I’m gonna be so upset when they finally wear out and I need new ones.
50. Can you walk in stilettos? Do you like them? God, no, I’ve tried. Any heel that’s too sharp or pointy or tall is a major problem for me. It’s part of what makes finding shoes such a pain.
51. Do you feel loved? Not always, but yeah. When I remember, or when I ask, or when I’m reminded.
52. How do you express love to those you care about? I try to tell them, but I’m also the type to engage in constant teasing. I’m the friend that punches you in the arm as a show of affection.
53. Favorite term(s) of endearment? The more creative ones. The basics don’t do much for me, honestly, but it’s more about the person saying them anyway.
54. Most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you? Make me feel like I don’t have to try so hard to feel like myself.
55. When is the happiest you’ve ever been? Walking the downtown city streets in winter. It was cold, sure, but it was gorgeous and I finally felt independent for a while.
56. Are you happy right now? Yeah, I’d say so.
57. What makes you smile? Bad jokes, among other things.
58. Do you laugh a lot? Yeah. A lot more than I used to.
59. What’s your favorite kind of aesthetic? Punk/scenecore. They’ve really influenced my more recent style choices.
60. Do you want to marry for love or for some other reason (like money)? Love, definitely.
61. What would your dream wedding look like? Do you want to get married? With someone I love, and the other people I love there too. Somewhere beautiful. I think I do, someday, but it’s not something I’m so worried about.
62. Favorite flower? Roses. Blue Moon Hybrid Tea Roses, in particular, are especially pretty.
63. Favorite artist? I don’t really have one. I do enjoy looking at art, though.
64. Favorite music artist? Owl City.
65. How kind do you think you are? Is kindness important to you? I don’t know. People seem to think I’m kinder than I believe I am. It’s important to me, yeah, to try and help people and to do nice things.
66. Ever made a playlist for someone? A few times. They were never anything special, as far as I’m concerned.
67. Do you have anything you do to physically comfort you when your sad? Such as a favorite blanket? Or a relaxing bath? Long, warm baths and cuddling with my cat. Warm blankets and stories with happy endings.
68. Early bird or night owl? Night owl. I’m a night person.
69. Morning routine? Wake up, do nothing for a while, actually get out of bed and figure out breakfast. While that’s going on, try and figure out if anything important is happening today.
70. Night routine? Get comfortable, then write or daydream til I fall asleep.
71. What is the most lovely quality a person could have in your opinion? Self-confidence and a willingness to help others.
72. Do you cry often? Does crying help you get the emotions out? Do you feel better after? I tend to hold back my feelings til they all fall out. So I end up crying at least twice a month, usually. It helps, yeah.
73. Do you like hugs? From people I feel comfortable with.
74. When was the last time you kissed someone? On the lips? Never.
75. Are you small or tall? Small. I’m 5′0.
76. Do you like wholesome memes? Yes. They’re cute.
79. Have you ever lived in a different country than you currently live in? Nope. I’ve never lived outside this city, only been on trips.
80. Do you like plane flights? Airports? I’ve only flown once, and I was two, so I don’t remember it very well.
82. The beach or a forest? Sand or bugs? Depends on the day. Today, though, forest.
83. What time of day do you tend to be in the best mood? Evening, usually.
84. Do you push yourself to act together and in a good mood even when you aren’t? Yeah, when I’m stressed.
85. Favorite kind of tree? Either maple or pine. I’m Canadian, what can I say?
86. Do you care about the health of the Earth? Yes, but there’s only so much one person can do.
87. What did you like most about your childhood, if anything? Field trips. Adulthood is sorely lacking in field trips.
88. Do you read a lot? What’s your favorite book? I used to. These days I still read, but it’s mostly fanfiction. My favorite books, though, are Tamora Pierce’s Emelan series and the first two books of Kenneth Oppel’s Silverwing trilogy.
89. What are you most nostalgic for at the moment? Trick-or-treating.
90. What’s your favorite personality trait you have? I try to let the people I love know that I love them.
91. List at least ONE thing you love about your appearance. I have pretty great hair.
93. Do you worry a lot? Constantly.
94. The dazzling lights of the city or the relaxing countryside? The city. The countryside’s nice, but the streetlights and the city skyline are what make me feel at home.
95. Ever changed the shoelaces on one of your shoes? For what reason? I actually don’t know how to tie laces, so no. I’ve never been able to pick it up. I might get someone sense to, if I could find cool enough laces.
97. Do you like doing little acts of kindness? Yeah. It feels good to make people happy, you know?
98. How’s your day/night going? Pretty good! I did just spend over an hour on this, but I finished it, so that’s an accomplishment of its own.
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horansqueen · 4 years ago
Text
Stuck With You - Chapter 25
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Chapter 25: The Only Exception
🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6   🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24
College Enemies To Lovers AU
characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board
And that was the day that I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist
But darling, you are the only exception You are the only exception You are the only exception You are the only exception
And up until now I had sworn to myself That I'm content with loneliness Because none of it was ever worth the risk
click here to be on the update list
NIALL
                                   The first hour of the ride was pretty silent. Devon kept playing with the buttons of the radio, switching channels and humming a few of the songs. I knew she was nervous but I also knew she wanted to be away from here. She had taken the time to get changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and she also took her make up off, and when she sent me a smile with her bags on her shoulders, I realized she was just as pretty than she was with a dress and red lipstick. We had also stopped by the art department to grab a few canvas and it made me wonder if she would let me watch her paint or if she'd lock herself in a room of my apartment.
"Are you ever gonna let me listen to one of the songs you wrote?" she finally asked after a while, taking me out of my thoughts.
I glanced at her and raised my eyebrows up in surprise before looking back at the road. "I don't know, I don't usually do that." I admitted, not sure if it was a good idea. "Why would you like to hear?"
She shrugged a shoulder and looking down at her hands as she played nervously with her fingers. I didn't know why my question stressed her but now I was even more interested in the answer.
"You saw one of my paintings, so it would be fair." she just pointed out without really answering. "I heard you were really good at that, too."
"Who said that? Louis?" I raised my eyebrows again with a chuckle. "It doesn't count, he's always rooting for me."
"Him and others." she quickly replied, looking up. "You're not so modest normally."
I turned my head to her again, noticing she was sending me a cheeky half-smile and I chuckled.
"I didn't say he was not right." I corrected her with a smirk.
This time, she started laughing and I joined her but when she stopped, she turned her head my way and leaned it again the bench. I wanted to stop on the side of the road to look at her too. I wanted to just stare at her for hours and I couldn't wait to arrive at our destination.
"Louis really loves you, you know." she expressed in a low tone with emotions. "Whenever he talks about you, it's with kindness and love in his voice. And also regrets and guilt."
I didn't expect her to go there but my smile fell and I breathed in before sighing.
"I know."
"I know why you're mad at him and, honestly, what he did was horrible, especially for a friend. But I want you to know he's sincere when he says he's sorry and he regrets what he did." she continued before licking her lips. "He didn't ask me to talk to you, by the way. And-And.. you obviously don't have to forgive him, but I wanted you to know that."
It took me a while to answer. I tried to keep track of the emotions it brought in me but I was not sure how I felt. I wanted to make Devon happy and tell her that Louis and I were okay, but I knew it was because she was the one asking me. I didn't know how I felt about Louis. I still considered him one of my best friends, and I couldn't pretend that he hadn't been an amazing friend to me in the past few years. On the other hand, it didn't erase the pain inside me. I didn't have feelings for my ex girlfriend anymore, but he had still hurt me, and I didn't know how I could really trust him again. Maybe it would take time, maybe it would never go back to the way it was, I didn't know and I didn't want to force myself to anything.
"I thought she was the love of my life, you know." I explained slowly after a few minutes of silence. "And he knew that, and he slept with her anyway. I know he was drunk, I know she insisted... but it doesn't change anything. My trust is shaken. They both made me suspicious of everyone. I was not even a jealous person and now I can barely control it. It fucked me up in more ways than I thought it would."
I couldn't remember the last time I had opened up to someone like that but I was glad it was with her. Perhaps I did that unconciously because I had feeling for her, or maybe it was because I knew she could understand how I felt. Either way, the fond smile she sent me made my heart twist and I sent it back.
"I'm pretty fucked up myself." she chuckled, turning her head back and tilting her chin up with a sigh. "I can't blame you."
Silence came back between us but it was not heavy. In fact, it was light and knowing, as if we understood each other and we accepted each other the way we were without question. I enjoyed this atmosphere and I realized I had never felt like that with anyone else in my life.
"I knew he was not the love of my life." Devon replied, bringing one of her feet on the bench to lean her cheek on her knee. "Deep down I even knew he didn't really love me. But I didn't want to face it. I wanted to keep pretending I was special for him. I just wanted to feel special for someone. I want someone who wants me, who thinks I'm pretty, who genuinely love me. I know it's not happening but I wanted to dream. I know what people see when they look at me."
"What do you think people see when they look at you?"
She was not answering and I dared turning to look at her. My heart broke when I saw tears coming out of her eyes and she sniffed before closing them. "A below average girl. Someone who's not physically attractive and most people stop there. And the very few who actually give me a chance? They see a broken person with no self-esteem, a naive girl who was so in need of affection that she let a man play with her and now she's can't get over it. Tell me, Niall, who the fuck would want to start something with someone like that?"
I saw my apartment appear on the road and I remained silent until I was parked. We both remained silent and motionless, sitting in my car. I knew I should have replied 'me', because it was true. I should have told her that I would want to start something with her if she gave me a chance, but I felt like saying that would be the equivalent to tell her that I was the only one who could ever be interested in her, and it was not true.
"Can you help me with my bags?" she asked, wiping her eyes quickly without looking at me.
She reached for the handle and opened the door slightly when I grabbed her free wrist.
"Devie." she stopped but it took her a few seconds to turn her head and look in my eyes. "Many people, trust me."
---
"The guest room is on your left." I pointed out when we walked in.
She walked slowly inside, her eyes moving everywhere in my living room. She turned slowly on herself to make sure she saw everything and it made me chuckle. She finally got out of her thoughts and blinked a few times before frowning.
"The-The guest room?" her face changed and she cleared her throat. "Oh you have a guest room."
"Yea," I chuckled again. "You didn't think I'd let you sleep on the couch, did you?"
I helped her bring her stuff to the room but she kept quiet the whole time and when I finally grabbed my phone to order, I noticed she was sitting in front of my piano. I joined her, sitting next to her on the small bench, and started playing an old song of mine but decided not to sing.
"It's pretty." she just pointed out, letting her fingertips slip on the keys without making any sound.
"I wrote it about Abby a few years ago." I admitted, staring at her fingers. "The lyrics don't mean anything anymore but back then, I really felt them."
"If you want to sing me a song you wrote, I think you should sing one that's not about her."
I turned my head slightly to look at her but she was too focused on her own fingers on the piano to notice. I wanted to tell her that I would sing a song about her instead but I didn't want things to be awkward with her after only an hour at my apartment.
"Good idea."
We decided to eat pizza while watching a movie and I told myself I'd need to go grocery shopping the next day to make sure we wouldn't have to order every single meal we'd eat. The movie was funny and every time she laughed, I'd turn my head to look at her. It was crazy how much better she seemed to be now that we were away from school and her bad memories. I ended up making tea and we sat at the kitchen's table to drink it while looking by the window in silence. I didn't know silence could be so comfortable with someone. I was used to be by myself and I liked it that way, but when Devon was there, it was like being alone but better. I didn't know how to explain it but I knew I'd need to write a song about it.
"Why did you bring me here, Niall?" she finally asked after half an hour of comfortable silence.
I turned to her and she was already looking at me. "You asked me to take you as far away as possible and this is the first place that came to my mind." I admitted, shrugging a shoulder.
She didn't say anything and we kept quiet for an other few minutes.
"Niall, I don't-" she stopped herself and sighed, closing her eyes. "Niall, I don't want to sleep in your guest room. I would prefer to be in your room, with you."
It took me by surprise but it also made my heart jump high in my chest and my whole body started throbbing. We had never really slept in the same bed, not for more than a few minutes, and It never even crossed my mind that she would want to share a bed with me.
"I'm scared to wake up and panic if I'm alone." she added when she realized I wasn’t answering.
"What did you do when you lived with Lewis?" I asked gently.
"Most of the time I fell asleep in the living room. When he realized what I was doing, he fell asleep with me on the other couch so when I woke up he was there. Or sometimes, I'd invite Louis over." she explained while looking down. It seemed like she was ashamed of it and I was not sure why. "It's okay if you don't want to."
"No, it's okay, you can sleep with me in my bed, it's big enough."
She looked up and her eyes met mine as a small smile appeared on her lips. Why did she make me feel like that? Why did everything she did make me feel like a teenager in love? A kid who couldn't control his feelings and his hormones?
"Can I take a shower?"
I leaned against the door the whole time she took a shower, my eyes closed, wondering what she was doing exactly, how she was feeling... Somehow, I could feel that her mind was still on Henry and Cammy who had both betrayed her but selfishly, I hoped she was also thinking about me. When the shower stopped, I sighed and walked to my room, ready to take her place. I told her I would be quick and when I walked back into my room, she was laying on my bed, under the covers. I normally only sleep in my boxers but I put a t-shirt this time, just to make sure she was not uncomfortable. I kept the lights on and lied down next to her in silence for a while. It was not awkward but for some odd reason, my heart was beating harder and faster than usual. It was ridiculous. I was in bed with a girl I had feelings for, something I thought would never happen again, and I was scared of what could happen between us.
"How do you feel?" I finally asked, turning my body completely her way.
"I don't know. I thought I was healed but I guess it takes time." she admitted low. "I feel.. I feel worthless."
"They don't decide of your value." I pointed out in a whisper. "You're a million times better than them. You're special, Devie. You just can't see it."
"You don't have to say these things, Niall." she murmured, licking her lips before glancing at mine. "It's not your job to make me feel better about myself."
"I'm not just saying it, okay? I mean it." I insisted gently just as low. "Devie, you're anything but average."
"I'm below that."
"No, you're not." I quickly argued, bringing my hand to her cheek and running my thumb slowly on her face. "So you got your heart broken and it fucking hurts, I know. Someone played with your feelings and it's horrible, I know that feeling. But you? You as a person, you as a woman... you are not to blame. And it doesn't make you worthless. It just makes them assholes."
She swallowed hard and I saw her tear up as my heart kept thumping hard in my chest.
"Why are you so nice to me?" she breathed but I could still hear her voice crack slightly. "I thought you hated me."
"I never hated you. Not a second."
I felt a sudden rush invade my whole body as I admitted that to her. She blinked a few times and I brought my face closer to hers, pressing my lips against hers as my body started throbbing hard. I could feel her vibrate near me and I couldn't push the thought away, the one that told me she felt for me exactly the way I did for her.
"Why are you doing that, Niall?" she asked against my mouth, her lips brushing against mine.
"I just want to make you feel better." I explained, my eyes never leaving hers.
"How?"
I stared at her for a minute or two and she did the same. So many things came to my mind but I swallowed most words I wanted to let out. I had many ideas but I was not sure it would really make her feel better or if it would make me feel good. Was I doing that for myself? I wanted it to be exclusively about her, if only to show her I meant every word I had told her.
"When's the last time you had someone between your legs?"
Her face changed into surprise and something else I couldn't decipher. Was it lust? She squirmed slightly in bed and I could swear she had squeezed her thighs together but I didn't dare looking. I just let my eyes roam on her face from up close, waiting for her answer.
"I don't... I don't know." she confessed, licking her lips. "Henry was not so much into that."
"Henry is a fucking loser."
Silence invaded the room once again. It was pure torture waiting for her decision but at the same time, It gave me time to just stare at her the way I wanted to do it back when I was driving. She had a little scar barely visible near her mouth and I couldn't believe I had never noticed before.
"Nothing will have changed tomorrow morning, you know?" she pointed out with a small frown. "I will still be against love and romantic relationships."
"I know."
I couldn't say I didn't expect it but it still hurt me a bit. I knew it would take time and I was not even sure she would ever give me an other chance, but it didn't make me change my mind. I would still wait for her because there was no one I was ready to be with anyway, no one else I wanted or cared for.
"I just want to make you feel good."
She nodded so lightly I barely saw but I was suddenly impatient to taste her. I wanted to slip my hand in her sweatpants and touch her but that's not what I had mentioned and slowly, I brought my hand under the sheets, pulling gently on her pants. She moved her butt up and helped me until her pants fell in a light thud on the floor. Knowing she was naked from the waist down laying right next to me was exciting but I tried to focus on what I was about to do instead of all the other thoughts rushing to my brain.
I slid down before disappearing under the sheets and was glad that I had left the lights on, making it possible to see what I was doing through the white sheets of my bed. She brought her knees up, placing her feet flat on the mattress and exposing her pussy to me. I muttered a low 'fuck', barely believing what was happening and what I was lucky enough to see. I licked my lips without thinking at the sight of her inner thighs and breathed in, trying to bring my heartbeats back to normal.
Slowly, I ran two fingers on her slit and she tensed a bit before relaxing again. It was my cue to bring my mouth closer and press my tongue on her clit.
"Oh. Fuck." she let out, grinding a bit my way.
I stopped what I was doing and brought my mouth to her left thigh, sometimes leaving a trail of small kisses on it, sometimes brushing my lips against her skin before doing the same with the right one. I felt her squirm a bit and she seemed impatient but I didn't want to go too fast, especially if she hadn't had someone between her legs in a long time. I ran my tongue on one of her lips slowly, tilting my head slightly to suck on it gently and finally pushed my tongue inside her.
"Oh my.. god."
I started going slowly, moving my tongue in and out of her, and the faster I went, the more her hips met with my movements. She tasted amazing, the bitter-sweet flavor reaching my buds and making me slightly dizzy. She started whimpering and let out a few curse words but it's only when she moaned my name that I realized how hard I was.
"Fuck, Niall." her voice was low, in a mix of a whisper and a whimper, and my hard cock started throbbing against the mattress. I couldn't let that distract me and i brought my mouth to her clit, alternating between sucking it and flicking my tongue on it until I felt her squirm more.
She pushed the covers off my head and I pressed my cock harder on the bed, grinding a bit as I noticed she had moved her shirt up and was running one of her hands on her breasts. It reminded me of that time in the elevator when I had barely touched her and I just wanted to move back up to touch them. I fought against that urge and her free hand slipped in my hair, gripping it tightly and holding me down on her.
"Niall, please don't stop I'm gonna cum."
Her words brought a rush to my brain and I sucked harder, rubbing myself against the mattress at the same time as both my hands gripping her thighs tight, my fingers sinking in her skin. Her eyes were closed, her back was arching, and I knew it was a matter of seconds before I would see her cum.
"Fuck fuck fuck..." she let out and suddenly stopped moving.
He lips parted and an expression of intense pleasure appeared on her face as I kept going, trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible. She started shaking against me and I felt her gush on my lips and chin, almost bringing me to my own orgasm. It took a bit longer than I thought before her body relaxed and her grip in my hair loosened but when she did, her knees fell on the sides and she let out a satisfied whimper, making me smile against her pussy. I kissed her clit and it gave her a spasm before I ran my tongue again but very slowly between her legs, gathering her orgasm to taste her some more. She played with my hair, her fingers slipping in it before she scratched my head gently. I moved back up very slowly on top of her, leaving kisses on her stomach and letting my eyes linger a bit on her tits before moving up to her face. I could feel how hard her nipples were against my chest and her eyes fluttered open to meet mine. She sent me a fond smile until it suddenly turned into an amused one.
"That turned you on?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as I realized she probably felt how hard I was between her legs.
It was crazy but I could swear I could still feel her pussy throb against me, but it was probably just the throbbing of my cock against it. She reached for my face gently, biting her bottom lip, and wiped the vestige of her orgasm on my chin.
"Do you want me to-"
"No, no." I cut her quickly, shaking my head but still looking in her eyes. "I just wanted to make you feel better."
Her smile fell and she studied me for a while, her eyes slightly smaller. I remained motionless, letting her look at me, and when she brought one of her hands on my back, I held my breath. Her fingertips ran under my shirt, up and down my spine, and I licked my lips.
"How was it?" I wondered, sending her a small smile. "Better than Bob?"
She chuckled and shook her head with a grin. "I don't know a Bob."
We both chuckled again and I waited for my brain to form a coherent but not too intense thought before talking again.
"How about we try something else tomorrow?"
Her smile faltered and she started nibbling on her bottom lip. I knew she was hesitating but I counted on her post-orgasm feeling to help her agree to my proposition. I had never felt closer than anyone else in general, but it was the same thing sexually, and even if I shouldn't be surprised that Devon and I connected on everything, sex included, I couldn't help but be amazed by it. Was that what it felt like to meet someone that was perfect for you? Could that be qualified as 'soulmates'?
"Yea, we should."
Her answer made my lips curl into a big smile despite myself and I chuckled again.
"I thought we were not the kind of friends who have sex?" I teased with a grin, making her smile too and shrug.
"What happens here, stays here."
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dasozelotvonnebenan · 4 years ago
Text
— OC QUESTIONS
everything for lorna so a lot of stuff
BASICS
1. What’s their full name?
Lorna Astriddottir.
2. What does their name mean? Why were they named that?
Her name doesn’t mean anything special. Just Lorna the daughter of Astrid. Regular norn stuff.
3. Do they have any nicknames?
Lorna von Kodash when she wants to sound a little more epic. She made that name up when she was a kid and didn’t even know where or what Kodash was. She read it somewhere and thought “well that sounds cool”
4. How old are they?
28 or so
5. When’s their birthday?
somewhere in winter, close after wintersday. She says she gets less presents because of that
6.What’s their zodiac sign/element/birthstone/etc.? Do they believe that holds any significance?
I don’t know much about that, so I’m gonna extend that to her and say she doesn’t really think about it.
7. What’s their species/subspecies? Do they have any special/magical abilities?
She’s a Norn, coming from a long line of Owl shamans. She thinks that is why she can’t transform, but its a little more complicated.
8. What “class” do they belong to (for fantasy characters)? If none, what weapon do they favor?
She’s a necromancer, mostly fighting with a big ass greatsword. And when I say bigass I mean it. The sword as a whole is about as tall as she is, so the blade is about 3 m long.
APPEARANCE
1. What do they look like?
Note how big that sword is? Lorna is 3 and a half metres tall (that’s 11′5′’). I hc norn to be taller than they are in game so they are a little more like giants so she isn’t astronomically taller than everyone but she is still very tall for a norn. She’s also buff as hell. She will stomp you and spit in your eyeeeeee.
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have a screen
2. Do they have a face claim?
no. though I think her face ingame is pretty accurate
3. What’s their style like? Clothes, hair, makeup?
She makes a point of casually wearing plate armor to show how strong she is. The rest of the time she wears her robes from the necromancy academy. Her hair is most often braided back, though she changes the pattern often. Makeup wise... excentric and playing off her tatoos.
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4. How do they carry themselves? What’s their default expression?
Lorna knows she is intimidating and she revels in the feeling. She’ll stand to her tallest, look expressionless into your eyes and watch you melt into a scared puddle under her gaze.
With friends she is a lot more relaxed though and actually laughs a lot. She still doesn’t smile much though.
5. Do they have any physical ailments or disabilities?
She sometimes accidentally turnes swearing into harmfull magic, but that’s mostly under controll now.
PERSONALITY
1.What’s their alignment?
Chaotic Good
2. Which one of the 16 Personality Types do they fit into?
No clue about those
3. What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)?
She does enjoy hunting, usually with daggers becaues if she uses her swords it’s an unfair fight for the boar. She plays DnD with her cousins when she is staying with them and is an excellent kegbrawl player. She does read sometimes, mostly bad romance novels. The more predictable the better.
4. What are they bad at?
Cooking that is more complicated that holding something over fire. She has in her life not once produced a meal that was properly seasoned and is not allowed near the salt box.
5. What kind of things do they dislike/hate?
Jokes about her height.
6. Do they have any vices/addictions/mental illnesses?
nope
7. What are their goals and motivations?
She wants to get into complete controll of her magic swearing, but other than that she doesn’t have any big goals in life.
8. What are their manners like? Any habits?
Theoretically she knows how to act well mannered. However she elects to be obnoxious because she knows people are too afraid to tell her off.
9. What are they most afraid of?
Being alone. As much as she plays the untouchable loner she values her friends greatly.
BACKGROUND
1. Where were they born? What was their childhood like?
Lorna was born in Hoelbrak, where her parents lived most of year. Her parents died when she was very little though, and she was raised by her uncles. She spent a lot of time with the Akis and Dak’s sisters.
2. What’s their family like?
Her parents were owl devotees, by tradition from her mothers side, and her father kind of picked it up because of her mother. They were very caring until they died. Her aunts and uncles are a wild bunch. The Akis are sibling grade cousins and obviously very nice people to be around.
3. What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold?
She’s a Scientica at the Thule Academy of Thanatology (My dad’s necromancer school rp guild) which means she is in the third semester.
In the Family Kegbrawl Team she plays as a brawler and has 14 year streak in getting the highest points for a single player.
4. How do they fit into their “story”?
Most of her personality developed through and around the academy rp. Her magic swearing for example was introduced as a reason why she would want to go there in the first place. Now that the guild isn’t active anymore she is part of my wholesome group of Akis and friends for when I want to think about happy people being happy.
5. Where do they currently live? What’s their place like?
Lorna doesn’t have a place of her own. She mostly stays with the Akis in their homestead or stays at the hunters lodge in queensdale for the school year.
6. How do they eventually die?
no plan yet
RELATIONSHIPS
1. Do they have any friends? Would they consider anyone to be their best friend?
The Akis are definitely not only family but also friends, and she is friends with a few of her classmates. You could count Era and Cap but they are more friends of friends to her.
2. What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it?
3. What’s their love life like? (See also: ship question meme.) Do they have any kids?
no significant other, no kids.
4. Who do they look up to? Who do they trust?
Her Jotun historian great uncle who for most of her life was the coolest person she ever met, and if she hadn’t met Knut Whitebear one time.
5. Who do they hate? Do they have any enemies?
I don’t think Lorna hates any specific person, but she has a deep and powerful hatred for the svarnir because of her parents.
6. Do they have any pets?
no pets
7. Are they good with kids? Animals?
Lorna is okay with kids, others admire her for how much she can keep up with the energetic little ones without getting tired. She doesn’t particualarly enjoy it but she just can’t say no when they want to play.
With animals sually yes, though she doesn’t like animals that are close to her size or even bigger than her. She isn’t used to it finds it intimidating.
FUN FACTS
1. Which tropes do they fit? Which archetypes?
She’s the Loner that isn’t actually alone just plays that mysterious aura.
2. Do they play any instruments? Sports?
She can play drums :D And yeah as said above she is a good kegbrawl player.
3. What are some items they always carry?
She has a chak claw that is made to be a continer for life force, so that she doesn’t actively hold onto some all the time. It was the first thing she had to craft in the academy. She also carries around a small owl feather in a locket for good luck.
4. Do they collect anything?
The only thing you could say she collects are insults. She knows quite a lot of those.
5. What position do they sleep in?
Curled up because most beds are too small for her. The guest bed at the Akis’ homestead is theoretically big enough for her, but she is so used curling by now she never uses the full length.
6. Which emoji would they use the most?
😈
7. What languages do they speak?
Common, the Norns’ own language (with a pronounciation/word selection that sounds old), a bit of jotunn.
8. What’s their favorite expletive?
(I’m gonna lift this one straight from myself because it kinda fits and Lorna is a bit self inserty anyways) most used is something simple. Fuck and shit in comparable amounts. Her favourite though is “blood and ash!” (which may or may not be the expletive of choice in the wheel of time)
9. What’s their favorite candle scent?
honey
10. What songs remind you of them?
Can’t come up with one right now, but I’ve never been big on the connecting ocs with music thing.
11. Which animal would you say represents them?
You know how cats roam around alone but actually are group animals that raise their kittens together and stuff? That’s lorna.
12. What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into?
She’d be with the emos for sure.
13. What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be?
Haunted House
14. Do they believe in aliens? Ghosts? Reincarnation or something else?
Aliens and Ghosts are both a thing in tyria. I don’t know of any instance of reincarnation but our collection of immortals and sentient zombies makes up for that. So yeah she believes in those.
As for like tyrian cryptids or unprecedented and absurd supernatural happenings she isn’t big on those.
15. Do they follow any religions/gods? Do they celebrate holidays?
She’s a norn and does the norn things.
16. Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?
Wroth and Diligence
17. If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, which would it be?
hmm the hermit would be the obvious one but because she doesn’t actually want to be alone I think the Stars fits even better.
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