#but I’ll make an acception for Sam <3

[kr-yoongi]

Sam Carter I love u <3

[wosoamazing]

Emails, Transfer Disputes and Harper

Summary: You get a long awaited email, there are some transfer disputes at camp and you spend time with Harper

Warnings: Some swearing, yelling I guess, angst (I think)

A/N: Plot twist..... maybe, maybe not?

You were sitting against the back wall of the common room finishing off the last of your schoolwork for the day. When you got an email, not just an email, the email, you opened the email and started reading, not caring that essentially the rest of the team was in the room.

‘Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, blah blah, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, blah blah, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Blah blah blah’

It’s safe to say a wave of relief flooded over you, you had put in this request 6 months ago, your final year of school was looming just 3 weeks away now, and so too were the Olympics in a year, tears started to stream out your eyes, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t think they would say yes, the request was purely put in to see, no one thought they would say yes, let alone do more.

“What’s wrong” a soft voice said as a small hand was placed on your shoulder, you looked up to see sweet little Harper in front of you.

“These aren’t sad tears Harps, these are happy tears,” you replied to her, pulling her in for a great big hug.

“What’s happening, are you okay Y/N/N?” Steph said as her and Sam walked in totally confused, everyone turned around to see you tears streaming down you face, hugging harper, with a huge smile on your face, they were also totally confused.

“They, they said yes Steph,” “Who did? Wait. No, they said yes! Om my God, I’m so happy for you.”

“Who said yes?” “The education people, she-”

“Read,” you said shoving the computer into Steph’s hands, standing up, now holding Harper, who just pressed her head into the crock of your neck and relaxed, which Mini took a photo of, she had so many photos of you and Harper together, she could fill a stadium with them.

“Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, whatever, whatever, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, whatever, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Whatever, whatever.” Said read the email out loud, her mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, they’re doing more?”

“Yep” you replied emphasising the P.

“Wait this means you are available to be picked for the Olympics now, we need to go to Tony”.

“You do know there is no guarantee you will be picked though right” someone said.

“Uh, have you seen the girl play,” Sam responded.

“She makes the oppositions defence look like a joke; trust me I’ve been on the other side of it” Alanna added.

“Anyway, if I don’t get picked for this team, I have been promised there is a spot for me on another team. I’ll tell Tony tomorrow; I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been told as well though.”

“You know what I loved to see you place against Barca,”

“Well, if you accept Emma’s offer that could hap-” Sam started but you cut her off “Yeah and if I accepted Barca’s offer I could play for Barca.”

“Wait, you’ve got offers from Barca and Chelsea?” Steph asks.

“Yeah, and City, and like basically every other club, can we not talk about this right now?”

“But have you actually thought about this, this is serious,” “Yeah, I’m not an imbecile contrary to what you may think, Arsenal found out and offered more than Barca and Chelsea, but they raised them, I told Arsenal, and they are coming back to me,”

“Wait, Emma raised her offer? She was already offering more than she pays me, that’s insane, and Barca did too, and Arsenal might raise them again.” Sam questions with surprise in her voice.

“Yeah” you say back to her, slightly insulted by how much shock she is in.

“So, you’re staying at Arsenal?” Caitlin askes.

“I don’t know, I have to think about it, talk to my parents about it, have the dreaded conversation with Leah, honestly Leah is probably the reason Arsenal is trying to raise again, if I go, she’ll probably go too. But even if she doesn’t go lets be honest, the team works the way it does and its successful because of the dynamic we have, a very fragile dynamic at that, with any one of us gone, its going to fall down a cliff, which is risky, its risky to stay at Arsenal, Barca might not ever offer this sort of money again, or even worse they might not ever give me an offer again” you pause for a moment before you put Harper on the ground “why don’t you go back to your Mama” she nods and walks back over to Mini, who sends you an apologetic look, she knew why you put Harper down and it shouldn’t have to be that way but it is “Arsenal is the dream team, you are all amazing everyone there is my family, but Barca is also the dream team, playing with the best players day in day out at training, competing against some of the best, a +66 goal difference, I mean how could you not want that, and the fact that they increased their offer after Arsenal raised them that means something, you get an offer at Barca you jump at it you, don’t look at the figure, you don’t question, we all know how it works, you question, you hesitate Barca takes the offer away, and Lucy and Kiera say everyone there is super friendly and lovely and they think I would fit right in.”

“You’ve spoken to Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh about Barca? But haven’t mentioned a word about it to anyone at Arsenal, your club”.

“Yeah, it’s not like I owe you guys anything”.

“So, Chelsea isn’t on the cards th-” “No Sam Chelsea isn’t on the cards, Chelsea was never on the fucking cards, it was always going to be Baraca or Arsenal. Why am I letting you all do this to me? It’s my decision. It’s my fucking life! I’m going up” you start to walk away, before you turn around and look at Sam and Steph “and don’t you dare even think to follow me,” and with that your gone.

______

“Shit” Sam said.

“Well, we fucked that one up,” Steph added.

“Yep, you did” Raso replied as she got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To go check on her,”

“But-” “no, that was directed at you two, and also anyone else who said something, I’m neutral territory here”.

The team was left in silence until Steph broke it “Shit, I have our Room key. We were on better terms this morning; we didn’t think she would need her own”.

“I’ll go up, give it here, she probably won’t want to stay in there tonight anyway. She can stay with me. Here Charli take Harper, I’ll be back down for her though”.

____

“Hey kid, are you okay?” Hayley asks you; she seems very hesitant, she didn’t get much else in before Mini came up.

“Rass, I’ve got it from here” Mini said, Hayley got up and left, knowing this was more of a Mini job.

Mini sat down next to you, “No, but are you okay?” she asks while putting an arm around your shoulders, a few tears escape your eyes, which you quickly and aggressively wipe away.

“I-I, I don’t know” you sigh.

“They shouldn’t have done that, they immediately regretted it, but still they shouldn’t have done that, it’s absolutely incredible that, this is happening, they should be happy for you, but I think they let their pride and hurt egos get in the way.”

“I just don’t understand how they can go from talking about how ‘amazing’ I am to then being surprised I got an offer from more than one club, and from big clubs at that.”

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was a bit caught out, she spends so much time with you and-”

“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knew, not even Leah”.

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was truly caught off guard, you talk like Arsenal is your home and then just blurt out you’re thinking about moving, I don’t think she thought you had thought about it.”

“Well, Arsenal is my home, but they say home is where the heart is, and I think if you take out the players my heart isn’t there, and I just feel like things are getting too easy at Arsenal, and I want a change, I’ve been part of arsenal for so long, first through Leah, then the academy and now, I love arsenal, it will always hold a piece of my heart, but I think I need to move, I want to improve, and that’s not going to happen at Arsenal”

“Well, that was easy”.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty certain you’ve made your decision, you just need to tell Leah, and the others. Trust me, once they get over their hurt egos, and feelings of betrayal they will be happy for you, and Leah has already been caught off guard by you once”.

“Yeah okay, where is my number one supporter by the way?”

“Oh she is downstairs with Charli, I thought it was best if I left her down there so we could have an adult conversation, but I have this which you might want.” She hands you your room key, “get the stuff you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, you can have a sleepover with harper and me tonight, she is going to be so excited.”

“Y/N/N!” Harper exclaims when she walked into her room to find you sitting there.

“Harper” you exclaim back matching her energy, she jumps into your arms, and you throw her into the air and catch her, before jumping onto the bed, “what do you want to do?”

“Ice cream?” you look over to Mini.

“Why not, let’s go”. You Mini and Harper go out to ice-cream together, as you walk past the others in the common room you just ignore them, they all seem to be sitting in an awkward silence.

“Harper, you are all sticky, where are the wipes?” you exclaim as harper smushes her sticky face into you for a hug after she had finished her ice-cream.

“Here,” Mini slides the wipes over to you.

“No don’t, hey come back here,” Mini pulls her phone out to film the two of you, harper is running around the park to get away from you and you’re chasing her with a wipe in either hand.

“Ha, got you,” you say as you grab her, proceeding to wipe her sticky face and hands.

“Park?” “You want to go play in the park?” Harper nods her head, so you take her hand and walk over to the park together, you spent most of the afternoon in the park. You pushed harper on the swings. Unsuccessfully taught her how to pump herself on the swings. You went down the slide, a few too many times. Your afternoon was finished off by teacher harper how to do the monkey bars, which she was very good at – with help of course. Mini sat at the table while you two played, she looked up every now and then to check things were okay, but she seemed to make many phone calls, usually you would ask who it was, but you were having too much fun with harper to care.

_____

“I just won’t have dinner tonight, I’ll be fine,” “No, you will be going to dinner, Tony said he wanted everyone there, especially after what happened today, and no one is allowed to leave until he has spoken to us” you huff “Come on lets go now, you can sit with us, just sit at one of the back tables, you can then sit somewhere so you don’t have to see them,” Mini said as she dragged you up.

“Here take her, go sit, I’ll get food,” Mini says handing Harper to you as you walk into the dining room,  there are only 4 people in there currently not including you three, yet somehow one of the people you really don’t want to see is standing at the food bar. You go and find a seat, Mini comes back, with food. You have finished yours, but Harper hasn’t even touched her diner, she insists you feed her, so that you do, until Mini saw something.

“Um,” “What?” “I’ll message you,” she pulls out her phone, you phone vibrates on the table, and you quickly pick it up to read her message.

Gorry: Steph just walked in, gave Sam a dirty look as she walked past and Sat down at a different table.

Your jaw drops and Mini nods her head, you make questioning eyebrows at her and she just shrugs. You two captains always sat next to each other during mealtimes, or at least at the same table, you were often seen with them too but every now and then you sat with others, trying to expand your social circle. So, the fact that they aren’t sitting together is very odd.

After everyone had basically finished their dinner Tony got up, and started to talk, “Girls, I would just like to say the behaviour today was unacceptable, and I am extremely ashamed at the actions of our captains and older teammates, if anything it was our youngest teammate who showed the most maturity by walking away. Please know that if this sort of behaviour ever happens again on camp there will be punishment, and I’m not just talking laps. Steph and Sam can I talk to you outside please, the rest of you are free to enjoy your night.”

“I can’t believe I am having to do this girl, and I still can’t believe I saw what I saw this afternoon.” Tony starts yelling at your captains not realising the door hasn’t shut completely.

“Wait what happened? Why am I not getting in trouble, he wasn’t there was he?” you ask Mini.

“I don’t know, and no he wasn’t”.

“Oh boy did you two miss something, it was kind of good you left when you did,” Macca started.

“Yeah so basically once you had gotten harper and left, Steph finally broke the really awkward silence and asked Sam why she reacted the way she did when you said Arsenal raised and then Barca and Chelsea did again, and Sam was like ‘She is only sixteen and getting paid more than me, and I’m assuming you too’, which to be honest was a low blow, like she just attacked Steph there but anyway, Steph then said ‘Well, yeah she is fucking good’, and Sam replied ‘oh course you would say that,’ Steph asked her what she meant and she was like ‘oh well she’s your little mini me, always with you, always coming to you for help, and you always drop everything to help her, you act as if she is the sun and we all revolve around her’ which obviously Steph was taken aback by and was like ‘Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for not only fulfilling my captain duties but being a nice person, you know Sam we are meant to be approachable and help our teammates especially the younger ones, and of course she comes to me for help, she’s a kid, like we joke Kyra and Charli and all that are kids but she is actually a kid, you have to take more care with her, help her more, help her understand. Just because your ego is hurt at the fact that a 16-year-old is going to get paid more than you and you don’t know how to feel because a 16-year-old is better than you doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, and you are blind if you actually were surprised that Barca and Chelsea raised their offers again, she is incredible, will be the player of her generation,’ and then Sam just scoffed and was like ‘whatever you suck up’ and then Tony walked in and got super mad and send us all to different rooms and stuff” Hayley gives you both a brief recount of the day.

“Yeah, you really did miss a lot,”

“Yeah, it seems we did,”

“But wait Steph was protecting me, I thought she was having a go at me? I think I was just so mad at Sam; I kept it going”.

“Yeah no, originally I don’t know if she was having a go or just questioning but after you left, she really did confront Sam and I mean Sam was in the wrong, Steph could’ve just dealt with it in a better way.”

_____

“I think someone is tired, should we head up?” you say, after Harper yawns, looking at Mini for confirmation who nods, you pick harper up and rest her on your hip, she puts her head on your shoulders and her eyes start to droop. Once you arrive to your room you get dressed into your Pjs and so does Harper, you both already have had your showers for the day.

A phone vibrates and look over to mini, “that was you”, so you pick up your phone to see a message from Steph.

Steph: Hey can we talk? I understand if you don’t want too.

You: Hey um yeah but it’s easier if we message, Harper has fallen asleep on top of me.

Steph: Yeah, no that’s fine, I don’t know if I’m allowed to come out of our room anyway and if you even allowed to come in.

You: Oh

Steph: But I just wanted to say sorry for what happened this afternoon, I was out of line, and I just want to apologise, I am really sorry.

You: For what happened when I was there or what you said to Sam?

You: But in all honesty, it’s okay, I was getting defensive at Sam and snapped at you when you didn’t deserve it you were just questioning. But also thank you for stepping up and confronting Sam for me even if it got you in trouble.

Steph: Wait who told you about that?

Steph: But I was just telling her the truth and really, I should’ve stopped her earlier, it shouldn’t have gotten to the point that you had to walk away.

You: It’s okay Steph, I promise I forgive you but maybe not Sam, at least not yet. She was mean to both of us.

Steph: Okay, I will make it up to you I promise.

You: Hmmm, I will think about what I want…..

Steph: I never said I would by you anything, maybe I was just going to be nice, get you out of fitness testing

You: Hey no, that isn’t nice, I looove fitness testing

Steph: Weirdo

You: Hey

You: Love you heaps, good night (well not for you but for me), see you tomorrow, I can’t wait to see you! I have so much to tell you.

You: Shit that was meant for Leah not you

You: But love you anyway, see you in the morning.

Steph: Love you, sorry again, night night

_____

You were standing at the breakfast bar contemplating your morning meal like you were contemplating life when you saw Steph walk in, you immediate walked over to her and hugged her, in which she returned wrapping her arms around you tightly as if to never let go, you could really sense her guilt, you stayed like that for at least a minute and only pulled away because Sam wanted to talk to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m really sorry” she said very awkwardly.

“Okay, thank you.” You say bluntly before walking away.

“What so she is hugging you, but I don’t even get an I forgive you?”

“Well, she doesn’t like lying and I don’t think she does forgive you yet,” Steph said before walking away and following you.

[positivexcellence]

Jared Padalecki On Reteaming With Eric Kripke For ‘The Boys’: “The Answer Is Yes”

Jared Padalecki has accepted Eric Kripke‘s invitation to join The Boys.

The Supernatural creator recently spoke about his desire to reunite with Padalecki on his Prime Video series for the fifth and final season. When asked by Deadline whether he was up for the task, the actor didn’t hesitate to say, “The answer is yes.”

“We have talked [about a role]. As a matter of fact, we talked today,” he said. “I think at this point in my acting life, I only want to work on projects that I really care about or with people that I really care about, and obviously Eric and I are indelibly connected forever.”

Padalecki is saying goodbye to his CW series Walker next week, after the series was abruptly canceled in May. The series ran for four seasons and, as star and executive producer, Padalecki has been quite busy with that project.

Now that he’ll have some free time in his schedule, he tells Deadline he’s looking forward to the possibility of reuniting with Kripke.

“I mean, he created Supernatural. He created Sam Winchester. He created Ruby [Genevieve Padalecki], who I ended up marrying and starting a family with,” he continued. “I adore him. I adore his humor. I adore him as a person, his storytelling. So I can’t wait. I don’t think [Season 5] films until next year, but I will be ready when he makes the phone call. I’ll just say ‘Okay, when am I flying out?'”

Padalecki joining The Boys could also mean the door is open for reunion with his Supernatural co-star Jensen Ackles, who was in Season 3 of The Boys as the villain Soldier Boy. He also made an appearance in the spinoff series Gen V. While his character hasn’t officially appeared in Season 4 of the flagship series, it’s always possible that crossover could happen as well.

deadline

[thereaperisabitch]

My Joel Miller fic recs Volume 2

I wanted to post this before my birthday, but that was more than a month ago - life happened (SO MANY things happened).

As I said on the first part, 2023 was a very rough year and these stories I’ve read were a great solace for me. Sadly, 2024 it’s still being as rough – so I’m holding on my resolution and being more active on here. My original plan was to make a rec list of the year, but not only it’d be huge but it would be a lot of work, so I’ll be separating in volumes. Last year’s will be considered volume 1, this is volume 2.

I want to thank every author in this list @tieronecrush @atticrissfinch @swiftispunk @the-scandalorian @softlyspector and @toomanystoriessolittletime : thank you so much for taking your time and created amazing stories for me and for all the readers in here, you all are very talented and creative, your hard work in crafting the best reading pieces it's very much appreciated, I wish there's more I could do to express how much I value your writing.

Hot & Heavy (complete)

Summary: 3 years, 3 summers - what happens when you can’t get over your sexy older neighbor? The sexiest and sweetest love affair that could happen – but with a lot more between them.

This one is very dear to me, @tieronecrush is the sweetest person on earth (and I love her even more knowing she's Aries too). Sam’s creativity it’s amazing and at the same time she can balm our hearts with her words, she can squeeze it with our lungs.

I think this was the first story I’ve read of hers and her Javier Peña’s “Only Angel” will appear again when I make a list of rec's of our beloved Peña.

From her Joel Miller stories, I also highly recommend Trick or Treat, Secret Santa and Orange Crush.

Meet Me In The Back (on going)

Summary: after a rough shitty day, you just want your drink, but state’s law is against you, what to do? Sleazy gas station clerk Joel shows you he can bend the rules for different ways to pay 👀

This has become my obsession, consuming my thoughts at the most random times and very oftenly. Joel’s kinda weird in this story, but he gets under your skin, etches in your brain in a way that you accept and love. And because I’m a ~romantic gal~, there’s more than crazy ass good smut in this too and so far, I’m loving the development of this story.

I also HIGHLY recommend In the Next Room, ‘cause @atticrissfinch turned an annoying situation (my aunt struggles with neighbors like this and it’s exhausting my family) into one of the sexiest things ever.

Your Summer Dream (complete)

Summary: after a traumatic breakup, you’re travelling to Costa Rica with your parents and your dad’s best buddy, Joel Miller. You know what they say, the best way to heal a broken heart it’s with a good dick someone new, right? Right.

This is one my favorite dbf!Joel ever! The situation between them it’s the most appealing – hot DILF, friend’s of dad, fresh breakup and SUMMER and BEACH –  it’s the perfect recipe for a delicious and thrilling story, but @swiftispunk adds more with her talent, bringing up also the complicate parts of falling in love with your dbf.

I also highly recommend Good to Me, it’s about Joel being a gynecologist – and just that made me BURN, but also he’s a very good and caring gynecologist, which makes everything all better. Say it With Your Hands is set in Jackson Era - Joel Miller in Jackson visits a masseuse and it’s too much body contact for our poor old man. And Snowflakes, a Fireplace, and You it’s a beautiful Christmas tale and it’s also very much sexy and sad, and I foolish hope that next Christmas there’ll be a second part.

Two & Mine

These are one-shots that aren't related.

I love @the-scandalorian and the day I make a rec list for Din Djarin, 90% of it will be all of her pieces. But since Joel’s stills the man of the hour, I recommend both of these one-shots of her. Mine was the first anal fic with Joel that I’ve read in here, and that’s all you need to know to go read it and LOVE it as I do.

Two includes it’s smut with angst, which I LOVE, as well. And it’s perfect smut, in every detail and word choice, because Simone is wonderful and everything she writes it’s perfectly endearing and it touches you in different ways.

If you're also into Din Djarin content, go check her work.

Honeyed (complete)

Summary: the dilemma of someone who can’t stand being touched but finds a connection with the tattooist Joel Miller and his arts.

I’ve used “can’t stand being touched” but you need to know that’s because there’s trauma in the background and @softlyspector explains that in the Warnings. This story it’s very dear to me, I was really involved while reading and Becca builds the perfect relationship of trust between them, while adding some mind-gushing pining.

You know when you read something so good you feel something tingling inside you? That’s how I’ve felt reading Honeyed, that’s how good this story is.

I’ve reread this story before finishing this list and it was a thrill as it was when I've read it for the first time. Becca nailed perfectly with her writing in here and I love it love it love it love it, please go read this and fall in love with this story too.

⚠

🚨WARNING🚨 ⚠ATTENTION⚠ The next story contains beastiality/sexual content with a monster creature. If it’s not your thing or you don’t think you’ll be able to read it, JUST DON’T READ IT. If even you’ve ignored my and author’s warnings and read it still and didn’t like it, keep your opinion to yourself, unless you’ve got some real constructive criticism to share respectfully. Many authors in this place have been migrating or becoming less active in the fandom because of people who think they can say whatever they want without any regards of respect and fuck the receivers of their hate. Don’t make here a worse environment, life outside it’s already awful and unfair as it is. Respect the authors and their work, even if you don't like them.

Claimed

Summary: after being chased by raiders, your savior comes in a form of a strange creature (werewolf). What happens after it’s more than a different way of saying “thank you”.

I’ve felt I needed to add this story here not only because it swept me off my feet and I loved it, but also because this list needs more spice, so thanks @toomanystoriessolittletime for brightening this even more.

Now, if someone asks me if I’m into monster fucking, I’ll say no – but I’d be guilty by this story and other ones (Din Djarin, your time will come). Now that being said, this story it’s HOT, it made me feel hot and I’ve felt good with this story.

I’ve loved the smut, but also how Steph created a perfect atmosphere, I could picture the scene perfectly in my mind. And also Tommy being a werewolf made me hot as well.

That’s it, folks. Next volume probably will come after June. I don’t believe in my promises and neither should you (unless when recommending a fic, then you can trust it’s good).

[fuckthisshitimin]

THAT DAMNED SPREADSHEET

DOES ANYONE TO HEAR ABOUT MY ADVENTURE IN THE SPREADSHEET?

Cause I'm pretty damned sure I know what getting "High" on Milgram means.

Talking about his being rejected by the Magnus Institute, Samama said:

[That definitely feels like when it all started. […] Well, after that it all just went downhill. Didn’t get into Oxford, so I went to Nottingham.]

And that does not sound like what one would say about something that happened when they were, like, eight. So I went to take another look at the spreadsheet. Of course I was wrong, because The Magnus Institute burned in 1999, so he couldn’t have been more than nine, but I found out other stuff.

A thing that bugs me in how I’ve read some discussing the spreadsheet is that Sam has the highest empathy score, and that it made him “too nice/good” for the Institute’s purposes (not necessarily this directly but it has been implied, including in the “recruiting future avatar theories, and… well, implying that low empathy makes you more likely to become a literal monster is quite disgusting, actually).

First, I think we got one thing wrong on the Kohlberg column. Since they are kids, it doesn’t seem shocking that they’d be around stages 1 to 3 of his “Six stages of moral development”; but it doesn’t say Stage 1, 2 or 3 it says Level 1, 2 or 3, and I don’t think it’s a mistake.

His six stages are divided into three levels: Pre-Conventional (1,2), Conventional (3,4) and Post-Conventional (5,6).

People in stages 1 and 2 (Level 1) have a sense of morality that is linked to the direct consequences of their actions on themself — stage 1 is “don’t hit the dog because you’ll be punished” and stage 2 “give her half your banana and you’ll get half her chocolate bar” (very simplified).

People on stages 3 and 4 (Level 2) have internalized their surrounding’s sense of morality and act accordingly — stage 3 being “I’ll get a good grade in being a person by following the rules” and stage 4 “the rules I learnt are true and real, failing to follow them is Wrong and upholding them is Right” (idem).

People on stages 5 and 6 (Level 3) have a personal sense of morality that is critical of societal norms — stage 5 being “there are rules, and those rules can and should be changed through compromise to be fair to the greatest number”, and stage 6 “unfair rules should not be followed, direct consequences like punishment are irrelevant when it comes to deciding to do what it right” (very, very, very simplified).

If I’m right, the spreadsheet is so much more understandable.

First thing I wanted to do was put numbers on how singular Sam’s results are:

He gets “High” on both Milgram and Asch when the overwhelming tendency is that the higher your other scores are, the more likely you are to get “Low”, and the numbers were, indeed, that among the 49 children who scored “High” on both, 33 were in Piaget’s stage 1, 15 were in stage 2 and only Sam was in stage 3.

The 33 kids who were in stage 1 are the opposite of Sam:

(Abbreviating so it’s easier to compare values but P=Piaget, K=Kohlberg, Ps=Prosocial, S-A=Sally-Anne, U=Ultimatum, EI=Empathy Index)

33K: (P) Stage 1 :: (K) Level 1 :: (Ps) Low :: (S-A) Fail :: (U) Unfair :: (EI) ≥62%

Sam: (P) Stage 3 :: (K) Level 3 :: (Ps) High :: (S-A) Pass :: (U) Fair :: (EI) 98%

So that’s weird. And when I went to filter by Kohlberg levels… absolutely no kid that was on “Level 2” scored High on Milgram and Asche.

In fact, among the 99 kids on Kohlberg Level 2, none got “Low” for prosocial, none got “High” on Milgram, only 2 got “High” on Asch.

And when we read “Level 2 (Conventional Morality) instead of “Stage 2 (Pre-Conventional Morality, what benefits me directly)” we can make sense of this: 

“To reason in a conventional way is to judge the morality of actions by comparing them to society's views and expectations. […] Conventional morality is characterized by an acceptance of society's conventions concerning right and wrong. At this level an individual obeys rules and follows society's norms even when there are no consequences for obedience or disobedience. Adherence to rules and conventions is somewhat rigid, however, and a rule's appropriateness or fairness is seldom questioned.” (by Kohlberg himself, from Wikipedia)

Adults can be Level 2, by the way. Adults can even be Level 1. Subjects of the Milgram experiment are displaying peak Level 2 behavior.

“High” on Milgram is “Did not electrocute/Disobeyed”

“High” on Asch is “Did not conform”

GOSH THAT IS SATISFYING

Bonus: the average empathy index is 79,1%, the median is 82% with 116 kids below 82%, 13 kids at 82% and 120 kids above. Of the 116 kids below the median, 11 got “Low” on Milgram. Of the 13 median kids, 3 got “Low” on Milgram. Of the 120 kids above, 91 got “Low”.

If we take the average instead, of the 163 kids more empathetic than the average, 100 got “Low” on Milgram, and 2 got “High”, of the 86 less empathetic than the average, 5 got “Low” and 59 for “High” on Milgram.

So actually here, low empathy is inversely correlated to willingness to hurt if ordered to.

And it makes sense. Low empathy is often associated with anti-social personality disorder, autism, depression — and you know what’s very associated with anti-social personality disorder? Disobedience.

Now I have to make another post about the weird kids in red's names.

[zepskies]

If You Want It To Be - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down after a hunt, Sam and Dean tow you back to the bunker for Christmas. This time of year gives you and Dean a little courage to be honest about what you both want. And what you want, is for him to see you. (18+)

AN: And here’s Part 3! This fic is an entry for @deanwinchesterswitch's TGWRC: Christmas in July event. 🩵❄️

Themes: Mistletoe (a classic), eggnog, Christmas dinner

Word Count: 3,600 Tags/Warnings: 18+! Smuttish, fluff and feels.

Part 3: Christmas Day

The next day, Christmas morning comes. You’re up early after a night of somewhat restful sleep (anticipation of today kept you up for a while). 

And so are the guys, though their enthusiasm isn’t as bright as yours. 

Everyone is still in their pajamas, the humans with their mugs of coffee as you corral your friends into the living room by the sparkling, multicolored tree.

During your trip to Walmart on your first night in, you managed to squeeze in some shopping for actual presents. Your wallet now hates you, and likely will until February. 

But it’s worth it to see the guys’ faces when they find their names on gift-wrapped boxes under the tree. Jack in particular wears an expression of wonder, almost like a little kid. It makes you smile. 

Everyone has a small gift from you, though they clearly weren’t expecting it. Sam accepts his parcel from you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I don’t think any of us remembered about this part,” he says.

“No worries,” you wave him off. “It’s just a ‘thank you’ for letting me crash here for the holidays.”

You have a new book for Sam, an old-school Gameboy for Jack, a new set of ties for Castiel. You hold your breath when Dean sits down on the couch to open his. 

He considers the small box with slightly furrowed brows. He glances up at you. 

“What’d you do?” he asks. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Just open it, Dean,” you reply with a laugh. A smile twitches at his face, and he finally obliges you. 

Inside the black velvet box is a nice silver watch with a leather strap. 

Dean blinks in surprise. He glances over at his empty wrist where his father’s watch used to rest, but he hasn’t replaced it since it broke after the witch hunt in Indiana.  

You come over to sit beside him and point out the new watch’s features.

“This part is adjustable,” you explain. “I figured you could take it off and use the strap for your dad’s watch.”

A slow smile spreads across Dean’s face, warm and somewhat disbelieving. You bought him a whole new watch, just so he could use the leather strap for his old one. 

Something in his heart tightens, and also eases when he looks up at you. You’re smiling, a little nervous. 

And Dean can’t help himself. He cups a hand behind your head and kisses your cheek, wishing he could do more, but not wanting to invite curiosity. Already he can feel Sam’s gaze on both of you.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean says. “This is…it’s real nice. Thank you.” 

But Sam notices the warmth in his brother’s voice, and the way he looks at you. And the way you’re looking at him, like he hung the damn moon. 

It brings a suspicious smile to Sam’s face. 

When you offer to pick up breakfast, Dean intervenes and says you’ve done enough. Sam will get breakfast going, he insists. (And Sam, rolling his eyes, agrees with him.)

“I’m gonna step out for a sec, but I’ll be back,” Dean then says. 

“See ya later,” you reply with a little wave before you go to help Jack set up his Gameboy. Castiel is already sorting through his new ties, arranging them by color, then by pattern on the sofa. 

You glance over your shoulder though, and manage to catch the way Sam pulls his brother aside. You don’t hear what they’re saying, but it sparks your curiosity. 

“What?” Dean asks. Sam raises a brow at him, with a knowing smile. 

“Get her something good,” Sam tells him. 

“Dude, shut up,” Dean holds a finger over his lips and glances over at you. Thankfully, you seem invested in helping Jack. 

“I’m just saying. Put some effort in,” Sam persists. His eyes hold a teasing glint. “Nothing from the gas station.”

“All right, I got it,” Dean snipes back. It’s none of Sam’s business, really, but he already has an idea growing in his mind as he heads down to the garage.

Dean has all but disappeared since this morning. You thought the two of you were going to talk at some point, but you haven’t seen him all day. 

Maybe it’s stupid, but you start to wonder if he’s avoiding you. If the gift was too much…

Sam happens to catch you lost in thought while you’re glazing a large ham in the kitchen.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asks. 

“Sure,” you reply. “Want to peel the potatoes?”

You glance at the bag on the counter. Sam agrees and joins you to wash and start peeling for you. 

“Have you seen Dean?” you ask him, hopefully subtle. 

Sam’s lips start to form a knowing smile, but he dims it down. “He’s probably in the garage.”

“…Oh, right. God forbid I bother him while he’s working on his car,” you joke. Sam glances at you.

“Or yours, most likely,” he says. “He did promise to get it done by today. Didn’t you guys have a little bet going?” 

He knew about that? you think with a blush. 

“That was silly,” you admit. “It’s Christmas. He should just relax.” 

“When my brother says he’s gonna do something, he commits,” Sam says. “He deals with people the same way.”

You raise a brow at him. “What do you mean?”

Sam just smiles, like he knows something you don’t. He finishes peeling the last potato and sets it down on the counter with the rest.

“All right, what’s next?” he asks.

Once the ham is in the oven and the other side dishes you and Sam prepared are set off to cook, you return to your room to shower and get ready for dinner later. 

You decide to wear the dress you found while you were shopping, before you even knew your relationship with Dean would change. 

You almost went with a red lacy one, but there was something about this dress—green velvet, off the shoulder sleeves and flaring at the waist. It’s simple, but pretty. You pair it with some comfortable black flats. 

You spend longer getting ready, only having to redo your eyeliner once this time. Then you steel yourself, gaining some confidence, and you go downstairs. 

Jack is in the kitchen, sneaking a finger in the cranberry sauce.

“I saw that,” you tease. He stiffens like you’ve caught him red-handed. He quickly tucks his hands behind his back. He notices how you’ve cleaned yourself up with a polite nod.

“You look very nice,” he says. 

“Thanks!” you chirp, blushing lightly. “Want to help me set the table?”

Jack obliges you like the nice kid he is. You two set up the long dining table that the guys usually use for research, first with the new red tablecloth, then the plates and silverware and glasses. 

And finally, while Jack checks on the ham in the oven, you place the (fake) gold candleholders on each side of the table. 

Dean comes out of wherever he’s been hiding, right as you’re leaning far over the table to light a candle. You don’t realize how your dress rides up your thighs in the back, but Dean is captivated by the sight for a moment…until he clears his throat. 

“Need some help there, sweetheart?” 

His unexpected voice startles a yelp out of you. You flail as you lose your balance, but he hooks an arm around your waist and prevents you from catching your hand on fire. He brings you flush against him, smirking down at you.

“Nice reflexes,” he teases. “When’s your audition for the Karate Kid?”

“Oh, shut up,” you gripe back. 

You shoot him a playful glare as you rest your palms against his chest. But it loses its effect when you melt into his subsequent kiss. You reach up to twine your arms around his neck, letting your nails graze up the back of his neck and through his hair. 

He shudders a little, with a pleasant hum, making you smile against his lips.

He breaks from you with a customary Dean grin, which is equal parts flirtatious, amused, and a hint cocky.

“Miss me?” he asks. You smile through your blush, but you have to taper down your inclination to say yes. His gaze drags down your body with interest. 

“I like this dress too,” he says, and his voice fairly rumbles. Along with his scrutiny, it makes your face flare with heat. Your fingers play with a button on his shirt, red flannel this time. He rubs the soft velvet along your hip.

You tilt your face up to him, despite your lingering blush. 

“Where’ve you been all day?” you ask. He quirks a smile. 

“I’ll show you,” Dean says. 

Dean takes your hand and leads you downstairs to the garage. 

There you find the remains of your car, which has rusted out parts strewn haphazardly all over the ground. You raise a brow. This is how he fixes your car? 

“You are so not winning the bet.”

Dean snorts. “It’s an old rust bucket. Needs a complete fucking overhaul, or the scrap heap. If you really want, I’ll get the new parts, fix it up top to bottom…or, you could just take a stroll through my garage.”

He gestures around, where classic cars are lined up on either side of you. A wide grin spreads across your face. 

“Oh my God, you’ll let me drive one of these?” you say in excitement. 

“You can pick one out and take it home,” Dean replies. Though he doesn’t want to think about you leaving…maybe you two can talk that over later.

Your smile falters. “What? Dean, no. This is your collection.”

He pulls you in by your waist and gently bucks his hand beneath your chin. 

“Call it my gift to you,” he says. You notice his father’s watch once again rests on his wrist, with the help of the new leather strap you bought for him.  

“You’d really give me a whole freakin’ car?” you ask, tearing up and beaming bright at the same time. 

Dean brushes your cheek tenderly with curled fingers; his answer is in his eyes. You try your best to blink away your would-be tears. He catches the one that falls from the corner of your eye with his thumb.

“Why don’t you go pick one out?” he suggests, nodding behind you. 

Biting your lip, you reach up and kiss him sweetly before you get started. You miss the way Dean blushes a bit. Because you’re already meandering down the line of beautiful old classics. 

Soon enough you stop at an interesting red one.

“Ooh, this one’s nice,” you say. Dean is unimpressed. 

“No,” he shakes his head, crossing his arms. 

“What, why?”

“I ain’t puttin’ you in a Volvo. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“But it’s cute.”

“Remember, you’re gonna be driving across state lines,” he reminds you. “You want something reliable, strong.”

You huff and decide to keep looking, but you lay a gentle hand on the side mirror. 

“I might be back for you. Don’t go anywhere.”

A smile threatens Dean’s lips as he watches you. He knows for sure he’s losing the bet. But it’s worth it for this moment right here.

You flit between the rows of cars. Finally, you stop at a funky mint green one. It reminds you of a car your grandfather had when you were a kid, when he’d take you out for ice cream on a Sunday.

“You like that one?” Dean asks. He walks over and joins you at the car, soothing a hand over its hood.

“I think I do. What is it?” you ask.

“A Ford Thunderbird, 1960.” Dean’s gaze meets yours, and he smiles. “Good choice. 5.8-liter V8 engine. 300 horsepower. This gal was powerful in her time.”

“Let’s see if she still is,” you say with a grin. 

So you and Dean break out the Thunderbird into the open roads of Lebanon, Kansas. 

Dean gives you pointers on driving stick, as it’s been a while for you. But after a few minutes, you regain the hang of it and test the car’s powerful sounding engine. It almost rumbles as loud as Baby. 

“Oh, crap. What about dinner?” you realize. “The guys must be waiting on us.”

“Eh, they’ll live,” Dean says with a grin. “Keep going. There’s a park right around the corner here.”

Sure enough, you’re about to turn into a park that borders on a small, but beautiful lake. You probably should’ve brought a coat; the car’s old heater isn’t doing you much good in your little dress. 

But right now, you don’t care. Because this is a perfect moment, and you don’t think you could be much happier. 

You park the car in view of the sparkling lake. Before Dean can turn to you and ask what you think of the car, you’ve started climbing over the upholstery over to his side. 

“Whoa. Easy tiger,” he chuckles as you grunt and struggle. 

“Here’s my Karate Kid audition,” you joke, earning an even deeper laugh from Dean.

But he helps guide you into his lap, where you straddle his hips and reach down to anchor his seat back. The two of you laugh when it momentarily gets stuck, but Dean is able to fix it. With a turn of his wrist, his seat jerks back and gives you more room to maneuver. 

His warm hands smooth up the back of your thighs while you find purchase on his shoulders. 

“Hmm. You’re cold, babe,” he remarks with a frown, and he rubs your legs more to generate some warmth on your skin. “Should’ve brought your jacket.”

Your legs might be cold, but your face heats up at the way he calls you babe. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you’re really his.

Your answering smile is both warm and playful.

“Who needs clothes when I’ve got a big, strong, flannel-wearing man to warm me up,” you tease, soothing your hands along his toned arms. 

It lifts his frown into an amused grin, even as he shakes his head and grips your thighs more firmly.

“Oh, so I’m a portable heater now?” he remarks. 

“Yup,” you nod with a grin as you lean down. “Do your job, heater.”

Swiping your hair over your shoulder, you lean down for a sweet kiss. But it quickly gains in passion as his tongue slips past the seam of your lips. His hands move to take a healthy grip of your ass, grinding you down into his lap. 

A pleased sound gets trapped in your throat when you feel his length pressing against your core through his jeans. You slip a hand into his hair, deepening the kiss and nipping at his lower lip.  

You feel like a teenager making out with your boyfriend in some backwoods clearing. But it’s an exhilarating feeling.

You never thought you’d be able to do this. Not with Dean. 

You cup his face in your hands and pull back a bit.   

“I love this car,” you say. “You really gonna give it to me?”

Dean smirks. Once again, your lipstick (though lighter this time) is smudged all over his mouth and chin. You wipe some of it off with your thumb.

“Maybe I won’t,” he says. “Maybe I’ll take my sweet time fixing that rusted out piece of shit sitting in my garage.”

You giggle against him, and his hands smooth up your thighs, rucking up the skirt of your dress.

“Is that your plan?” you reply. “Strand me at the bunker, make sure I can never go home?”

“Something like that,” he says. “Gotta keep my girl close.”

You huff. “Your girl? That’s presumptuous.”

“Oh, really?” Dean gives a deep chuckle. “Weren’t you the one who said this wasn’t a one-time deal?”

“No, you said that. I’m just along for the ride,” you quip.

But you think you’ve teased him too much when his amusement starts to fade. His green eyes dim to embers as he tilts his head.

“Is that right?” he asks. 

You soften, gazing down at him with a more genuine smile. You press your hand to the side of his face, letting your thumb sooth over the apple of his cheek. 

“Dean, of course not,” you say patiently. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”  

That admission is thick in your throat. It comes out at nearly a whisper. 

But then, the shadows begin to clear from Dean’s eyes. His lips curve into a more familiar smile.

He kisses you, and the two of you continue exploring one another. Not to mention, testing the limitations of a reclined car seat.

By the time you two get back to the bunker, the dinner table is a mess. The guys have clearly eaten without you, and now Sam is trying to explain the finer points of football to Cas and Jack in the living room. He pauses when he notices you and his brother walk in.

“Where’ve you guys been?” he asks. But he spies Dean’s hand resting on the small of your back with a smile. “The food is in the kitchen. All you need to do is heat it up.”

“Thanks!” you call to him on your way to the kitchen. 

Dean means to follow you, but he stops short when he sees a framed picture of Mary Winchester hanging on the wall in the living room. He draws closer to it, not realizing that the others are watching him. Most of them with curiosity, and one with hopeful wariness. 

His mouth curves with a slight smile. Someone caught her by surprise. He can tell by the way she’s looking over her shoulder in the 8” by 10” frame. She wears her favorite green jacket—one that Sam bought for her last year. Her hair brushes past her shoulders in a haphazard mix of blonde curls and waves. But her smile. That smile’s even more golden.

“Who put this here?” Dean asks. When he doesn’t get an answer, he glances back and finds his brother’s gaze first. He just smiles, but doesn’t look like the culprit. Dean moves on to Cas, who subtly shakes his head.

Jack, on the other hand, looks both guilty and hopeful, before his eyes fall to the folded hands in his lap. 

Instinctively, Dean wants to tighten up. But when he looks back at his mom’s smile, a little more of the edge in his heart crumbles. 

“She looks good there,” he says. He turns back to Jack and gives him a nod…and a reserved smile. The nephilim hesitates to return it, but when he does, it’s a genuine one. 

Dean moves on to the kitchen, where he pretends not to catch the way you’d been surreptitiously watching the scene from the kitchen. You duck your head and continue cutting some ham for the two plates you’ve set out on the counter.     

Dean’s face lights up when he finds the pies: pecan and apple. 

“Okay, you want mashed potatoes or macaroni with the ham?” you ask him. Dean raises a brow at you. You smile in amusement.

“What am I thinking? Both, obviously,” you say. 

“Obviously,” Dean quips with a nod. 

“Ah, well that’s interesting,” says Castiel. It stops both hunters in the kitchen with curious looks. 

“It seems you’re caught again,” the angel tells you, nodding up to the mistletoe poised above you and Dean. 

You roll your eyes, while Dean just smirks. You glance up at him with a question in your eyes. 

Should we tell them? you ask.

Dean’s smile grows. Hell, yeah.

He leans in to cup your cheek, and he kisses you soundly—something that shocks both angels…but not Sam. You close your eyes with a sound of contentment. You grab onto Dean’s shirt, holding him close.

“She didn’t kiss Sam that way,” Jack comments. 

Castiel recovers first, realizing what’s happened by Sam’s knowing look. 

“No,” Cas says in amusement. “I don’t believe she did.”

While Sam turns up the volume on the TV, giving you and Dean some privacy, Dean finally parts from you and tugs a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“You know, I promised you a car by Christmas,” he says with a grin. “Technically speaking, I did come through on that deal.”

You raise a brow, though a smile tugs at your lips. “Hmm. I suppose you did.”

“And if I remember right, I get a…what was it?” He pretends to recall with a raised finger. “Oh, that’s right. A consequence-free request.” 

“Here we go.” You roll your eyes, but amusement and warmth still gleam them. “All right, Dean Winchester. What can I do for you?”

He hums and seems to consider it. He makes a show of it, really, tilting his head, looking down at you with a deepening smirk. You fight not to blush under his scrutiny, even as your smile grows. Your hands rest against his chest, while his slide around your waist and pull you in closer. 

“How about you don’t go running off so soon,” he says, thumbing at your cheek. “Stay through New Year’s, at least.”

You’d be lying if you said you aren’t shocked. You raise a brow. 

“That’s your request?”

Dean shrugs, but his quirking smile can’t hide the fondness in his eyes. It warms you in a way you also don’t expect.  

Taking your chin with gentle fingers, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips. Your eyes close as you once again take in this heady feeling. Being with him still doesn’t quite feel real, but you’re holding on for as long as you can. 

When he eventually pulls away, he smiles at your slightly hazy face.  

“I already got what I wanted,” Dean says. “Now we just…keep this good thing going.” 

You really do blush this time.

“Got what you wanted, huh?” you tease. He gives you a wry look.

“Not what I meant.” Then he smirks, squeezing your hips. “But actually yeah, that too.”

You laugh and swat at his shoulder. 

“Well, since I’m honor bound. I suppose I can stay a few more days,” you reply. “And I mean, your birthday’s not long after that.”

Dean hums in agreement. “We talkin’ early birthday present?”

You flash him a cheeky smile and slowly slide your hands down his arms. 

“Then Valentine’s Day’s is just around the corner,” you add. Dean nods sagely, trying to temper his smile.

“Might as well stay through February,” he says.

You grin. “Ooh! St. Patrick’s Day!” 

Dean laughs genuinely then, throwing his head back. You hold onto the edges of his button-down shirt and tug him back to you. 

“What I mean to say is, I could consider staying longer,” you say. However long you want me, your tone suggests. “…I’ll just need to tie up a few things.”  

You know your father will be just fine if you decide to move to Lebanon someday soon. He now has his new wife to keep him company, and there isn’t much else tying you to your hometown besides nostalgia, and bittersweet memories of your mom.  

“Is that a serious offer?” Dean asks.

You grin up at him playfully. “If you want it to be.”

He smiles and kisses you again. The way he holds you, looks at you, it’s tender enough to make your throat tighten with emotion. 

“I do,” Dean says. He stares down into your eyes. “It’s you, sweetheart. For me too. Just you.”

 Your smile is tremulous, but oh, so bright.

“Good.” 

AN: And that's it, folks! 🥹 Let me know what you thought of Part 3. I truly hope you enjoyed it!

Coming Up Next:

I have one other Christmas in July fic in store, over in The Boys fandom. Look out for "Love Actually" (Soldier Boy x Reader) next week!

It's set in the "Break Me Down" story-verse, but can be read as standalone. I will tag everyone who follows that ongoing story (which is almost finished!!).

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@iprobablyshipit91 @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @emily-winchester @hobby27 @spnexploration @freewastelandstrawberry @stoneyggirl2 @satanicpixiedreamgirl @agothwithheavysetmakeup @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @melancholictearz @tipthejar @deans-baby-momma @nic-kolas @jacklesdeanvessel @beautyvaliant @mrshalverson2021 @ajjustice @leigh70 @violetlilysunshine @jackles010378 @ades106 @luvs4dria

[queen-of-deans-booty]

New Life's Purpose

Pairing: No Pairing (female!reader)

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a imagine with both of the Winchester with a tribrid (werewolf, witch, vampire) and half angel daughter of any archangel that is over 600 years old look like 25 and study some many careers and is super intelligent and have a lot of money,  companies, etc and when the Winchesters find out they are surprised and fascinated?

Summary: You've completed your life's mission. You've lived a luxurious lifestyle. You want something more. You want to do something more with your life. Something like a new life's purpose.

Square Filled: “I’m not saying I’m amazing, but sometimes I’m distinctly above average.” (2021) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

All these choices yet you don’t know which one you want. The manager gathered everything he had that fit the description you gave but you’re still having a hard time deciding.

“If I may, ma’am, I think this one would look fantastic on you,” he says and points to the necklace.

“It’s not for me. It’s for a friend.”

The store manager is nervous because this is such a high-end store that the only people who come in to shop must have millions to their name--which you do. More like billions, but that’s neither here nor there.

You tap your fingers on the desk rhythmically as you look at all of the options. People pass by the store on their way to other stores that they can afford but none of them interest you. Not until two men walk by that makes you smile.

“Sam! Dean!” Both men stop and look into the store in confusion. “Over here. Come here.” They look at each other in confusion. “Come here. I need you two.” They step inside, unsure of what is going on. You grab the necklace the store manager pointed to and one that you had your eyes on, and you place both necklaces on Sam and Dean’s neck. “Which one would look better?”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asks.

“It’s hard to say, ma’am. They both compliment their skin tones.”

“I’ll get both,” you shrug and hand the necklaces back to the manager.

“Of course, ma’am,” the manager grins and takes the necklaces back. He rings up the very expensive necklaces and accepts your cash before handing you the bag with them in it. “Have a pleasant day, ma’am.”

“I intend to. Thank you, Tony.” You grab the bag and leave the store knowing the Winchesters are going to follow you. You hold the bag to Sam who takes it with a confused look. “Hold this for me, please.”

“What is going on?” Sam mutters to his brother.

“Who are you? How do you know us?” Dean asks.

As you’re walking, you look into the windows of various stores, only interested in ones that have the price tags in the thousands.

“You’re Sam and Dean Winchester, born to Mary Campbell and John Winchester. Mary died when Sam was six months old by Azazel and John died by selling his soul for Dean to the same demon. You two grew up on the road with fun Uncle Bobby who later died by a gunshot wound to the head, courtesy of that dick, Dick. I’m sure I missed an angel or two in there somewhere.”

Dean immediately stops you outside the store you’re looking for.

“Okay, lady, who the hell are you? I won’t ask again. How do you know us?”

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the daughter of the archangel, Michael. I’m a tribrid of a werewolf, vampire, and witch along with angelic grace floating around inside of me. I guess that makes me a quad-brid,” you chuckle at your joke. You walk into the store and look around for some new clothes since your old wardrobe is getting pretty boring to style. “Ooh, this would look good on you, Dean. Feel free to get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Why did you find us? What do you want?” Sam asks.

You take a nice shirt and hold it up against Sam, deciding that this would look good on him. You do the same for Dean and let the younger Winchester hold your purchases.

“I’m six hundred years old, rich, and smart. I’m kind of tired of spending all day every day in stores all around the world spending my money aimlessly. I’m not saying I’m amazing, but sometimes I’m distinctly above average.” You pick out a few shirts you like and toss them to Sam who catches them easily. “A life of luxury isn’t all that glamorous. I want to hunt and that’s why you two are here.”

“Okay, why us?” Sam asks, grunting when you toss two pants at him.

“Why not you?” you scoff. “You’re the best of the best or so I’m told. I haven’t been in touch with Heaven for quite some time now, so if things have changed and you’re not the best anymore, I will go elsewhere.”

Dean steps in your way just as you pick two pairs of pants for both brothers. He crosses his arms trying to make himself look bigger than he is.

“Sweetheart, we’re the best of the best.”

You toss the pants to Sam who scrambles to catch them.

“Thought so,” you smirk. You walk to the cash register and pay for everything that’s in Sam’s arms. You take the bags and hold them out to Sam who takes them from you. “So, can I join you?”

“No offense, Y/N, but we don’t even know you. How can we trust you to know what we do?”

“Quiz me if you want but do it while we eat. I’m starving. You two hungry?”

You leave the store and head to the food court where you order three meals and bring them to an empty table. Sam set all the bags on the empty chair just as Dean dug into his meal.

“Dude,” Sam whispers.

“What? I’m not going to turn down a free meal,” he says with his mouth full.

“Okay,” Sam nods, not yet touching his food, “how do you kill a Djinn?”

“A silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood. Or bash its brains in. Both are very effective.”

“Rugarus?”

“Fire.”

“Shapeshifter?”

“Silver.”

“Vampires?”

“Decapitation.”

“Vetala?”

“Silver to the heart and twist.”

“Okay,” Sam nods, “what about a Phoenix?”

“Iron or the Colt.”

“Dragons?”

“Dragon-killing sword.”

“How about a Jefferson Starship?”

At the name, Dean smirks.

“Silver, decapitation, or just ripping their hearts right out of their chests,” you smile. “Did I pass?”

“I’m impressed,” Sam chuckles.

“My turn,” Dean says and swallows his food. “How do you change the sparkplugs in a car?”

“Seriously?”

Both you and Sam give Dean a weird look to which he shrugs and continues eating.

“Okay, Little Miss Quad-brid. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven’t fought a day in your life.” You didn’t say anything so he assumes you’re not going to correct him which means he’s right. “How the hell are you supposed to fight a monster?”

You take a bite of your food and stare at Dean in the eyes. Suddenly, every single fluorescent light in the food court explodes and shatters. The only light source is the sun coming from the windows. Two of the food place signs crackle and spark before crumbling to the ground. People scream and run from the place but you continue to eat your food as if nothing happened.

“Like that.”

Sam and Dean are stunned into silence, fascinated by your powers.

“Okay, then why do you want to hunt?” Sam asks.

You sigh and push aside your plate of food.

“I was created for one thing and one thing only. To make new angels. Heaven is dying and Michael wanted new angels to repair the damage Metatron caused when the Angels fell. I did that. I made plenty of new angels and Heaven is now thriving, but I want to do more with my life now that my ‘mission’ is over. I have multiple degrees, mastered skills, and got rich in the six hundred years I’ve been here. I loved the fancy lifestyle before but now I want to try something different. I want to save people and bring meaning back to my life. So, can I hunt with you or not?”

Sam and Dean look at each other and have a silent conversation through their eyes.

“On one condition,” Dean says when they’re done.

“What?”

“Endless supply of alcohol. Like, top-shelf shit.” Sam rolls his eyes and you chuckle. “Oh, and I want spa days.” Dean snaps at his brother before he can say anything. “Shut up.”

“My wealth is yours,” you smile. “Spend it how you’d like.”

“Then you got yourself a deal,” Dean nods.

Maybe this time, you can do something good with your life. Humans are creatures that need to be protected, and this is your way to make sure that happens.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[invis-o-william]

Day 7: Mind Control

With a start, Tucker woke up, the memory of sand and pyramids fresh in his mind. After looking around his darkened room for a moment, he sighed and settled back into his pillow.

Ever since his encounter with the staff of Duul Aman, he kept having odd dreams. Of Egypt, ancient temples, and strange foreign words he could almost decipher but kept escaping his grasp.

Turning, Tucker looked at his bedside clock. It was 3:35 A.M. and there was no way he would be able to fall asleep again after his dream. He knew from experience that if he did the dreams would only grow in intensity. So instead he flicked on the light and grabbed his PDA from its stand.

He opened its journal app, and after tapping for a new entry began typing out what he could remember from his dream. It wasn’t much this time; a river boat on the Nile, an image of the Great Pyramids, and a few odd hieroglyphs, but nevertheless he recorded all he could. The journal was full of these dream entries. Sometimes Tucker could manage to decipher the hieroglyphs he saw in his dreams, but most of the time there were too few to gain any real meaning from them.

From what he could learn though, most of them were from spells. Spells reserved for only the highest priests to perform, often in secret. Spells that Tucker couldn’t help but wonder if he could use. He had used ancient Egyptian magic before hadn’t he? While it had been when his mind was in the grips of Duul Aman, it was still his body, his abilities. But he was still nervous to try. To do so would mean using the staff, letting its power course through him again, and Tucker wasn’t sure he could handle it.

He had long accepted that he was somehow the reincarnation of Duul Aman, living once more in the modern age. While that was true though, he also wasn’t Duul Aman anymore. He wasn’t a tyrant bent on power and immortality through any means, and he valued his family and friends more than anything else. What bothered him though was that version of himself still existed, at least within the staff.

Whenever he held it, it was hard not to lose his mind to the power that it contained. The staff would so easily overtake him and make him into the man he didn’t ever want to be that he was nervous to go near it.

If these dreams kept up though, he might just have to try. They were growing in frequency and intensity and Tucker desperately wanted to understand what they meant. Mulling it over in his mind, he sent a text out in his group chat with Danny and Sam which was appropriately titled “Boo Buddies” before beginning his research on the hieroglyphs from this night's dream.

. . .

The next morning at school he ran into Sam first, which was typical. Danny usually either ran into a minor ghost on the way to school, or was otherwise held up by his parents’ insane inventions.

“What did you mean by past life dreams Tuck? And in the middle of the night?” she asked straight to the point. Tucker sighed, he had been hoping she would at least wait for Danny to get there.

“Well, it's Duul Aman. Ever since the whole staff thing I keep getting dreams about him, and I want to try something." He kept his wording intentionally vague, half worried about her response and half worried about getting to class on time. “I’ll tell both you guys more about it at lunch, we should get to class.”

Sam narrowed her eyes at him, but followed to homeroom regardless as she saw Danny rounding the corner.

. . .

“You want to try what?!” Danny’s yell was swallowed by the cacophony of sound produced by the cafeteria.

“Keep it down will ya?” Tucker hushed him, “It’s not that big of a deal!”

Danny ran a hand through his hair, “Not a big deal? Tucker we’re talking about messing with Duul Aman’s powers. You know, the guy who kinda turned you into a megalomaniac for a bit? I’d say that’s pretty big.”

Sam shrugged, “I don’t know, I think it might be worth a shot.”

Tucker huffed a laugh. Of course, leave it to the goth to be interested in spells.

“But what if he takes over Tucker’s mind again and goes all Pharaoh-ey!” Danny said, waving his hand in a mimicry of Tucker using the staff.

“That’s why you guys will be staying with me.” Tucker swallowed, “Just in case I can’t fight it off, I want you guys to knock me out before I start going nuts.”

Danny looked at Sam for help, but she shut him down.

“You know if we don’t help he’ll just end up trying it by himself.” she said, and Danny couldn’t help but agree that she had a point there.

“Fine,” he sighed, “but I still think this is a bad idea.”

. . .

They met that night in Jackson Park by the treeline, Sam and Tucker on foot and Danny in ghost form with the staff. Ever since the Duul Aman incident he had kept it stored in the Ghost Zone with Pandora since she seemed the type to know how to care for ancient cursed artifacts.

“Ok,” said Tucker, rubbing his hands together nervously. “Did you bring a book Sam?”

Sam replied by pulling out a black leather-bound journal from her coat.

“Good, good. Ok so now I just need…the staff.” he looked hesitantly at the scarab topped staff in Danny’s hand.

“Uh, what spells exactly are you going to try? Just in case something goes wrong.” Danny asked, well aware of how the staff thrummed with power when Tucker looked at it.

“Right, um well, first I’m going to try a book protection spell that I found. I figure that should be pretty safe. And then, uh, there’s this one spell that’s for ‘opening up the west’. I think that one is to make a temporary portal to the afterlife, so like, it'll lead to the Ghost Zone? At least that’s if I read everything right.” Tucker’s nerves were really starting to get to him, but he had to try to do this and see if he was right. See if he could actually do it.

“I figure if I can make a portal then I could use it to help you when you’re fighting ghosts?” he asked.

Danny considered this for a moment. “The first one, yeah I can understand. The Ghost Zone though? I don’t know, there’s a lot of things that could go wrong there.”

“Which is why you’re here just in case!” Tucker said with as confident a smile he could muster. “Just, let’s try the first one and go from there.” he reached his hand out for the staff which Danny reluctantly handed over.

As soon as it was in his hand Tucker felt a wave of energy wash over him. That was okay though, he was prepared for it this time. Pushing back mentally against the power he cleared his mind and reached for his PDA. “See, I’m alright. Now Sam, we should probably have the book on the ground. Just in case.”

Sam nodded, “Right. Be careful with it, that’s my favorite copy of Dracula.” and laid the book carefully on the grass.

Tucker breathed deeply, feeling the staff’s power flow through him, pulled up the ancient text from his phone, and began reciting the words.

As he read, Danny and Sam exchanged a look. Tucker’s eyes had begun to glow golden but neither wanted to break his concentration by noting it aloud. Soon though that disappeared as he finished the incantation.

“Ok then,” Tucker said shakily, “that was manageable. Also, I think it worked. Danny, you should try and open it.”

Danny nodded and bent down to pick up the book. It seemed normal to him, however when he went to open it the thing felt like it had been glued shut. Raising his eyebrows he handed it over to Sam who was able to easily open the cover.

Tucker smiled, “Cool right, now only Sam should be able to actually open it!”

Danny had to agree that it was pretty impressive, and something he might think about using for his journal of ghost attacks as well. While he had hidden it in his wall for safekeeping from his parents he still wanted some extra security, just in case.

“Do you think you’re okay to try the next one? It’s okay if you need a break.” Sam said, both awe and concern evident in her voice.

Tucker thought about it for a moment. While it was exhausting trying to hold the power back from overwhelming him, he also couldn’t resist seeing what else he could do with this power. “I’m going to give the portal a try.” he said, and before Danny could protest he began the incantation.

Danny was more apprehensive about this spell. The book one was cool and pretty useful, but conjuring a portal to the Ghost Zone? That seemed like a huge leap forward for Tucker. But he wanted to be a good friend and trust in his abilities, so he watched as his friend started the next spell.

Tucker felt confident. He could do this, the first spell was a success and he was sure this one would be as well. As he spoke the ancient words he felt the power emanating from the staff increase, and as it washed over him he felt his mind slip to the power of Duul Aman.

Well, at least he had his friends there to stop him from creating another sphinx.

[sneakyblinders]

All His

A/N: another installment of the tommy x bee series aka Tommy and his darling wife!au <3 inspired by a lovely anon and @skydisneylover's asks for something with jealous tommy & how they said i love you <3 warnings: sexual themes, 18+ only, minors DNI. Alluding to smut, but no smut. Tommy being jealous/possessive, language. I take no credit for the gif! 1.5k words.

Tommy and Bee had been courting for two months. He felt like he was floating. In a dream. Having an out of body experience. This cannot be my life, he constantly thought to himself about this woman, this angel who graced his life with her time and attention. 

He began to bring her down to Birmingham on the weekends, sending a car for her up to London and having her brought to the Midland. He wanted her all to himself. Wanted to pleasure her, hold her, let her make all the noise she could manage without fear of his family overhearing and giving them both grief for it over breakfast. Wanted no one but himself to hear her mewls, her groans, whines, moans. The way she fucking moans makes him fall apart in her hands. 

She was everything he was not. Kind, charming, elegant, classy. She matched him in intelligence and wit. He had not seen her get angry with anyone besides him but once–she was calm–always soothing. 

In the back of his mind he knew she was too good for him. Out of his league. He knew she would one day discover his darkness, the depths of hell he had been through, and would deem him unredeemable. He was preparing for the day when his heart would be shattered, and his world would go from vibrant color back to shades of gray. 

But he loved her. He knew he loved her from the first few times they had really spent time together. Knew he loved her definitely from the first time they’d made love. How nervous she was to tell him she’d never done anything like this with a man before. His heart ached to tell her that he loved her. That he desperately loved her–that she was all he thought of day and night. He couldn’t bear to be apart from her any longer. Needed her, wanted her in Birmingham, sharing his bed, his home, his life. But he was terrified of her rejection, or worse, of her acceptance, and later, her rejection and abandonment.

So in the meantime, he showered her with gifts. Perfumes, dresses, lingerie, flowers. He bought her a mother of pearl watch with a gold band after they had been courting for a month. The next week he made love to her for the first time and bought her a delicate diamond anklet, clasping it on, her legs still thrown over his shoulders, still shaking from the pleasure he had brought her to seconds before. He’d recently discovered an emerald baguette necklace and instantly thought it needed to adorn her neck. 

He was walking faster than normal through Birmingham to get to the Midland, anxious to see her. Feel her. Touch her. Hear her voice. He walked through the doors and heard her giggle. Brow furrowed, he walked into the lounge, where she sat across from a young man who was flirting, telling her some ridiculous story. 

“Oh, there he is,” she said, looking at Tommy, breathless from laughing. Jealousy pooled in Tommy’s gut, knowing the day of her finding a better man was approaching soon. “It was lovely to talk to you, Sam,” she said, standing up to walk towards Tommy. “Hello, handsome,” she said, reaching up to kiss him on the lips. 

Far too distracted in his thoughts, he didn’t lean into her like he normally did, causing her to pull away far earlier than she would like. “Hello, darling,” he rasped, a hand on the small of her back. “Go on up to the room, I’m going to get some whiskey and I’ll be up, hm?” he said. She nodded before disappearing up the stairs to their room. 

He thoughtlessly retrieved a bottle of Irish whiskey from the bar before slowly walking up to the room. He groaned when he pushed the door open and saw her lying in the middle of the giant bed in nothing but a baby pink silk babydoll slip he’d bought for her. 

“Are you alright?” she asked as he kicked the door closed behind him and turned the lock. 

“Just tired, Darling. S’all,” he mumbled, walking to the window and closing the curtains. 

He set the bottle of whiskey down on the nightstand closest to the door–the side of the bed he always deemed as his. “Are you certain?” she asked as he loosened his tie and removed his jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. 

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Been a long week and I’ve been looking forward to this since we left last time,” he said, unclasping his cufflinks as she rubbed her thighs together, dying from the anticipation, growing needy at this show of undressing he was making. 

“But,” she began as he removed his sleeve garters and braces from his shoulders. “You didn’t kiss me like you normally do,” she said, widening her eyes and batting her eyelashes at him as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“Mm,” he threw his shirt and undershirt in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. “And how do I normally kiss you, hm?” he asked, crawling on top of her on the bed. 

“Like a starved man,” she said, legs wrapping around his waist. 

“Mm, I see,” he kissed her neck. “If I am a starved man, then you are the meal I’ve waited my whole life for, eh?” he pressed his hips into hers, causing a whimper to leave her lips. Her hands moved down to unfasten his trousers and push them down his legs, along with his undershorts, leaving him bare atop her. His hand moved up to grip her jaw, causing her to gasp, eyes flying open. “Who was that man?” he asked, jaw clenched. 

“What man?” she asked, eyes wide in fear. 

“The man in the lounge,” he said, anger pouring from his words. 

“I don’t know, some man who wanted to ask if I knew of any good pubs,” she swallowed. “I told him the Garrison,” she said, flinching at his grip. “Thomas, please, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered. 

He loosened his grip immediately, breathing heavily. “If you want to run off with another man, just say it, Bee,” he said, sitting up and reaching for his bottle of whiskey, taking a long swig straight from the bottle. 

She sat up, hurt and confusion running through her mind. “Thomas, I’m not going anywhere,” she said, fighting back tears. 

He took another long pull on the bottle before setting it down with a thud and crawling back on top of her, laying her flat on her back. “Say it again,” he demanded, clasping her jaw in his hand again. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, pressing his hips into hers. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Thomas,” she repeated. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he told her, dipping down to nip at a particularly sensitive spot on her neck that drove her wild.

“I’m all yours, Thomas,” she told him breathlessly, legs wrapping around his hips again. 

“Again,” he breathed, slinking down her body. 

“All yours!” she cried breathlessly. 

By midnight he was drunk. He didn’t make a habit of being drunk, and he actually couldn’t remember the last time he was properly drunk. But between the pleasure high he was riding and being thoroughly intoxicated with this woman, he had lost track of how much he had drunk until the bottle was nearly half empty. 

“Got something for ‘ya,” he said, walking over to his discarded jacket and fishing out the necklace he had bought her. 

“Thomas,” she scolded as he held it out, clasping it for her around her neck. “It’s beautiful, thank you,” she told him, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

They fell back onto the bed together, legs intertwined, her fingers drawing shapes on his chest while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t think I could deny you anything y’know?” he said. 

“Why’s that?” she giggled. 

“Those eyes,” he said, shaking his head. “Those fucking eyes could get me to do anything, I swear,” he said and she continued to giggle. 

“Anything?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I have something else to tell ‘ya, but I know you don’t feel the same fuckin’ way so don’t laugh at me, eh?” he said. 

“Oh, Thomas, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What is it?” she asked, a hand over his heart. 

“I love you, Bee,” he said gently, all the tenderness in his mind, heart, body poured into those words. “I have from the moment I saw ya, I think,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “There ya have it. Tommy Shelby–in love.” 

She looked at him with an awestruck expression, all words escaping her. “Thomas,” she breathed. 

“Ya don’t have to say it back, I know someone like you could never love someone like me,” he said, sitting up and reaching for his whiskey again. 

“Thomas,” she said again as he tipped his head back, taking a long drink.

“Hm?” 

She took his bottle and put it on her nightstand, before taking his head in her hands. “I love you too, Thomas,” a smile appeared on his face. “I didn’t think you were the kind of man to say I love you, that’s why I didn’t say it sooner,” she confessed. 

“I’m not the kind of man to say it,” he admitted. “But if you want to hear it, I’ll say it every day for the rest of my life,” he told her, happiness overwhelming him. 

“Are you happy, Thomas?” she asked.

“So fucking happy, Darling.” he breathed, kissing her. “All mine?” he asked, pulling away from her to look at her fully.

“All yours,” she said, smiling as he kissed her again. 

[eqt-95]

This ask game is going around, and one question stood out:

9. Write a recommendation of someone else's fic you enjoyed.

I’ve wanted to do something like this for a while because y'all are just so dang talented and it needs to be shouted on loud. So! I'm using this serendipitous moment to start spamming recommendations in the unsolicited way only tumblr can allow via a series I'm calling Go Read This Immediately™

First up?

not for nothing | by @sssammich

Words: 54,371 |  Chapters: 4/4 | Teen And Up Audiences | Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

I read it… a week ago? It’s brilliant.

Why you should drop everything and Go Read This Immediately™

In the words of Sam: “tender angst”

The first chapter catapults you into this dense web of bone-deep feelings. It is long and relentless and leaves you drained and breathless and desperately wanting a hug (and maybe swaddled and sung to, but beggars can’t be choosers).

And just when this emptiness can’t feel any worse, Sam gives us chapter 2 (and 3 and 4) and we spend the rest of the fic slowly unravelling the tension that had been so methodically wound and tightened and by the end you're completely exhaust but in a good way and listen: just go read it.

The communication and character vulnerability is *mwah*. It is solidly perfect. Sam leaves no stone left unturned in this story of Kara finding herself again. (I’m cheating a bit by cribbing from my ao3 comment): How Lena and Kara evolve and grow to listen and accept and challenge and volunteer information over the course of the story is amazing. There's hesitancy that feeds into trust which eventually translates into outright, unhindered honesty.

There are so many intimate moments and bits of prose that feel like tiny little, perfectly formed snowflakes that dance and fall onto your winter jacket and, in isolation they are stunning, but together they make a truly enjoyable story. I’m discovering a pitfall of this exercise is not wanting to spoil anything, so I’ll refrain from plucking some of my favorite bits, so just heed my advice: GO READ THIS IMMEDIATELY.

- - - - -

Fic Summary | read it on ao3 “Kara,” Lena’s voice called for her again, softer this time. Finally, her eyelids fluttered open, blue eyes staring directly into green. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She could cry (and she was not very confident she hadn’t already), but she stopped herself as the words I can't look at you anymore without my heart breaking rang in her mind. Instead, she simply shrugged, even as her heart broke at seeing the warmth in Lena’s eyes directed at her again for the first time. “What was there to tell?” “You told the DEO not to ask for my help. Why not?” She sighed, not wanting to have this conversation at the sink. But Kara thought it made sense, for her to continue not getting what she wanted. “Why did you come?”

OR, Lena finds out Kara is Supergirl, they have a fall out, and then Kara loses her powers indefinitely.

[windwheeler-aster]

in the shadows

summary: the life of a spy is a dangerous one... and it certainty complicates their love lives.

masterlist

pairings (separate): diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, and xiao x reader 

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader is a spy (diluc, zhongli, xiao) or a target (kaeya, childe), and reader is not traveler

word count: 4,397 words (16 min~) // 880 words per character (3 min~)

genre: Spy AU, Modern AU, romance

format: headcanons and blurbs

warnings: violence (mentions of knife, gun usage, assassinations), cursing, kind of suggestive themes (kayea’s part), reader being hospitilazied for injuries/being on a lot of medicine (zhongli’s part), and brain damage/injury mentions (xiao’s part, reader)

a/n: wow... i really can’t believe i started posting to this blog a year ago yesterday. it’s amazing how far i’ve come since that moment... and i wanted to thank you all for the continuous support since then💖 to another year of writing! 

song recommendation: Play With Fire (feat. Yatch Money) by Sam Tinnesz

diluc ragnvindr, a fellow spy at your agency

he’s known around the agency to be a master of roleplay and disguise

rumors have it that he sometimes completely disappears into a role when assigned the longer missions

the higher ups love him, of course, so he always gets missions with the best pay

not that he needs it, though

another popular rumor amongst the paper-sorters of the agency is that mr. ragnvindr is secretly the heir to the largest wine tycoon in the country

being one of the on-field members of the agency, you know that rumor is true

and it peeves you off to no end that this already rich man is getting... well, richer

but... he’s still diluc, the best person to fall into any role needed

and, of course, your agency has paired you two up on a mission where diluc and you must pretend to be the perfect couple to protect a treasured client of the angency’s (read: the company’s biggest investor)

it’s almost unbearable for you

but the way diluc holds onto your waist, his forearm pressed against the small of your back, makes you think otherwise

and maybe, just maybe, mr. ragnvindr isn’t as horrible and stuck-up as you predicted him to be...

Another one of the servers came floating by your circle, offering glasses of champagne to everyone. Your target, an older gentleman, folded in half with laughter as he struggled to tell a joke. He accepted a glass of champagne, as do the two people standing closest to him. When the server turned to you and Diluc, you eye the flutes of beige-colored liquid with an appreciative gaze. 

But then Diluc’s fingers pressed gently into your side, causing you to look at him. 

We need to keep our minds focused, his eyes say. 

We need to fit in, you argue silently. 

But you comply to Diluc’s suggestion. You look at the server and dismiss them with a polite nod, and then turn back to the conversation at hand.

“— and he said to me,” the target wheezed, holding onto one of the other guests’ shoulders for support, “‘If you keep treating me like this, you’ll be losing your best employee!’” he wheezed again, and then said his punchline, “And I told him, ‘I’m not looking to retire anytime soon, young man!’”

The group chuckled, you and Diluc having to force a laugh to play along. When your eyes met, a look of understanding was shared between you two. Sleazy C.E.O.s, the worst clients the agency can give us.

Your target looked over to you and frowned. Panic seized your heart as you shifted your weight onto your other leg, leaning into Diluc more. What’s his problem? Do we not look... couple-y enough or something? Crap, is he going to blow our cover and cause a huge fuss because of it? I swear to the archons above if this fool tries anything I’ll—

“Mr. and Mx. Ragnvindr,” your target greeted. “You still haven’t helped yourself to some drinks. How come?”

Shit. You looked to Diluc with panic. Out of everything you two prepared for, a reason to not drink was not one of them. Archons above know that this man wouldn’t listen to a simple explination if it depended on his life. So you both struggled for a heartbeat before Diluc opened his mouth, an excuse on the tip of his tongue.

“Although we appreciate the offer, my love and I—”

But before Diluc could continue, a shrill scream echoed across the room. You both leaped away from one another and stood in front of your target, your backs facing him. As you and Diluc reached for your concealed weapons, you both heard party-goers begin to shout. 

“Shit, he has a knife!” 

“Everybody, get down!”

“A knife? At my party?” your target grumbled from behind you two. 

But before he could get himself hurt, Diluc stopped him.

“Sir, I will have to ask you to sit back and let the professionals handle this,” he murmured, glancing at you with a sly grin. “Ready, love?”

You smirked and quickly pulled out your weapon, letting it flip in the air before you caught it by the handle, gracefully. 

However, you almost drop your weapon to the floor when you glance back at Diluc. Your cheeks were set aflame once you realize how hot— no, elegant Diluc looked in a suit. And the way his lips pulled from a tight-lipped line into a handsome grin almost made you buckle at the knees. 

But right now is not the time to get feelings, you reminded yourself.

“Of course I am, sweetheart,” you answer him, finally. Then, you add in a hushed whisper so your target couldn’t hear, “now let’s show this idiot why the agency sent their best agents to protect him.”

song recommendation: Sucks by RealLiveAnimals

kaeya alberich, a handsome stranger who has been talking to you for the whole evening

he’s handsome and suave, and not to mention smart as a whip

so for the entire evening, you two have been laughing and joking about the absurdity of this party

and you can’t help but catch the way he melts, ever so subtly, after you finish laughing

or how he guides you throughout the party, purposefully picking secluded areas so you two can hear each other over the noise

and even though you just met him today, kaeya made you want to spill every secret you had to him

which would have been perfect for kaeya— if you hadn’t stopped yourself from doing so

his agency had assigned him to pull secrets from you, someone who just so happened to be a close friend of another mission’s target

they had expressed for him to use any means necessary to get this information

which just translated to “seduce them” to kaeya, of course

although he’s had worst clients to seduce, kaeya was sure you’d crack by now

but you haven’t, and it doesn’t help that the chemistry between you two feels too natural for him

because the last thing kaeya needed was to fall head over heals with you

but with the way the moonlight streams down onto your face, it’s getting harder and harder for kaeya to resist the urge to kiss you

On the private balcony, Kaeya and you had the perfect view of the night sky. You gazed at the stars with an appreciative gaze while Kaeya’s eye wandered anywhere but the sky. As you made up constellations in your head, a quiet distraction from the handsome stranger, Kaeya shamelessly stared at you.

He burned the image of you into his head, secretly envying the stars who captured your attention. He memorized the way you held onto yourself, how your hands rubbed up and down your forearms. Kaeya also found it important to remember how the warm air left your parted lips, mesmerized by the white puffs of breath you let out. For the mission, he reasoned.

Although, nothing about the mission needed him to stare at your lovely lips. 

Perhaps it was just the moonlight illuminating you, making yourself irresistible to Kaeya. Your lips, so pretty and tempted to him, that make the competent spy lost in the throes of love. They were so tempting that Kaeya really did consider pushing himself off the balcony’s railing and juat kiss you.

But then he chastised himself for being so foolish, almost forgetting his purpose of the evening. So, Kaeya kept reminding himself as he gazed at your lips again. This is for the mission.

“What are you looking at?” 

It took Kaeya a moment to realize you had just spoken, which effectively snapped him out of his trance.

“Is there something on my face?” you fretted, grazing your fingertips over your face.

“No, it’s uh— it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Kaeya stuttered out. But then, quick to resume the task at hand, he added, “I just noticed how lovely you look under the moonlight.”

His heart leapt into his throat when you smiled. 

“Thank you, Kaeya.”

“No problem, darling.”

You looked back to the moon, your attention so easily stolen from Kaeya. He watched as you shivered, ever so slightly, and moved your hands over your arms even more now.

And, without much thinking, Kaeya unclipped his cape. The sound brought you back to him, although you seem confused. But then you realized what he was doing and quickly stepped aside from him, a poor attempt at dodging Kaeya’s kindness.

“Please, I insist,” Kaeya offered the cape to you, again. “I don’t want you getting cold. Alright, sweetheart?”

You eyed his cape, warily. “But what about you? Won’t you be cold without it?”

“I have plenty of layers on already. I’ll be fine without a few,” he said as he placed the cape over your shoulders. “I think I’d look better without a few layers, don’t you?”

The butterflies in his stomach, which he was not aware of until now, soared as you gave him a once over. He shivered under your gaze as you brought your gaze, ever so painfully slow, to his. Usually, his agency assigned him passive clients that always fell for his charms. However, your level of boldness was somewhat foreign to Kaeya. And, truthfully, Kaeya wasn’t used to this much attention from a client. 

But he was far from opposed to it.

He saw you bite your lip once you met his eye after one more once over of Kaeya. Although he should have been thinking about the mission, all thoughts of it were absent from Kaeya’s mind. His heart had began to ram against his chest and his blood pumped in his ears. There was no hope for him now.

Slowly, your hand reached onto Kaeya’s tie and you pulled him close. He was ashamed at the small gasp that slipped from him as you tugged him close to your face. From the tips of his ears to the very center of his nose, it all burned as he was too flustered to think about anything coherent.

Then, you finally answered Kaeya’s question.

“I think I’d have to agree with you, Kaeya,” you whispered dangerously. “Now, let’s go find somewhere more... private to prove this theory of ours.”

song recommendation: Killshot by Magaelena Bay

tartgalia, more commonly known as childe, is known as ruthless assassin

he’s a wonderful asset to his agency, as he’s very skilled in close and long ranged combat

his only draw-back was his unusual enthusiasm to killing targets

which didn’t matter much unless he was placed on seduction missions

when childe was placed on those missions, which was a rare feat on its own, he went to unsettling extremes to protect the target from attacks

safe to say, the agency quickly forbid him from those missions...

these days, childe now spends late evenings and nights on rooftops

he’s laid flat on the roof with a grey beanie shoved forcefully over his fiery orange hair, much to his displeasure

childe will lay there for hours, mostly humming a tune to himself as he awaits a voice on the other line of his communication device

of course, he’ll have enough time to read over the mission’s file

childe will even try to scope the target out, his eyes peeled for their face through the venue’s windows

usually after spotting them, he’ll just keep an eye on them as he awaits for further instructions

now, tonight’s mission was different. as childe was absolutely shocked when he had read over the mission file

because since when did the agency go after targets who were just so perfectly childe’s dream date?

Childe’s eyes skimmed the lines, over and over again. The words didn’t really sink in the first time, not until his third time reading it. But he was still so frantically obsessed with you, who would undoubtedly be perfect for him. Childe tried to read between the lines, going over every meaning of each word typed up. Each detail of you that he was given seemed compatible with him, even if some weren’t even close to his own ideals. 

He chuckled, quietly of course, as he poured over each word again. His mother always used to say he needed someone to “keep his head on his shoulders.” It was about time I found you, he thought with a devilish grin.

“Tartaglia,” an impatient voice snapped at him over the intercom, “are you even listening to me? Shit, did his intercom die or something? For f— no, Rosalyne, this is exactly why we don’t have Jared from accounting to prepare mission equipment.”

Nonchalantly, Childe pressed a single finger to his headset as he continued to browse your file like a teenager poured over a magazine. And he twirled a curl of hair, pulled out from beneath that damned beanie, and began to twirl it around his finger. 

“Good evening to you too, Scaramouche,” he said calmly. 

Childe smiled when he heard his partner fumble over the intercom. “Oh, you mother fu— you’re the worst, y’know that?” Childe could practically see him roll his eyes. “Did you get a chance to look over the mission file yet? You didn’t answer me the first five times.”

“Boy, did I ever.”

“Why are you talking like—” Scaramouche groaned as he connected the dots, “Tartaglia, please don’t tell me you—”

“—found my soulmate and already began planning my wedding?” Childe rolled his eyes as he finally closed your file. “Scara, you always know how to take the words right out of my mouth.”

“You idiot,” Scaramouche all but screeches over the intercom, causing Childe to flinch. “Do you even remember what your job is? You’re literally being sent to eliminate them—”

“Do you think the agency would make an exception? For me?” Childe asks, distracted. “I am their best assassin, after all. Surely I could spare just one target… and take them on a date afterwards, or whatever.” Another groan came from Scaramouche. “What? I’m just sayin’.”

“Do you realize how stupid you sound right now?” Scaramouche sighed. “Who knew you could get so easily love-struck by just a couple of photos and—”

“There’s pictures?” Childe all but screams. 

Before he can wait for his partner to continue, he hurls himself to the folder in question. In his love-fueled rush, he had forgotten to check the folder for anything more. He hurriedly grabbed the photos, acting like a starved man, as he caught his first glimpse of you.

If it was possible to fall in love again, Childe did so read then and there. Scaramouche, unfortunately for Childe, heard the ginger’s quick intake of breath as he feasted his eyes on you.

But then Scaramouche’s groaning pulled his attention away again. “Man, Rosalyne is not going to like this.”

“Do you think she’ll allow it?”

“She’s a big softie— of course, she’s going to allow it. But…”

“But, what?”

“I don’t know how Pierro, or even Capitano, would react… much less the Tsaritsa herself,” he murmured.

“Surely I can—”

“Shit, Childe, twelve o’clock,” Scarmouche interrupted. “They’re approaching the open balcony, alone.”

Instinctively, Childe lowered his eye to the telescopic glass as he leveled his gun. Soon, Childe saw your head bob through the crowds and find an escape to the open balcony. Subconsciously, his finger hovered near the rifle’s trigger before he quickly placed it elsewhere. From his perch on the rooftop, he watched you with such intensity that Childe was sure you could feel it from this distance.

“Childe, take the shot.”

He hesitated. “I… I can’t do this.”

“Dude.”

“Do not ‘dude’ me, Scaramouche.” Childe hesitated. Then he added, “Get Rosalyne on. I need to talk with her.”

“Ajax, don’t—”

“Just put Rosalyne on the phone,” he almost seethes, desperate for a life with you— a complete stranger to him if not for a small profile and collection of photos— controlling him entirely now.

Scaramouche sighed, for the final time. “Alright man. It’s your funeral, though.”

Better mine than theirs, Childe thinks as he begins to craft compelling reasons to grant you mercy from his agency.

song recommendation: Feeling Good by Micheal Bublé

zhongli is the agency’s best informant

he’s organized, easy to trust with those charming hazel eyes of his, and incredibly intelligent 

and not to mention the total heart-throb of the office

but zhongli is also incredibly professional

if you’re ever in contact with him, expect prim and proper emails, texts, document notes, and even manner of speech

but when zhongli is paired for your missions? that’s all seemingly out the window

he’s sweet and kind towards you, greeting you with a warm smile every time he sees you

and zhongli even brings you your preferred drink to your desk

he says its so you can hydrate and keep yourself alert while writing out your mission report

but truthfully, zhongli just wanted another excuse to see you

especially when you have been going on even more dangerous missions as of late

zhongli really hates seeing you all bruised and battered up 

and he practically seethes with hatred at your boss whenever you end up in the hospital after missions

so, he tried to take things into his own hands

just send them on a detour this mission, he told himself, editing the mission document he would give you tomorrow. give them a small vacation, then they can get back on the trail.

however, zhongli didn’t expect his plan to backfire so hard that you end up in the hospital

he hopes that you won’t connect the dots about this mission’s failure— at least until he gets into your hospital room to explain himself

In your injured state, you barely heard the first knock at the door. The doctors had you on so many different medications you could barely keep your eyes open, much less concentrate on your environment. But when you heard the second knock, you turned your head to the door. More so in annoyance than curiosity, as it was proving to be difficult to sleep with that damned knock distracting you.

But you were shocked to see Zhongli’s face in the door. He smiled once your eyes locked with his, but then turned to his right to look at something. After a moment, he nodded and began to open the door to your room.

“— make sure not to cause stress to the patient,” your doctor warned.

“Alright. Thank you,” Zhongli assured, facing the doctor as he closed the door. “We’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Good, because—”

But Zhongli had already shut the door. His shoulders relaxed as he let out a small sigh of relief. He glanced over his shoulder to you, more than relieved that you were all right. But then he was puzzled at what you were looking at, as it had caused your mouth to part. 

“Are… are those for me?” you tentatively asked.

Zhongli realized what you meant and looked down. In his right hand was a large bouquet of roses, the colors ranging from deep scarlet reds to pure whites. He felt odd for still holding them, as they were a gift for your recovery, so he began to walk over to you.

“I’ve never gotten flowers before…” you murmur as he places them in your outstretched hands. “Oh, Zhongli… they’re so pretty.”

“Do you like them?” he asked.

You smiled as you clutched them to your chest, “Of course I do.”

Zhongli smiled in return. For a moment, Zhongli stood over you as he admired how you inspected the flowers. But then you returned his gaze, unexpectedly, and he felt shy for the first time in… well, a long time, actually. 

He sat on the hospital bed, in a place where you did not occupy. For a moment, he struggled to find the words to express himself. He wanted to say he’s sorry for making you go through hell and back because he wanted to protect you. He wanted to explain why he wanted you to be safe. And he wanted to explain why that is, why he felt like only he could protect you. 

But you managed to speak before he did. 

“Thanks for visiting me,” you murmured. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really?”

You chuckled, “Yeah. I guess I’ve never been the type of person that gets flowers… but thank you.”

Seeing that you were distracted, Zhongli swallowed his guilt and tried to apologize.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he murmured, “something that I should have done—”

“Zhongli,” you carefully set the bouquet on your nightstand. “Can… Can it wait?”

He looked at your tired expression and gave in to it, even if the guilt was eating him alive. “Yes.”

“Thank you. All this medicine has been making me so tired. The doctor said it’s normal, but still…”

”Would you like to be alone?”

“No… no, don’t go,” you reached out for his hand, your movements sluggish when you finally captured his wrist in your grasp. “I still want to talk to you— I just can’t handle big news right now, doctor’s orders. Is it okay if we talk about something else though?”

“Of course,” he assured you, trying to brush off the guilt and hurt. Another time, he told himself. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “now, how was your day?”

Zhongli looked at you, who was probably on ten different medicines to keep you alive. You, who didn’t look your best after being shoved into hospital scrubs. You, someone he had been loving quietly from afar, who came back from the brink of death and acting so casually about it.

And Zhongli gazed at you with the same love-filled stare he had been giving around the office, during meetings, and whenever he thought you weren’t looking. But you looked so unbelievably happy when he gave you the roses, and even now you looked content just by being in the same room as him. And Zhongli, ever the love-struck fool at heart, decided it would be best to comply with your demands.

“My day was good,” he murmured simply as you already began to drift off.

song recommendation: Do I Wanna Know? By Arctic Monkeys

xiao, a long time rival of yours

he’s also a fellow spy, the best of his agency in fact

you’ve heard that he might as well be a rogue agent at this point, if not for his personal ties with the agency

and you’ve seen him in action before, on your own missions

xiao is quite... merciless towards his enemies

and he’s not much for conversation either. or cooperation, for that matter

and, hilariously enough, both your agency and his keeps assigning you on the same missions with the same targets

which has ended in you two, on multiple occasions, racing to get to the target first

because, for some reason, the rule of “first come, first serve” prevails the most between spy agencies 

and xiao isn’t afraid to do anything to win in this competition

he’ll leap terrifying heights and gaps between rooftops, he’ll tear down shelves to trap the target more easily, he’ll do practically anything

it’s almost like he’s actually hunting the target

which wouldn’t be far from the turth, but—

and you’ve always gotten the impression that xiao didn’t care about what happened to you

whether you won or lost the competition, he’d disappear a moment later

that was until he saw you, wounded in your failed attempt at catching your shared target

and suddenly xiao’s goal didn’t seem as important as before

You knew the mission was over as soon as you saw Xiao’s striking yellow eyes. 

He called your name tentatively, crouching down to where you were on the ground. Xiao was grateful that he couldn’t see any blood, but he didn’t let it show. 

He pushed you into a sitting position, gently cradling you against his chest.

“Xiao?” you murmur, trying to tilt your head up. “When did you get here…?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Xiao muttered as he made you look at him with a hand on your neck. “Does anything hurt?”

You shook your head, or at least tried too. With each passing second, it seems your eyes have been growing heavier and heavier. 

“Hey, stay awake,” he tried to say in a calm voice, but his nervousness overrode it. “Hey— hey, no, stay with me c’mon,” Xiao shook you, gently, which seemed to work. “Stay with me, please.”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Why are you—”

“Don’t question it,” he muttered, placing your arm over his shoulder. “Can you stand?”

You nodded, getting up on shaky legs as Xiao shouldered some of your weight. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Xiao glanced at your cheek, as eye contact was proving to be too difficult when you kept looking at him like that. As much as his cheeks warmed at the gaze, he tried to blame that fond gaze you gave him on the potential brain damage.

You two started to walk along the pathway out of the warehouse. The agency will come and get the target, Xiao reassured himself. I’ll send them a memo explaining the sudden—

“Your eyes are pretty,” you blurted out.

Xiao blushed, completely caught off guard. “What?”

“Your eyes are really pretty,” you said with more emphasis, causing Xiao to blush even more. “I never got to see them up close.”

Xiao’s mouth remained separated for a moment. No sound came out except for the crack of his voice, which caused him to look away from you. 

You’re a trained spy and assassin, he said to himself, now is not the time to realize your feelings.

“You must have knocked your head on the wall really hard,” Xiao murmured, finally. “But, er, if it means anything to you… your eyes are really nice to look at, too.”

“Really? Then why won’t you look at me?”

As though it was a command and not a simple prompt, Xiao looked at you. His breathing stopped for a moment as he took in your features up close, unknowingly coming back to your lips over and over again. And yet he didn’t seem to notice how you did the same, mouth slightly parted as you drank in the image of Xiao. Each speck of yellow in his eyes, each strand of hair, the way his muscles tensed as he breathes shallowly— all of it, burnt into your memory now.

Xiao blinked and then looked away from you, coming to his own conclusion. 

Yeah. Definitely brain damage. 

taglist:

@x-zho @cxlrosii​

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

[pengweng-quack]

Being a Witch with Vampires

Carlisle Cullen x Witch!OC

Summary: Stella (A witch) and Carlisle (A vampire), and how they blossomed from roommates to friends(?) to partners

Chapter 3/7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Notes:

This was inspired by this fanfic on tumblr by lis-likes-fics titled "In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised"

This is also on Ao3 under the same title and same username too if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448940)

Posting is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

Word Count: 2921 words

TW for this chapter: Hints of substance use (no direct mention)

Timeline: New Moon

Masterlist

“Go enjoy a day out with your friends.” Carlisle urged her

“You’re not gonna stop until you make me agree, aren’t you?” Stella asked, her eyebrows raised at him

“Yes.” Carlisle giggled

“Fine.” Stella agreed, rolling her eyes at her persistent vegetarian vampire

And that might have been Stella’s worst mistake.

Her friends, people she’s met at Carlisle’s work and in her small flower boutique, had invited her out for a night of drinking. Stella wasn’t gonna be joining at first, but Carlisle persisted in convincing her to do so.

When she got home the next morning, she was confused as to why no one greeted her when she entered the house. Or as to why the house was empty in the first place. It was an unusually sunny day in Forks and she doubted that any of the Cullens would willingly step out the house in fear of exposing their secret

There was a growing pit in her stomach that was bothering her as she rushes back to the car and drove to Bella’s house, possibly knowing that Bella has some answers to her question

Parking in front of Bella’s truck, she quickly knocked in the house, and waited for someone to open the door. Chief Swan opened it for her, and she knew she had to explain the situation to him

“Is Bella here?” She asked, controlling every sense of nervousness in her in an attempt to look collected

“Upstairs, but I doubt she wants some—

She didn’t let Charlie finish talking and rushed to Bella’s room. Where she was staring quietly on the window of her room. Waiting for something, or someone perhaps

“Bella.” Stella quietly called, sitting on her bed

“You’re here.” Bella said, having some sense of hope in her eyes

“They’re not with me.” Stella confessed immediately, watching as the small spark of hope in Bella’s eyes disappear

“They—” Bella asked, realizing what the Cullens have done “—They left you too?”

“Left?” Stella asked

“They left.” Bella said, answering the growing suspicion that she had “Edward said that he didn’t want me anymore.”

Stella could only laugh at what was going on. Carlisle had never left her before, and she had never had the thought that it might happen. Maybe this was her long-awaited punishment for abandoning Sam without hesitation and joining Carlisle instead. Perhaps this was fate's twisted way of telling her that Carlisle isn't her mate. Whatever it was, she could only laugh at herself for allowing herself to let down her guard and trust them.

~~

“I heard what you did.” Stella said, sitting down on her couch as she passes Bella a glass of wine

“I don’t want any—

“If you want that sort of adrenaline rush so bad, then I’ll help you!” Stella scolded “At least have someone that you know help you with your decisions.”

“I can’t—

“It’s safer if I accompany you. We’ll do things together, hell, I’ll even get you to cliff jump with me and you’ll be safe.” Stella continued “Ju-just don’t do this to yourself alone Bella. You don’t deserve this.”

“And you don’t deserve this either.” Bella softly argued “They shouldn’t have left you to deal with me. You came with them; you should have left with them too.”

“But they did, didn’t they?” Stella hissed “They left us alone, Bella. And it’s about time that we accept fully that the people we love can and will just do that.”

Stella has never dropped the word ‘love’ when talking about the Cullens in fear that the magic within her would count it as an offering. She needed to be careful, not wanting to hurt any of them. But now that they’ve hurt her, it’s only fair that she could get them back somehow.

“You know what they are? They’re filthy, self-centered liars that never thought of anyone else other than themselves!” She continued, doing her best to conceal her tears. She needed to be strong, for both her and Bella “They’re selfish! And vile! And mean! And everything that a typical vampire would be!”

“Starting tomorrow, we’re gonna do a shit ton of crazy things together.” Stella announced, putting down her wine glass “You want to drink? Then we’ll get bat shit drunk together. Want to carelessly drive? I’ll take you to where I’ve been doing that. Want to kill someone? I’ll do a bit of my magic to allow you to do so. We’re going to do this together. We’re going to deal with this together.”

“Can we visit Jake tomorrow?” Bella shyly asked. Stella didn’t like the wolves’ scent but she agreed, giving Bella her freedom to do whatever she wants

~~

“Bella!” Stella called, rushing in the Cullen’s house the moment her gut feeling told her that she was there after doing something stupid

“You did something!” Stella yelled “Without me! I told you we’d do this together!”

“Do this together?” A familiar sweet voice asked

“Alice?” Stella called, putting Bella behind her in case it was some trick

“She’s here, she’s real.” Bella assured her once Alice stepped out to reveal herself

“Jacob.” Stella said, smelling the wolves’ scent “He’s here.”

“I couldn’t help myself.” Jacob said

“Alice, let’s go have a chat really quick.” Stella invited, sensing that the two needed a chat on their own. They quickly stepped out the house

“Who initiated the leaving?” Stella asked

“Edward.” Alice answered immediately, knowing that angering this certain witch with her won’t do any good at that moment

“Why leave me?” She asked again

“Carlisle wanted you safe and in peace.” Alice answered quicker than how she did the first one “Thought that Forks was the town you needed for it.”

Stella could only feel enraged when she founded out the truth. The very vampire that she fully trusted was the sole reason why she was in pain.

“We really didn’t want to leave you behind. Please know that.” Alice started “Even Edward knew that you were needed there with us. But Carlisle’s decision was set.”

“Send him this particular message when you see him again, will you?” Stella asked. Alice nodded and waited for her message “Fuck you.”

“That’s harsh.” Alice said, before seeing the death glare on Stella’s face “And well deserved, I supposed.”

~~

In the airport, Stella was looking forward to seeing Bella and the Cullens. She was simply doing it to see Rosalie again since she had missed her. Or at least that's what she told herself was the reason she was there as it was unavoidable that she would run into Carlisle after seeing Rosalie.

She missed him.

No, she didn’t.

He’s dead to her.

“Stella.” Bella called out, getting her to see them all again. Stella rushed to her, pulling Bella in for a tight hug

“You’re alive.” She muttered as she pulled away from the hug

“Yeah, I am.” Bella said, rubbing her back

“Rosie.” Stella said, averting her attention from Bella to Rosalie, who was anxious in seeing her again

Stella went and hugged Rosalie, resting her head on his shoulders and feeling the cold touch that all vampires shared. Reminding her that someone spent multiple centuries helping her when she was in need to be cooled down, physically and mentally. And was the exact same person that left her, turning her into the cold, untrusting witch that she is now

Carlisle watched as Stella hugged everyone. Everyone except him and Edward. When they left her, he knew what sort of treatment he would get from Stella. And he was deeply regretting even thinking of leaving her. But what could he do? He was scared. Every time Carlisle would look into the witch’s grey eyes, the same grey eyes that he wanted to get lost in all those decades ago, he would only see how lifeless she looked at that moment. That moment where a vampire’s venom, something that he had in his system, overpowered his confident witch.

He was reminded, that someone like him was the reason why she was in deep pain at that moment.

A vampire like him was the reason why his Stella was in pain.

“Let’s take you home.” Rosalie invited her

“I don’t live there anymore.” Stella quickly declined

“Spend the night?” Rosalie invited her again. Knowing Rosalie was in denial about the possibility of not being able to have Stella around in the same manner she had before saddened Carlisle. And he was the one who was at fault.

“I made plans with Charlie.” Stella said, shaking her head no at her offer.

Carlisle knew that if he had been human at the time, his heart would have missed a beat, and he would have felt his heart drop

He was losing her.

To a human.

“Dad?” Bella asked

“Yeah, asked him out for a friendly dinner. Someone needed to give some information to him. Even if it’s not the truth.” Stella answered “And possibly clean the Cullens name to him as well, who knows.”

Carlisle was at ease, hearing the friendly dinner come out of Stella’s mouth. He wanted, no, needed, a second chance. A second chance to prove that he’ll never leave her. A second chance to show her that he is worthy of her love.

Just a second chance.

Because he was a coward in his first one.

“You don’t have to do that.” Carlisle said quietly, shocking everyone “We’ll explain our sudden disappearance ourselves. You don’t have to do that for us anymore.”

“I’m doing it for Bella.” Stella coldly said, shocking everyone with them. “Not everything is about you anymore.”

Everyone was aware of Carlisle and Stella's quick reconciliation. They were curious as to how upset Stella was at their leaving after seeing how cold she was with Carlisle. Or if it was just with Carlisle.

“Let’s go home.” Edward invited to everyone, knowing that the atmosphere between all of them was getting thicker as they spend more time together

The coven members knew that at that moment, they needed to act for their coven leader and his confident witch

“I told Charlie that you were with me.” Stella told Bella; it didn’t take much to figure out that she wanted to leave already, only doing what she told Charlie

“I-I’ll come home with Edward.” Bella answered to her “You should get some rest yourself. Looks like you haven’t slept properly.”

“Of course, I haven’t slept properly.” Stella hissed at her “Don’t act like you’ve gotten sleep much more than I did.”

~~

Carlisle went to stay near where Stella has decided to reside. It was a small house, just enough for her. Much, much different from the Cullen’s house. He was going mad from his own actions. He needed to do something.

He made the decision to lurk when he smelled her blood when she picked Bella up from the airport. It was different, but still as intoxicating as it was when they first met. It meant that she was doing something, anything, to forget them.

Edward hid what Carlisle was doing to everyone, lying and saying that he was picking up more shift because he couldn’t be in a house without Stella.

He’d leave when he had shifts, only to come back with a stray animal always in the place where he stays. He had a feeling that Stella knew what he was doing, and was just too kind to kick her out.

He’d sit next to her when she was asleep, admiring her calm and resting nature. He’d leave just before she woke up, making sure that he’d leave her room the same way as he got in it.

After almost a week of lurking, Carlisle noticed a change in Stella’s blood. It was slowly starting to smell like before. She had dropped whatever she was doing to herself and it was making an effect.

After a shift, he has made his way back to his usual spot, only to see a deer for him to feast on, but it had a note attached on its antlers.

‘Talk to me in person instead of lurking like some stalker – Your Stella’

Stella knew what Carlisle had been doing, she’d been hyperaware of her surroundings after an attempted attack from Laurent. She decided that she was gonna ask him to leave then and there but his presence calmed her. Even though there was a distance between the two.

She decided that she’ll do it tomorrow. She just really needed this one night of peace.

She didn’t wake up to any nightmares that day.

On the day that she has decided that he’ll ask Carlisle to leave, she felt his thirst. He’s stayed there without leaving like she was some princess and he was a guard protecting her and immediately went to the hospital for his shift. She quickly went to the forest, finding a deer to offer for him to feast on.

‘An offering,’ she convinced herself.

‘It’s not like she cared,’ she added.

Stella knew that Carlisle sneaks in her room when she goes to sleep. She wanted to call him out, yell at him to leave. But his presence calmed her, she didn’t know what he had done to her, but she’s suffered too much already. It wouldn’t hurt if she was to use him for herself.

She stopped meeting with those sketchy guys at alleyways after being in the flower shop, wanting to clean her blood.

‘Maybe if she cleaned her system, Carlisle would leave her alone,’ she convinced herself again, adding that to the list of lies that she’s said this past week alone.

The one night that she noticed that Carlisle wasn’t near her place, the guys from the alleyways came to her place, asking why hasn’t she visited them. She lied, said that she felt sick. They’re suddenly starstruck by something behind her, they quickly bid her thank you’s and goodbyes before running away from her house.

Carlisle scared those men. Stella wished she wasn’t so prideful so she could turn around and face him already, give him some sort of gratitude before asking him to stop lurking and just leave her alone. But she waited until he can make his exit, before turning around to “check” what had caused them to leave.

It was a sick game of catch, the one waiting for the other to slip up so they could call it quits and discuss, like proper grownups. Both Carlisle and Stella were careful and calculating, they were just waiting for the other to slip up.

But Stella wasn’t patient, she wanted to hear what he wanted to say.

She needed to hear it.

Grabbing one of the deer for his meal, she grabbed a note and stuck it on the deer’s antlers and called it a night.

‘Talk to me in person instead of lurking like some stalker – Your Stella’

~~

My Stella, I owe you a lot after our sudden disappearance. Never had I thought that our departure would cause such pain to you. I always saw you as a strong woman, much stronger than me I must say, so I just assumed. I should have given you at least a goodbye instead of cowering behind that night out. Leaving you has been my biggest mistake. I needed you every day. Just as much as you would have needed me. I messed up and I know that it’s beyond repair. I know that there is little to no chance that you would be able to forgive me, I would even say that I deserve to feel the wrath of your pain and anger because you experienced it. But I still want to apologize, for all the pain I’ve caused you. No words are enough to explain how sorry I feel for what I’ve done to you, and no words would be able to change your mind about your perception of us. But I believe that I owe you this apology. Take it as some sort of parting gift, I guess. I would understand if you would want to let go of what we had for the past 300 years, maybe even go back to Italy for Sam. I’m sure he will be delighted to see you again. Just tell him that I’ve taken you against your will, let me be damned among your kind. You deserve a life filled with peace and happiness. You deserve to live. You deserve to love and be loved. I wish that it could be me that gives you what you deserve. Yours truly, Your Carlisle

Carlisle reread the letter one last time, debating whether he’ll send it to her or not. If ever anyone from his family finds out that he’s hiding from talking to her in person with an email, he will be judged, especially with Stella offering that they could talk in person. But he didn’t have the heart to go face her, not when he figured out what Stella has done to herself in hopes of forgetting him.

Carlisle figured a lot of things out when they got home. Despite being a witch and being granted immortality, her body was still very human. Anything wrong that could happen in a human could happen to her, and she knew.

She was hurting herself, all because he was a coward.

He knew that he needed to let her go. He’s caused too much pain to Stella.

He deleted the last line of his message before sending it to her.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Salvation pt. 3

Full Masterlist

Roy Kent Masterlist

Roy Kent / Reader - general rating for now... set to increase 😏

Meet the woman who stole Roy Kent's watch... We finally get to some Roy x Reader deep conversation and messy history... This one is ALL OF THE ANGST guys! But the reward in part 4.... whooooo boy! The spoils (🔥) are coming lads, fear not!

This also helpfully covers one of the prompts from my 200 Followers Celebration 🎉! From a lovely Anon who requested Roy and "I won't let anything bad happen to you".

~~~~~~~~

You pick Sammy up. It’s an excuse really to see Nia, your mother/sister/best friend stand in of the last few years. Even if she is practically the same age. If Sammy’s the one who gave you a job and some semblance of financial security, Nia’s the one who recognised the dark hole you were in and lowered down the ladder to you. You hadn’t realised how close you could feel with someone in only three years, but she’d become your ‘person’ almost immediately.

“Darling, morning.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my ribs have become a xylophone.” You grimace at that. The human body is a magnificent and terrifying thing. When she’d shown you in her baby book how her organs shifted to make space for her growing baby, you’d declared auntie duty would be just fine, thanks. There would be no babies moving your organs around. 

“Nice. Brought you breakfast.” You pass her a bag of pastries. “Is he ready yet?”

“Nearly. Must have changed either his tie or his turban about four times trying to find the perfect combination,” you both roll your eyes and laugh at his commitment to the flawless matching pair. You both knew the answer already - 

“Blue floral.” You confirm together with a nod.

“The fabric is just beautiful. I do feel sorry for the poor bugger who has to make a matching tie for every turban though.” You muse, knowing it’s his mother in law who takes up that mantle.

“I know, right? And he complains that I buy too many books? I think not, pal.” She sniggers.

“You show him who’s boss. Cos if you don’t, then a certain someone else will.” You point at her growing belly. 

“Come on, Sam. You’re going to be late!” She shouts up the stairs. “Dinner tonight?” She asks you, she knows you might need company after the day ahead of you. You’ve disclosed a lot more of your past to her than Sam so she’s already up to speed on the last few days. You nod gratefully. “You’ll be fine. You need to talk to him though, apologise properly - explain what was going on back then.”

“I know. I will.” You hug her tightly and pester Sam out of the door.

Rebecca Welton is a gracious host. Warm, welcoming… you knew the lies the tabloids liked to spread so you knew the whole ‘cold, old Rebecca’ name tag was a load of crap.

“So, I think if it suits you both, I’ll have a cup of tea with Sam and we can get caught up while I get Roy to give you a tour and then we can arrange some smaller interviews with key staff and players?” Sam is beside himself,

“Sounds perfect Ms. Welton.”

“Yep, I’d love a tour.” You accept with a tight smile. 

“Wonderful! Here’s Roy now,” he steps through the open door and is clearly not expecting to see you.

“Thought we had reporters coming?” He grunts.

“We do, Sammy’s here from the Gazette. This is his… apprentice?” Rebecca tells him, “Something like that.” Sam laughs. You take a deep breath before holding your hand out,

“Nice to meet you again.”

“Hmm.” His warm hand engulfs yours and shakes it. The feel of his skin against yours is enough to trigger memories through your brain at top speed - his hand in yours, his hands on your face, your legs, in your hair. You snatch your hand away. “Come on, tour.” You follow him down the stairs and through mazes of rooms, “ticket office, finance,” then out into a wide corridor, “hall of fame.” You stop to look at the collection of memorabilia, making your way slowly past each piece and reading the accompanying cards. You stop fully at the couple of shelves dedicated to him, fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He clears his throat and you follow him deeper into the building. “Locker room, physio, boot room.” He pauses at the boot room. More memories come flooding back. “Remember when we -”

“Yeahhh,” you breathed, “I remember every single time.” You turn away to avoid his gaze.

“We were good together?”

“The best.” You reply quietly, a little sadness creeping in. He pushes the door open and holds it for you to follow. You sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench, both looking straight ahead.

“How have you been?” He asks quietly.

“Better recently. You?”

“Well no one has stolen my fucking watch lately.” He bumps you slightly, there’s the barest hint of amusement in his voice that you latch onto.

“They haven’t tried hard enough then,” you reply with a wry smile. He lets out a breathy laugh that he can’t quite disguise as anything else.

“I wish I could be more fucking angry with you than I am.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. I fucked up. I’ve been angry with myself for as long as I can remember.”

“You really fucked up. I just can’t understand why. I’ve spent this whole time trying to understand why. Because we were good together.”

“I know.” You agree, again. You were good together. You’ve been single since the day you walked out on him, haven’t even kissed anyone else in all that time. He’s the one you think of when you’re alone - he’s the only one you need to think of when you can’t sleep and you let your memories guide your hand down your body. These are obviously things you can’t say aloud, illicit memories you shouldn’t lean on but do. You sigh, he’s so expectant beside you, “How are you so… calm?” you wonder aloud. 

“Therapy,” he mutters with a short laugh.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No. Not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, it helps.”

“Do you remember when you were angling for an invite to Christmas at my mums?” You ask, he frowns a little at the sudden change of subject. You feel him nod next to you.

“That’s when it started, that’s when you started to pull away. I never met any of your family.”

“My brother. You never met him, I never wanted you to meet him. He was there… he’s an addict. He has been for a really long time and we’ve tried everything to help him, everything. He told me that he was in some money trouble with some blokes he brought off. I didn’t have much but I gave him everything I had saved. Then he needed more. And more, and more and I just didn’t know where I was going to get it from, or how to help him. I took the watch, changed my phone number and left.” You pause for a minute to take stock of what you’ve said, you can tell he wants to ask questions but he waits patiently instead. “He was a fucking mess. I made him tell me who he owed and went to see them on my own, told them I’d pay them back myself if they never went near him again. Worked about three jobs, moved back in with mum so I wouldn’t have to pay rent as well, and spent the next year and a half paying them back. I worked 18 hour days, 7 days a week. I literally kept back, like, a tenner a week for myself. I kept a record of how much I paid and when. When we were done I told them so and told them to never come near us again.”

“And?”

“They still turn up occasionally to try and get more out of me, they claim it’s interest.”

“And your brother?”

“We sent him to my uncle’s house up in the North West, he’s been there ever since but he’s clean now. Too scared to come home though.” Roy is quiet for the longest time.

“He must have owed…”

“About 130k. Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty fucking knackered. I was doing early mornings 4-8am at Maccys, then 8.30-5 with Sammy at the paper and then bar shifts til about 10 or 11 pm most nights. Sam saved me, let me get an hour's kip at lunchtime, and brought extra food every day for me to share with him.”

“Fuuuuuck.” He slumps where he’s sat next to you.

“There is something else.” He looks over in disbelief. You reach into your bag, pull out a sleek, matt black box and put it in his hands. 

“Fuck off?” He slides open the box to find his Rolex, in pristine condition - still ticking. “Fuck off.”

“I went to hand it over to them and… I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to have something of yours. I didn’t want to know that I’d done that, sunk that low.” Your voice gets even smaller, “they tried to suggest other methods of payment but…” you feel his shoulders tense, see his fists ball tightly in his lap, “I told them to give me a couple of months and see that I was good for the money, and if I ever missed a payment then we’d have that conversation.” He wants to know if you ever had the conversation, you can feel it in the air between you both,

“You never have to justify yourself to me.” He says firmly.

“I didn’t do it. Never missed a payment. Had to borrow a bit from Sam occasionally when I fell short, but I was never going to have that conversation with them. Never.” The air feels weighty with the tension, like it's risen up from your shoulders where it’s weighed you down for the last three years and is now hovering around you both. You’re amazed you got through it without tears. It’s been so easy to fall into the trap of feeling sorry for yourself over the years and wallow in the self pity of it all. Roy on the other hand is still visibly tense, his knuckles white. You tentatively reach your hand across to cover his, using your fingers to unball his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds worse than he had when he asked the same question a few days ago. His voice is hoarse and tight,

“I couldn’t let them know about you. They’d have ruined you. I had to protect you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I would never have let anything happen to you. We could have sorted it together.” You turn to face him, bringing your other hand to his cheek,

“No love, it was never your problem to fix.”

“If all of this was over eighteen months ago -”

“Don’t ask me why I didn’t come back, Roy. It’s never really over, I couldn’t bring this shit to your doorstep and these dickheads just turn up whenever they think they might get a bit of extra cash out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I took your watch and I’m sorry I walked out on us.” You can hear voices in the corridor outside, your times up and now you both have to be the epitome of professionalism while Roy is interviewed. “I’ll get Sam to interview the team and other staff first, give you some time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been living with this for three years, I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’ve got some happy memories of this place,” you admit, looking around the familiar boot room. “I had the best sex of my life in this very room.” He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I would never expect you to forgive me, Roy, but I truly thank you for giving me the chance to explain.” You pat his hand gently and leave a cool space beside him when you slip through the door to meet up with Sam and Rebecca.

~~~~~~

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 2

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka, (barely a mention of) Josh Kiszka x Male O.C.

Genre: angst, small fluffy brotherly moment between Jake and Danny

Word Count:  1.8k

Warnings: drinking, smoking, capital “A” Awkward reunion between Sam and Danny, painful flashback of unrequited feelings, argument/heated convo between Sam and Danny, miscommunication

A/N: Yes, I did put Austin (Josh’s O.C. boyfriend from Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy) in this even though this series is separate from that universe because I love him so much. Same O.C., different universe.

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

Daniel. He only calls me that when he’s mad at me. He only called me that when he was mad at me. The tension between them is thick enough to cut with a knife, and each set of parents share confused looks at their less than enthusiastic reunion. Josh comes to the rescue, clearing his throat loudly and grabbing Danny’s arm as he passes him, dragging him over to Jake where he stood making the drinks. “C’mon Daniel, start chugging. Jake and I are already three drinks in.”

“Joshua!” Karen’s scolds her oldest son this time, breaking the tangible awkwardness between Sam and Danny as everyone resumes what they had been doing prior to Sam’s entrance.

“What? It’s summer break, day drinking is socially acceptable.” He shoots her a smile as she rolls her eyes, busying herself with helping Sam take the rest of the watermelon to the tables as Josh turns back to the other two men. The smile leaves his face instantly as he gives Danny a concerned look, handing him his drink as Jake works on their refills. “The fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?” Danny takes a sip of his drink, grimacing slightly at the amount of alcohol Jake had put in it.

“The fucking ‘Hey Sam’, ‘Daniel’. Did you guys get in a fight recently or something?”

“No.”

“Then what happened? You guys are best friends, as close as Jake and I are.”

“No, Josh. You, Jake, and Austin are my best friends. I haven’t spoken to Sam since I moved to New York.”

“What?!” The twins speak at the same time, their faces identical looks of shock as their jaws drop.

“Yeah uh, guess we just grew apart.” Or something like that.

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

August 4th, 2017, 3:27 AM; The Wagner House’s roof.

“Promise me you won’t forget me.” Sam’s words are quiet, the crack in his voice loud in the still of the night. Danny glances over at his best friend, the tears in his eyes catching the light of the waxing moon.

“What? Sam, of course I’ll never forget you. How could I?”

“I don’t know, it’s stupid. Just… Jake and Josh left, and now you. You’re all off to bigger and better things than Frankenmuth has to offer, and I’ll just be here. Alone.”

“Come with me then. Come with me to New York, you can enroll at NYU for Spring semester next term, live with Josh and I.”

Sam shakes his head with a halfhearted smile, his tears finally escaping as they roll down his cheeks. “Na, you know I’m not a big city guy. Besides, you guys probably don’t want me there…”

Danny laughs in disbelief. “What are you talking about, Sam? Of course we want you there.”

“I mean it Danny. That’s just… not for me. You guys will move away, find a new life, hell, fall in love. And I’ll be here.”

“Come with me, Sam.” Danny begs, his heart breaking at each word that came from his mouth.

“No, Danny. Why the hell do you want me to come with you so fucking bad?”

Before he can think or try to stop himself, Danny grabs the sides of his face, pulling him towards himself until their lips meet. Hope flickers in his stomach as he feels Sam begin to kiss him back until he abruptly pulls away, out of his touch. He stands quickly, wiping his tears away roughly as he begins to back towards the open window of Danny’s bedroom.

“I- I have to go. Goodbye, Daniel. See you arou- see you when I see you.” And just like that, he’s gone, disappearing into the window. 15 seconds later, he sees Sam jog towards his own house, his front door slamming behind him as Danny can do nothing but sit frozen in shock.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What have I fucking done? Danny pulls his knees to his chest, his head dropping as he begins to sob, truly alone in the dead of the night.

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

“What do you mean you ‘grew apart’?” Jake’s question rips Danny from his memories, who tries to keep his voice even as everything he felt that night resurfaces.

“He didn’t call, didn’t pick up when I called. I guess our schedules just didn’t line up when I visited.”

“You’re telling me you guys literally haven’t spoken, haven’t seen each other since the day you left??” Josh’s eyebrows furrow as he glances back to his youngest brother, anger beginning to show on his face.

“Nope.” Danny takes the opportunity to down the rest of his drink as the twins both look over to Sam, sitting alone trying to ignore them. Trying to ignore Danny.

“What the fuck??” Jake sets down his drink, beginning to start towards Sam. “I’m gonna rip him a fucking new one. That little shit doesn’t get to just ignore his best friend of 11 years just because he moved for college.”

“Jake, wait!” Danny catches his arm, preventing him from continuing on his path. “Please just drop it, it’s fine. We can coexist this summer, and then I’ll go back to New York for school, and it’ll be done and over with. I swear, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Whatever. I’m still gonna be passive aggressive towards that twerp all summer. Little asshat.” Jake shakes his head, anger still visible on his face but slowly diminishing.

“Me too.” Josh says in solidarity, looking sincerely at Danny.

“It’s cause he’s the youngest, thinks he can get away with anything.” Jake grumbles before noticing Danny’s empty cup. “Refill?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” Danny suddenly feels as if he’s being watched, and he looks behind him only to see everyone else talking, immersed in their own conversations and unaware of the one that had just occurred between the three men. That is until he glances over to where Sam sat, seeing his eyes fixed on him with an unreadable expression. The second Danny makes eye contact, he looks away quickly, pretending to be interested in the grass at his feet.

Bastard. If anyone should be staring, it should be me. I just fucking know he wore that outfit to torture me, maybe see if I still had feelings or something. Why the fuck else would he wear those tiny ass blue swim shorts and only do the bottom two buttons of his shirt. It’s fine, Danny. Just don’t look at him the rest of the night, just ignore him and everything will be fine.

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

10:29 PM

Danny’s plan had worked for the most part throughout the night, paying Sam no mind as he tried his best to enjoy his time with his family. It hadn’t exactly been hard as Sam had maybe said ten words all night, preferring to sulk away from the group even as the Kiszka and Wagner parents kept trying to include him in conversations. At around 10 pm, Sam excused himself for the night, grumbling some excuse about being tired only for his brothers to ridicule him about how “early” it was.

As the night had gone on, Danny kept downing every drink Jake made for him, quickly becoming tipsier than he had intended to be. Luckily, the twins kept up with him, drinking just as much (and more than likely, more than Danny had).

“Dannyyyyyyy.” Jake whines at him from his camping chair as they all sat around a small fire pit, toasting marshmallows for S’mores. “Do you still have your old guitar? Wanna play but mines back at my place in Chicago and I don’t wanna ask Sam to use his.”

“Yeah, I do. Hasn’t been used in ages and I lost my tuner when I was packing though.”

“S’fine, I can tune by ear. I’m practically a pro.” He giggles at his own comment, beginning to sway gently in his seat as he watches Danny stand.

He wobbles on his feet for a moment before finding his balance, carefully navigating around the fire. “I gotcha Jake, be back in a second.”

“Yaaaaay.” Jake and Josh cheer in unison, with everyone knowing that Jake’s playing would surely be accompanied by Josh singing.

“Best little brother ever. Love you, Dan.” Jake calls after him as he starts across the yard.

“Love you too Jake!” He can’t wipe the smile off his face as he walks through the side door, remembering how good it felt to be surrounded by his family again. Unfortunately, it’s wiped from his face when he immediately sees Sam sitting on the curb of the sidewalk between their houses smoking a cigarette. He just had to fucking pick somewhere I would have to pass him, didn’t he. Danny tries to make as little sound as possible as he walks behind him, hoping he won’t notice, or if he did, he wouldn’t say anything.

“Hey.” Shit. Danny stops five feet away from Sam as he looks behind him, directly at Danny.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Anger floods Danny as he stares back at Sam in disbelief at the audacity of his question. “What the fuck do you think it means, Samuel? You ignored me for three years and then continued to ignore me the entire night. Don’t pretend we’re all buddy buddy again.”

“You’re the one that kissed me, you don’t get to be mad I needed space.”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE KISSED ME BACK!” The volume of his voice surprises even himself, quickly lowering it as he continues for fear that the others will hear. “I have every right to be angry at you, Sam. You were my best friend. You could have talked to me about it. You should have talked to me. I would have respected your boundaries, and we could have moved on like nothing happened. You don’t get to use the past to be an asshole to me now.”

Sam says nothing as he looks over Danny, his expression once again unreadable. “You grew your hair out long.” His voice is quiet, following his statement with a long drag of his cigarette.

“Yeah. I did. It’s been three fucking years. Maybe you would have known that if you cared enough to answer my calls.”

“It hasn’t been three years.”

“Y’know what, Sam? You’re right. It’s been two years, ten months, and 15 days.” Angry tears threaten Danny’s lash line as he stares Sam down.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve been counting?”

“Of course I have, Sam. Why wouldn’t I count the days since the biggest mistake of my life?” Danny spits the words out, already done with the conversation and using everything in him to keep himself from walking away then and there. Sam says nothing, silence falling between them as he takes another drag from his cigarette. “Unbelievable.” Danny scoffs as he shakes his head, resuming his path to his house and leaving Sam alone on the curb.

“You weren’t the one that made the mistake that night.” Sam whispers, but Danny’s already too far away to hear him. He puts his cigarette out on the asphalt beneath him, his stomach twisting as tears silently roll down his cheeks.

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

taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @theres-a-tvjoe @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @currentlyfangirling10

(The tags have been funky, so if it didn’t work, let me know)

[augustinapril]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲 || Steve Harrington

Synopsis: You love Steve Harrington with all of your heart, you just hope he knows that. And he does, but It wasn’t until Steve witnessed you with his son had he realized just how much he loves you back.

Warnings: gn!reader, descriptions of food and eating, descriptions of reader feeling lonely, fluffyness.

A/n: Some of this is inspired by jade (luveline) so you should definitely follow her if you already don’t. <3. She got me hooked on Steve as a dad so here’s some of that. She also mentioned steve in a headband so that’s in here too. Proofread by @elemental-of-magic !!

Wc: 4.2k

REBLOGS APPRECIATED <3

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the small space of your bedroom, being one of the first things you sense as you begin to wake up.

You turned slightly in your sheets, shirt twisting uncomfortably around your sunbathed body.

You kept your eyes closed for a few minutes, relishing the serenity of the early morning before sitting up and readjusting your t-shirt. You could tell it was old because of its faded texture and design. It wasn’t as soft as it was when you had first gotten it.

There were a series of soft footsteps outside your door, making you try to rub away the tiredness lurking behind your eyes just as your bedroom door was carefully inched open with a quiet creak.

You could see a few small strands of wavy brown hair falling in front of a familiar set of round russet-colored eyes. There was an excited squeak before your door was pushed open.

Sam ran across the little space left between your messy bed and the doorway, a blur of gray passing your vision when he jumped up onto your bed.

“Good morning, Y/n” he whispered, his quiet voice contradicting his excited demeanor. You smiled down at him and opened your arms, an invitation he easily accepted.

He curled up against the side of your body, snuggling into the heat your body radiated. “Daddy’s making breakfast for you,” He whispered quietly, "I need you to pretend to like the bacon, okay? He accidentally burnt it.”

You giggled at the thought of Steve’s panicked face when he realized that the bacon he was cooking wasn't the kind of crispy he was initially aiming for. Steve wasn’t a bad cook, he was actually quite good at it when he tried to be, but everyone had their bad moments when it came to cooking.

You could still hear him now, the slight sizzle of an ingredient you couldn’t quite place.

“I’ll make sure his feelings aren’t hurt because of his burnt bacon,” You reassured Sam, and he nodded to you approvingly before he squirmed out of your embrace, climbing off of your soft, sheetfed mattress.

“C’mon, we have to surprise him,” He continued his whisper, but you were sure Steve had already figured out you were awake.

There was a difference between whispering as someone who’s older and someone who’s a child; sometimes kids can’t quite reach the level of quiet they are hoping for.

You started unfurling yourself from your warm bedding and scooting off of the mattress. Your bare feet hit the ground of your bedroom, making goosebumps spreadacross your skin at the contrast of body warmth and the cold, faux wooden flooring.

Your pajama pants helped just a little bit, the legs being longer than they should, leaving a small pool of fuzzy cloth to surround your feet when you stood up.

Sam wrapped his small hand around yours when you began to exit your room, the sound of a spatula scraping against a frying pan and the brief smell of eggs mixing with the essence of coffee.

Your apartment wasn’t very big, so you reached your kitchen in just a few steps.

You were met with Steve’s back, his broad shoulders wrapped perfectly in his tightly fitted blue shirt. He turned around at the sound of your light footsteps, the warm sun gracing the half of his face that turned in his direction in a soft, honey-colored yellow.

A combed headband kept his sun-dyed hair out of his face. You thought each strand looked like a series of golden threads.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Steve told you with a smile, the pet name making your face heat up. “Are you hungry?”

“Kinda,” You replied as Sam let go of your hand so he could sit back down at the cherry wood coffee table in your living room.

Steve had begun putting a few slices of warm bacon on a plate he had prepared before—and Sam was right, the bacon was burnt—along with a quick scoop of scrambled eggs and some hashbrowns.

Where he had gotten most of these ingredients, you weren’t sure, so you made a mental note to ask him about it later.

He brought the plate over to you, your cup of steaming coffee in the other hand, before he went to grab smaller plate, which you assumed was for Sam.

“Thank you,” You told him, your voice soft and full of love. You weren’t sure if Steve knew just how much these things meant to you. You’ve always been used to giving, instead of getting; yet here Steve was, showing just how much he cares through simple gestures.

It meant everything to you, and you hope Steve knows that.

“So,” He began, swallowing the chewy eggs he had put in his mouth earlier before finishing. “Today is quite the day.”

You grinned at him, “You said his game was at one?”

Steve nodded in confirmation, taking a quick bite of his bacon, a loud crunch following the motion, and quickly made a face of disgust afterward. “Maybe, don’t eat the bacon. . .”

You laughed at him, shaking your head as you started to tease him. “The rest of this is delicious, baby, but how did you manage to burn all of the bacon?”

Steve feigned a look of offense, “I cook you breakfast and this is how you respond?”

You know he doesn’t mean it, but part of you still questions whether you’ve hurt his feelings. He did spend time making all of this for you, waking up early enough to walk down the street to buy the ingredients because you know the eggs were the only thing you had out of everything he cooked.

Steve could read you like a book because it hadn’t taken him long to realize exactly what was running through your head, “I’ve never been good at cooking meat-related foods. They always vary in times and all sorts of other things to be cooked correctly—seriously, I swear there's like ten different ways to cook just one type of meat.”

You listened intently as Steve continued this mini-rant about how there are simply just too many forms of cooking when it came to carnivorous meals. Count on Steve to go on a tangent about things you wouldn’t originally expect a person to talk about.

He was interrupted by Sam, who had just finished his entire plate of food.

Sam was a food lover, that was for sure, especially when it came to grilled cheese; you’d need more than your two hands to count the number of times he’d asked you to grill one for him whenever Steve left him with you so he could work overtime.

Steve told you all the time about how much Sam loved how your sandwiches were cheesy but not overly cheesy.

“Is there any more?” Sam asked, holding his plate in his hands. Steve hadn’t been able to make a lot, not really expecting Sam to want more when he was given the normal amount he usually eats.

“Oh, sorry bubs—”

You cut Steve off, gesturing to your half-filled plate of lukewarm food with a gentle smile. “You can have the rest of mine.”

Sam beamed at you, giving a quick thank you before clambering onto your lap, startling you. You assumed Sam was just going to take the plate and return back to his previous spot, not turn you into a chair. You weren't going to tell him no, though. You'd do anything for this seraphic boy.

Sam took a hold of his small silver fork from earlier, placing his empty plate beside yours before eating what was left of your breakfast.

"You're still coming to my game today, right?" Sam asked you, his mouth full of eggs he had just stuffed in his mouth, making Steve reprimand him for talking with his mouth full.

"Of course I am, sweet boy," You told him, readjusting his position in your lap. His elbows were digging into your side. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Sam shrugged, taking a quick bite from the crispy brown hashbrowns, making sure to fully chew and swallow before taking it. "I dunno. Daddy says he wasn't sure he wants you to go because he says the boys like you more than him."

You smirked, your eyes drifting up to Steve who looked as though someone had told the world his deepest, darkest secret. He's just a little embarrassed. "Oh, is that so?"

"Mhm!"

Steve had gotten past his initial embarrassment before jumping to his defense, "I didn't not mean that literally! Seriously though, I swear those kids like you more than they like me. Do you know how many times a day they'll ask me if you're gonna visit at practice that day?"

You started to chuckle, a delicate sound Steve cherished but he still took the time to pretend umbrage that you were laughing at his incredibly serious feelings.

"Hey don't laugh! I'm their coach and they never get as excited to see me as they see you!"

You shook your head. "They see you every day Steve. They have a far closer connection to you compared to me, they only like me because I bring them snacks."

Steve rolled his eyes at you and crossed his arms, the sleeves of his shirt creasing around his slight muscles. "That is not true. They definitely love you for more than just your food, Y/n."

You shrugged, "Whatever you say, Harrington. You all done, Sam?"

He nodded at you and climbed off your legs, taking his plate to put it into your kitchen sink. Steve kept his eye on him, making sure he didn't accidentally drop the plate and hurt himself.

Then he noticed the small collection of dirty dishes he'd used for cooking, wincing at the sight. "I'll make sure to clean those once we get back." He looked at his watch before standing up. "Sam and I should probably head back home. The both of us need a bath and I may, or may not have, forgotten to pack extra clothes."

You nodded and stood up, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his body. Steve didn't even hesitate to return the embrace, laying his head in the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanned against your bare skin, making you shiver at the feeling.

He placed a gentle kiss on the skin between your shoulder and your neck, the feeling tickling your sensitive skin, making you giggle. You returned the gesture, pecking the underside of his jaw, his scruff itching at your lips.

"I'll see you at one," You told him, pulling him closer to you. Steve always thought you gave the best hugs; he said it was like being wrapped in the softest of freshly baked bread. "Love you, get home safe."

"Love you too," He tightened his arms around you as well before the both of you pulled away. Sam ran up to you, having already gotten his green dinosaur-themed shoes, the bottoms a flashing green from his running start towards your legs.

"See you later, alligator!" He told you, a phrase he'd learned from you a few months after he had learned how to talk.

"In a while, crocodile." You returned, ruffling the hood of his cotton shark pajamas. They were his favorite thing in the world and wore them almost every night.

Sam let go of your legs, Steve grabbing ahold of his hand as the two left your apartment. He made sure to carefully close the door behind him, keeping it from slamming shut.

You stood in your spot and stared at the door they had just walked out, suddenly cold from the lack of human presence in the room, and wrapped your arms around yourself.

You should probably shower too, you thought, quickly walking back to your room for a change of clothes.

———

The sun shining through the four white squares of your bedroom window was far brighter than it had been earlier, this time blinding in color instead of a peaceful shade of golden. It felt warm against the bare skin of your arms, the sleeves of your white shirt barely reaching the middle of your bicep, the sleeve flowing around your arm. It was accompanied by this soft knitted vest you thrifted a few months ago when you needed new clothes but didn’t have the money for actual clothing stores.

It contrasted your white shirt perfectly, the collar of the top placed around the neckline of your vest. There were a few different pairs of pants that went well with the top, so you just decided to go with the one that felt most comfortable to wear. You’d been wanting to wear this outfit for a while but you never had the motivation to put it on, but you thought you should look nice for one of Sam’s most eventful games of his season.

That’s what Steve and Sam told you, anyway. You didn’t know anything about baseball, and no matter how many times Steve tried to explain it to you nothing ever really clicked together. It was like a puzzle but many of the pieces connected everything was missing.

You lifted your non-dominant arm to look at your watch. 10:27 a.m. it read. You let out a huff, standing from your spot on your bed. You needed something to do before you exploded.

You walked into the bathroom and quickly check yourself over in the mirror. You noticed everything. The creases of your eyes, the way your nose stood out against the rest of your face, the redness of your lips from when you had been chewing on them earlier, and the dampness of your still drying hair. You had taken a rather long shower.

You weren’t sure why you felt like this today. There wasn’t really anything bad that happened today, but you felt anxious. There was too much space around you and nothing, no one, to occupy it. You felt pathetic. How was it so hard for you to handle being alone today?

You shook your head as if it would get rid of these thoughts, which made you notice the half-full laundry basket in the corner. You could attempt to do your laundry, you thought before realizing you can’t recall the last time you had washed your clothes.

You took two steps forward, your socks sliding against the pale tiles of the floor when you reached down and grabbed the handles of the basket, your fingers brushing against the series of holes that decorated its sides. You always thought the oddly shaped holes were like spots.

You were sure there were probably miscellaneous clothes scattered around the floor of your apartment, mainly in your bedroom. You exited the bathroom, quickly flicking off the light before walking over towards your room. You were correct. There were clothes on your floor, an old brown jean jacket dangling off the corner of your bed.

You picked up everything you could, placing everything in your basket and coming to the conclusion it was full enough to do a load. You were lucky enough to have your own washer and dryer, which were held in a small room near the bathroom. You turned on the light in the small room, strode towards the two square white machines, and opened the one on the right side of you.

Hadn’t taken long for you to put detergent into the machine, start the water, and then place your clothes in as the water ran. Once you started it, you realized this was only a temporary fix to your problem. Now you had to wait for the washer to be done.

Almost as if life sensed your slight distress, there was a loud knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, making your anxiety spike for a split second before a familiar voice rang out from behind the slab of wood. “Y/n? It’s Nancy.”

You walked towards your door, opening it for the girl you had grown close to over the past decade. You thought she looked magnificent, having grown out her hair again, a mess of brown curls cascading down her back, stopping about halfway. “Hello, Nance. What are you doing here?”

She took off her shoes after she had entered, a pair of nicely kept white vans. How she kept them white, you weren’t sure. How anyone could keep their shoes white was a question you have yet to discover the answer to. “I got off work early and didn’t have anything to do,” She answered, placing her newly bought purse on the table in your kitchen. “Thought I’d come over here, chat with you. We haven’t been able to recently, and I’m embarrassed to say I miss your company.”

You smiled at her words. “Truth be told, I’ve missed your company too.”

She grinned, taking a glass from your cupboard and filling it with tap water, quickly noticing the collection of dirty dishes filling your sink and lingering around your countertops. “That’s a lot of dishes for one person,” She teased, knowing that many of these dishes were the cause of two other people. “Did you let Steve cook you breakfast?”

“How’d you guess?”

“You’re cleaner when it comes to the messy dishes,” She commented, “No offense to Steve, he’s a great cook, but sometimes when cooking unsupervised he struggles to grasp the concept of order.”

“Cooking takes order?” You asked her, striding to her side and staring at dishes in your sink. There was more than what Steve used this morning, some dishes from the days before you hadn’t taken the time to clean.

“It goes a lot nicer if there is a slight sense of order,” Nancy added, rolling up her sleeve and starting to run some warm water in your sink. “I’ll help you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to Nance—“

Nancy interrupted you, “I know I don’t have to but I want to. I wash you dry?”

“No seriously, Nancy, Steve said he’d wash them once he got back.” You informed her. You didn’t want your friend to do something that was gonna be done later.

She shrugged, quickly adding soap to the other sink before turning the faucet to run water on top of it. “It’d be better to get them done now anyway.”

You thought about it, realizing you weren’t going to be able to change her mind, so you nodded and grabbed a dish towel from the kitchen drawers right next to the sink. Nancy was a stubborn person, always had been. You wouldn’t be able to steer her from anything she’d caught scent of, which explains how she was one of the main editors in a really popular magazine. She wrote all sorts of articles about important events, often telling details of a story no one else had been able to get. You admired her for that.

Which reminded you of this article she was currently working on, “Have you been able to get anything else on that story on that house that burnt down? Do you know how the family’s doing?”

Nancy grabbed ahold of the plate Sam had eaten from earlier, holding the glass circle of red carefully before beginning to scrub away syrup residue still lingering. “Yeah. Turns out the fire started because a candle had been left burning overnight. Everybody was fine, including their dog, who was an absolute sweetheart. She loved me.”

You grinned, “I don’t blame the dog. You're a pretty lovable person.”

“Oh, hush.” The both of you laughed, talking about miscellaneous topics the entirety of the half hour it took you both to finish the dishes. The two of you went from the kitchen to the soft brown cushions of your couch.

“Wait, so your telling me Steve had a headband on?” Nancy asked you. Something about the look on her face made you think that she was probably picturing him with one of those chunky headbands instead of the one he had.

That thought made you loath, but you were he’d still look pretty cute with those headbands too. “Mhm. Sam walked me out of my room and there he was. It was a combed headband, though, but he looked quite adorable.”

“Oh I’m sure he just looked adorable,” Nancy laughed, shaking her head. She couldn’t see Steve looking cute in a headband.

You took a moment to look at your watch, realizing it was 12. You should probably eat lunch, and you’d know you’d have to leave soon so you could see both Sam and Steve before his game. “Wanna get lunch?”

Nancy looked at her watch and nodded, standing up. “McDonald’s?”

“Where else?”

By the time you both left the house, hopped into Nancy’s car, and got lunch; it was almost time for you both to leave for Sam’s game. It took you a second to remember where exactly you had to go. The both of you arrived there by 12:45, and Steve saw the two of you instantly.

He grinned from his spot at the side of the field, waving to you. He had the biggest smile on his face, his eyes closed because of the sun. You grinned, admiring him for a few seconds before you ran over to him.

You weren’t even standing there for a second before Steve wrapped his arms around your body, rocking your bodies side to side. “There you are, sweetheart.

You felt him kiss the side of your head, “Hello, Stevie.” You whispered to him, a giggle rupturing from your throat when you felt his scruff tickle your cheek. Trying to tug the sound from your lips once more, he nuzzled his head closer, making you try to squirm away at the feeling.

The two of you were interrupted by an excited shout a few feet away. “Y/N!” You pulled away from Steve, turning to Sam who was sprinting at you as fast as his legs would let him. “Y/n you’re here!”

You grinned at him, crouching down to catch him in a hug before lifting him up, not caring about the dirt that was probably transferring from Sam’s shirt and pants to yours. “I told you I would, Sweet boy.”

“Are you excited to watch me play?” Sam asked, his face full of anticipation for your answer.

His excitement always managed to bring a smile to your face that nothing else could and you nodded, “I've been looking forward to seeing you all day. Are you ready for your game?”

He nodded vigorously, “I'm way readier than anyone here! I'm a little scared, though.”

You were pretty sure ‘readier’ wasn't a word. “What are you scared about?”

“I really want us to win, and I don't want to disappoint anyone if I don't.” Your heart broke at his words.

“Oh, sweet boy. No one is going to be disappointed in you, I promise. Don’t ever think that.” You placed a gentle yet firm kiss against his head, reassuring him of the truthfulness behind your words. “Now you go have fun with your team, okay?”

Sam nodded when you placed him down, tightening his arms around your shoulders once more in a hug before he ran off.

———

Steve had never loved anyone in the way that he loved you; none of his past partners had ever treated Sam the way you do. Maybe it was because you'd known him since the day he was born or because you’d been friends with Steve since your senior year, but there was just something about you he couldn't have with anyone else.

You didn't define him by his seven-year-old son, never making a big deal when he had to cancel any plans on you because Sam had come down with a cold. Instead, you would show up at his small, two-bedroom house with homemade soup and some tea that was sweet and flavorful enough for a kid to drink.

He saw just how much you loved not just him, but Sam. The way you were tender with him this morning; let him hold your hand when the both of you walked out of your room, giving him the rest of your food because he was still hungry, returning whatever forms of affection he showed you with just as much love.

He also saw it just now, with how you didn’t even hesitate to catch Sam in a hug, kissing his head when he expressed his fear, the look on your face showing how the boys words affected you almost as heavily as they affected him.

Steve had fallen for you. Hard. He had this love that swelled every second he was around you, increasing in size and passion every time he felt the warmth of your body near his.

He swears he was gonna explode when he saw you cheer for Sam whenever it was his turn to play. Cheering louder than anyone on the crowd when he’d run from base to base, feeding the boy words of encouragement that fueled his reason to run quicker.

And he saw the pure joy on your face when his team had won the game. Sam had run towards you once more, yelling about how they did it, how they beat the game, and how happy he was that you were there to see him do it.

And the way you glowed in joy for him, telling him just how proud you were and he had played so well. Steve had realized at that moment, he didn't want anyone else but you.

[daenerysstormreborn]

@cleverelaena88 hi I was the anon in the post this is from. I wanted to start a new thread instead of clogging the notes of someone else’s post. I wrote up an essay explaining it under the cut if you’re interested but it boils down to this:

1. I started thinking for myself about her place in the narrative.

2. I let go of petty feelings coming from my wounded inner child.

3. I realized I could continue to think for myself and that liking this characters doesn’t mean I’m aligning myself with objectionable things other fans of the character have said.

The way I feel about Sansa changed for a lot of reasons. I walked back on my stance that she isn’t important because I realized I wasn’t really thinking for myself and was just going along with the things often said by other fans of my favorite characters. If I remember correctly, she has as many POV chapters as Bran. The Vale plot is important to the story and it’s clearly not just relevant to Littlefinger or else… why would Sansa be involved? She didn’t need to be a POV character for the story to work but she is because she’s important. If Sansa was just supposed to be a “camera” to show the viewer what’s happening in KL and later the Vale, why did start off as a POV character in places where other POV characters were as well? She’s the only POV character in the Vale in AFfC, but if that was her only importance, why was she a POV character prior to going to the Vale?

Currently, she does feel pretty “cut off” from the main plot threads—the IT, the Others, and the dragons. At least where I’m at, halfway through AFfC. And I think that’s what makes some people think she isn’t important. But I kind of thing that’s evidence that she IS. She’s away from all of these major plot elements and is not in close proximity to other POV characters who are involved in these three elements, unlike characters like Arya, who are technically disconnected from those three elements, but are in close proximity to other POV characters (i.e., Arya encounters Sam in Braavos). Given that, why on earth would George continue to feature her POV if her story specifically was not important?

As for why she’s become one of my favorites, that’s a bit different. This is a bit personal, so forgive me for it, but I think it’s interesting insight. I had to get past this wounded inner child aspect of myself, for one. I was an ugly duckling. I grew up being mocked for being a chubby, socially awkward kid with a snaggle tooth and a lisp. I internalized the idea very early that in order to be loved and socially accepted, I must be beautiful. I have auburn hair and amber eyes. I also received this message that to be beautiful, I should be blonde and more importantly have blue/green eyes. Seeing how just about every example of beautiful women in media were blonde with light eyes, and how the vast majority of female protagonists were beautiful, I developed quite the complex about this. It started sending a message to me that these stories were not for me. The romance, the fantasy, everything these characters got was not and never would be for me because I wasn’t beautiful like them. I resented any female protagonist for which their beauty was a huge focal point because of a deep envy. I wished more than anything to be beautiful. Every birthday, every star, every dandelion. What I really wanted was love and social acceptance, but I was too young to understand that.

Then something weird happened as I grew up. I became beautiful. I don’t want to sound vain or self-congratulatory, but it’s relevant here. The vast majority of people now consider me to be extremely good-looking. This started around age 16. I got what I wished for. People started treating me differently. I got what I wished for. And it sucked. I’ll get back to that. But I did and still do feel like that little ugly duckling. I’m slowly healing, but it’s hard. I still felt this deep resentment and envy. It is starting to go away but comes up now and again. And as petty as it sounds, yes, part of me resented this character for being beautiful. Of course, I think every single female POV character is called pretty or beautiful aside from Brienne. Daenerys and Cersei are also considered to be extremely beautiful, but it’s not as relevant to Dany because the whole dragon thing takes more precedence and Cersei’s envy and vindictiveness are more prominent me (plus she’s an overt antagonist, and I don’t mind so much when the character is one of the bad guys, for some reason). But for Sansa, her beauty and grace seem to be major focal points in how other characters see her.

I said before that becoming beautiful sucked. I resented everyone around me for treating me differently because I was beautiful. And I realized that it does NOT offer me the guaranteed acceptance and love and safety that I believed it would as a child. Men will behave in different evil ways to both ugly and beautiful women. Being beautiful started to feel like this curse. It became a performance that I have to maintain because deep down I fear that beauty is all I have and/or that it’s the only reason anyone really values me. I developed an eating disorder about it. I got exactly what I wished for but not what I wanted.

Here’s how that’s relevant. I started drawing parallels and antiparallels between Sansa and Dany. I think it’s very interesting to compare the two but I seldom see that discussed unless it’s to pit them against one another. As I started to make these parallels I realized that many of the reasons I connect with Dany also apply to Sansa and started doing some self-analysis about why I didn’t connect with Sansa in the same way. I started to sort out the whole wounded inner child thing and realized it had been preventing me from acknowledging and appreciating any depth in Sansa’s character and really feeling for her. I realized that she too wished for something so very badly when she was a naive kid. Something she thought she wanted desperately. And she got it, and it was horrible. I found that I can now really emotionally connect with this character. Perhaps she too fears that her beauty and grace are the only reasons people like her. And I can definitely relate to the feeling of being sexualized and objectified by adults and peers alike. I know how it feels to have to smile and nod and lie to appease poisonous men. I really can connect with her emotionally in ways I couldn’t before because of my own personal hangups.

Finally, I just stopped caring about what other fans think. I have seen Sansa fans saying things I find objectionable, like proclaiming that Daenerys and Arya’s arcs are patriarchal or excusing the way Sansa treated Arya (although I don’t think their relationship is as cut and dry as “they simply don’t love eachother”). Plus there’s just a lot of infighting between Sansa fans and Dany and Arya fans and it made me keep my distance. I also am not a Jonsa fan and it seems many Sansa fans are in fact Jonsa fans. I used to hate the ship but was just being immature honestly. I’m neutral now and I think it’s interesting to read Jonsa metas because they present an entirely different way to interpret the story. It is fun for me to see what other people take away from the text. I was also holding myself back because I’ve seen Jonsas misconstrue the text and omit parts of passages and important context in ways that seem intentionally misleading, which really bothers me. But I realized I’m biased. We all have our own confirmation biases when reading the series and I’m sure other fans do the exact same thing. I was just noticing it more with Jonsa because it’s not a theory I subscribe to. But enjoying Sansa’s character does not mean I need to align myself with every single other Sansa fan, which seems obvious when said so plainly, but we often subconsciously develop this sense of group microidentities that we fear betraying.

This is all very specific to me as an individual of course but I had fun with all the introspection and think it’s an interesting case study about why a person may resent a specific character and why they might change their minds. Thanks for reading!