#but his brain was that of Greg. a dog. he still has his dog head but hes kinda just forced into this new body that's nothing like the og

[gentlefangz]

sometimes i get the horrible urge to say it's ironic im a dogthing who liked dogman before it realized it was a dogthing because its like dogman himself made me a dogthing and it takes all my courage to NOT say it

[moonlightspencie]

tolerate it

Description: listen to the song by taylor, that’ll tell ya

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: it’s just angst lolll, hotch is kind of a dick, age gap relationship (hotch in his early forties, reader in mid twenties)

Word Count: 2k

a/n: based on the song obvi, but also this post from @greg-montgomery bc that idea had been rattling in my brain and ouchie but i’m glad other people had the same thought 👹

also: jack doesn’t exist in this universe for the sake of my brain

Befriending an FBI agent didn’t seem like a plausible next step when I decided to take a job as a barista. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was luck, though whether it was good or bad was hard to decipher.

It started out good.

We sat across from one another after my shift was over. I wouldn’t tell him that hanging out at my job after I was done wasn’t my number one choice purely for the fact that he smiled soft and sweet when he asked. We needed to talk anyways.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, to be honest,” he mentioned, a shy smile on his face.

“Why is that, do you think?” I questioned.

“I have… A past. There’s been so much that’s happened to myself and my family. I have a demanding job. Dating, even the concept of it, has been hard since—“

He stopped, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he looked down at the drink in his hands. I could tell something heavy was weighing on him, and it hurt to see him looking so down. Granted, we hadn’t known one another for long, but he’d become a close friend. I knew some of his tells, at least.

He looked back up at me, finding nothing but sincerity when he saw me looking back at him.

“My wife, uh, she,” he paused, clearing his throat. “She didn’t just… pass away. She was killed. It was by someone my team was hunting down, and it was hard. I haven’t been looking to date since then.”

I nodded. “I understand, and I don’t want to pressure you. But, if you decide that you do feel ready, I’ll be here.”

He smiled, taking one of my hands from across the table. I swallowed down butterflies, trying to ignore the softened look on his face when he watched me.

“You deserve better. You should be with someone less busy. Younger.”

“I don’t mind a busy working schedule, and everyone has baggage. If you don’t want this, that’s okay. But I do,” I confessed, noting the blush on his cheeks as I spoke. “It’s all about communication, isn’t it? Making sure that if things are hard or messy or frustrating that you talk it out?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I just—“

“Hey,” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Again, if you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

He let out a breath. “Thank you.”

I watched him for a while in the silence. He still had that cute frown on his face.

“I think the problem now is that I don’t want to wait,” he said at last.

I smiled back at him, taking his hand as he pulled me out of the little cafe.

Things started out so well. He’d give me a shy smile every time he showed up at my door to take me out somewhere. He’d call each time he was able to on cases. His sweet demeanor and hidden soft heart stole me over.

It was an easy ‘yes’ when he asked me to move in.

It was easy being with him for so long. But things always change. Sometimes for the worse.

A kiss hello and goodnight became the only times I’d feel his lips on mine. He’d work on what he needed to, sure to tell me any time I asked about what he was doing that I wouldn’t understand it.

I’d stand around, waiting for a drop of attention like a kicked dog. It never mattered. Conversations always turned into short arguments shut down by his cool, even-toned voice telling me I was overreacting. Who was I to think that I knew anything?

“You’re throwing a tantrum,” he huffed, annoyed.

I paused, staring at him in confusion. He stared back at me blankly. Of course he couldn’t be bothered to show any kind of emotion outside of a snap in his voice.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, shaking his head.

He continued packing his thing to head to the bureau, and I once again stood alone, watching him. A mere inconvenience in his morning routine.

“If this is all in my head, just tell me,” I said quickly. “But it feels like you’re intentionally ignoring me. Like I’m some kind of child to you.”

He stared at me for a moment, his face indecipherable.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You didn’t ask me a question. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask.”

He left after that, leaving me speechless in the living room, staring at the door of the apartment. I busied myself all day, trying not to think about it. Days when I was at work while he was felt fine enough. Not good, but fine.

Days when I was alone while he was out working though… I felt like a kid waiting for a parent to return.

I was in the kitchen with a glass of wine when he finally got home. He silently walked around the space. I’m sure he took off his jacket. Undid his tie. Set down his things and locked up the gun. Usual routine that I had no part in and probably never would.

He finally walked into the kitchen behind me, not bothering to say a word as he got a glass of water. Of course, I’d be the first to speak up.

“Are we going to talk about today?”

I turned, finally looking at him. He sipped at the glass of water, simply raising his brows in question. I furrowed mine in response, sick of him trying to shove away any semblance of communication.

“What about it?” he asked.

“What about it? We were kind of in the middle of talking when you left.”

“And we finished it.”

“No, we didn’t.”

He sighed hard. Quiet again. Brooding and stoic Aaron Hotchner. Never having time for anyone’s bullshit.

I wouldn’t have guessed my feelings were more shit on the pile to him. Guess I should’ve known better.

I looked at the plates that remained in the drying rack. Pretty and clean. I’d spent all afternoon doing the dishes, making sure they’d sparkle. If I couldn’t catch his eye anymore, maybe if he saw his own reflection in the plates, he’d realize I did something for him. It might remind him I was still here. In fact, the silverware was even cleaned and polished until they absolutely gleamed. I could probably blind myself with a spoon if I angled it from the sun just right. And I’d do it if he asked me to. Just to see him smile at me as I blinked back at him, trying to see correctly again. Three hours I’d spent on such a small task. Three hours while he sat in his office. I didn’t even know what he did in there, but I knew he’d been finished with what he actually needed to do for the day. I hoped that he might at least come home to see if I was still in the apartment. Would he even miss me if I had decided to leave? I didn’t know. I knew I could at least make him miss having clean dishes.

I moved swiftly, reaching for one of the plates. I held it in my hands, letting the weight of it weigh me down a little. I noticed how the kitchen light bounced off of the surface. Then, I looked at him.

He still had that stupid frown on his face.

Usually a moment like this would require that the person holding the glass wasn’t thinking straight. An accidental drop, leading to scary, sharp edges of glass all over the floor. Shock. Maybe embarrassment. A jump backwards. I did none of the above when I tossed down the plate onto the kitchen tile. It hit the ground with force, sending shards all across the floor in between us. The pieces shone up at his bewildered face as a taunt. They sparkled in my direction like a gleam of light in playful eyes that were daring me to do it again. And it was fucking cathartic.

I took another, ignoring the call of my name trying to stop me, and slammed it on the ground right on top of the remains of the first.

“Stop,” he said, voice raising just below a full yell.

I smiled to myself, holding the third of four in my hands. I couldn’t stop staring at the wreckage I’d already caused, but I let my eyes wandered in his direction.

“You want a tantrum?” I asked, holding the third plate just above my head. “I’ll give you a tantrum. What was it that you said to me? Uh… Oh! Right: ‘all you had to do was ask’.”

I let the plate drop, debris flying all around my feet, thought none of it was sharp enough to do harm. Maybe that was a part of the fun. The plates were thick and heavy. They weren’t made to break. But when they did, it was loud and hard and didn’t hurt me one bit. In any sense of the word.

As I reached for the final plate in the rack, he started circling to get behind me. He grabbed my arm, trying to stop me from letting it hit the floor. He turned me towards him.

“Stop. You’re acting like a child.”

I merely nodded. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Fuck off, Aaron.”

I whipped my hand hard enough to send the final plate flying. I wrenched myself from his grip after I heard the satisfying crash, stalking past him and out of the kitchen.

He stomped off after me, catching me as I started putting a few things in my bag in the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

I laughed humorlessly. “Right. Like you care.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

Silence again.

“You’re everything to me, Aaron,” I said, staring straight back at him. “You were everything and your feelings were everything and what am I to you? Huh?”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“And that’s it? Just a commodity. Someone who sits all nice and quiet when you get home so that you don’t feel completely alone. Someone who’ll light the candles and wash the dishes and try over and over again to love you. All for nothing.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s more than fair.”

“You’re acting so—“ he stopped himself, voice raising again.

“So what, Aaron? Immature?”

“That’s not—“

“Sorry, I totally forgot about the age difference. It’s not like you remind me every single time we get into any kind of argument,” I argued back, venom in my voice. “You’re so much older and wiser. You must always know better.”

He scoffed. I stayed for a moment, still squared up emotionally. I finally went back to packing a few things when I realized he wasn’t responding to me. He watched quietly as I went, fists balled up at his sides, almost convincing me that he actually cared.

He called my name again, this time much more quietly. I ignored him, zipping up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. He said it again, a little louder.

“What?” I snapped.

“Where are you going?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe my sister’s place.”

He sighed. “Are you coming home?”

I paused, looking at him as I stood in the doorway. He dropped his shoulders, finally letting his guard down.

“I don’t know. What happens if I don’t? If I were to pick up and leave and never look back?” I asked, steeling my face again. “I don’t think it’d make much of a difference to you.”

“Yes, it would.”

“Then figure out if you really want me in your life. Then I’ll give you an answer. Until then, I’m done giving everything to you all for me to turn up completely drained.”

“I love you,” he said, trying to convince himself just as much as he tried convincing me.

I nodded, heading for the door. I was done trying to convince myself I didn’t need him. I didn’t need empty words anymore. I had the truth: I found it in a neatly packed bag and a pile of broken dishes on the kitchen floor.

[lisbeth-kk]

May 13 prompt: rest (thanks for the tag @notjustamumj @calaisreno

His dependency

Sherlock’s irritated and rude to everyone at the crime scene. It’s the fourth murder in as many days, and he hasn’t slept, just nodded off in cabs when he was too exhausted to think straight. Lestrade has brought him tea he’s forgotten to drink, and the occasional energy bar, which he at least has nibbled at. His mood won’t lift until John’s back from Scotland. For the life of him, he can’t remember when that is. He doesn’t even know which day it is. 

“John’s coming home tonight,” Lestrade says, as if he’s suddenly become a mind reader.

Sherlock rolls his eyes at him, but his shoulders relaxes, and his mind sharpens as if given an injection of a stimulating drug. His dependency of having John at his side when on a particularly difficult or exhausting case, should be ridiculous. Instead Sherlock finds it reassuring and calming. When John’s there, he thinks better, he doesn’t care about the comments from Anderson or Donovan, he’s doing his job to perfection. After the first time John praised him at a crime scene, Sherlock’s been addicted to said praise. It makes him feel appreciated, valued, and respected. Those things have been lacking in his life before John. His phone buzzes.

I’ll be home at six. Will you be there, or running the streets with Greg?

Sherlock beams at his phone, takes a look around the room once more, and suddenly the fog dissipates. He crouches down and looks intently at the carpet with his magnifying glass. 

“Yes!” he shouts triumphantly, before sending off a reply to John.

Going home in a few minutes. Hurry! SH

“Lestrade! You’ll want to look at the dog walker. Those dog hairs are similar to the other crime scenes, but neither of the victims had a dog which they belonged to.”

Without waiting for Lestrade’s complaint and nagging about paperwork, Sherlock heads for the curb outside the house and hails a cab. He sends a text to Angelo, asking for a delivery of some antipasti that evening. After a shower he tries to get some sleep, but he’s too excited. The violin keeps him occupied until he hears familiar steps on the stairs. Seconds later his arms are tightly wrapped around John, and he relaxes completely. His knees buckle and John catches him before he sags to the floor.

“Bedroom,” John orders.

“But John. I’ve ordered food from Angelo’s,” Sherlock protests weakly, but lets John steer him against their bedroom.

He collapses on the bed and John pulls the duvet over him.

“You haven’t slept for days, love. The signs are clear as day. Now you’ll have a good rest, and you can tell me all about how brilliant you’ve been while I was away later, yeah?” John murmurs and kisses his forehead softly.

“Stay for a bit,” Sherlock mutters sleepily.

John strokes his hair, just the way Sherlock loves, and it’s the last thing he remembers before his brain stills.

@totallysilvergirl @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @missdeliadili

[atomic-lullaby]

random ramble under the cut . whatver

ok dogman as a concept is so.. frightening? in a couple of ways. a police officer and a dog almost die in an explosion, to the point the cops head and the dogs body are so mangled theyre described as "dying," and the nurse's solution is to sew the dogs head onto the cops body, which everyone (including the cop) is happy about. first of all, the impossibility of this procedure working aside, officer knight dies either way. its not like theyre saving his life, just greg. second of all, just.. imagine. imagine seeing that. not in the cute pilkey style, but in real life. a police officer with a dogs head sewn onto his neck, with the stitches still visible no less. and nobody questions this? nobody mourns the loss of officer knight? everyone immediately accepts dogmans existence? is that not terrifying? what about knight's friends, did he not have any? its not like greg has any of knights memories or mannerisms, he's still just a dog and dogman's brain is all greg. and on that note.. he's a dog. this is emphasized a lot. he acts like a dog, gets angry about dumb things like a dog, and jumps on people like a dog. all whilst having the body of what can only be assumed as a 6 foot something, insanely muscular mountain of a man. so, Knight:

-he is muscular -"kung fu grip" -"these boots were made for kickin" probably implies this man does not skip leg day -generally just implied to be/described as very physically strong -probably like 6'5 on a good day

Greg: -has all the cognitive ability of a dog, while also thought to be intelligent ("thinky") -and the teeth of a dog, you know, descendant of the wolf, an animal with a mouth designed to allow it to hunt and kill animals even bigger than they are

Put that together and you get dogman. so, as well as as a concept, dogman as a character is terrifying. that is someone you dont want to be on the bad side of. genuinely, every villain in the books is insanely lucky that dogman is a no-kill hero, (and that they live in a kids book universe) because he is the kind of man who could tear you apart in 5 different and unique ways.

[dumdumsun]

The Loveliest Lies of All

A/N: Accidentally made this the longest chapter in the entire story. Oops ❤️

Warnings: slight violence

Word Count: 5282

—————————————

Chapter Three: Schooltown Follies

“I don’t know who she is or how she is, or when or why she is

But as for where she is, she is where we will go

To Adelaide, to Adelaide

Come on and join the Adelaide Parade-”

“No-”

“Adelaide, to Adelaide

Let’s go to Adelaide’s house…”

Greg’s joyful marching melted into a simple walk at the flat ending of his song, glancing up at Scout with raised brows. “I need to fix that last part, but that’s the idea.”

“Yeah, of course.” Scout chuckled.

“So,” He pointed to each person as he addressed them. “Beatrice, you sing the high part. Wirt, you sing the really high part.”

Wirt raised a brow. “What?”

“And Scout will direct us.”

Scout hummed with squinted eyes. “Conduct.”

“Scout will conduct us. And-”

Beatrice sighed irritably, causing Scout to frown in confusion. “No one is singing anything anymore. And Wirt, keep moving.”

The group turned to said teen, who had stopped a few paces away to kneel down, tying the laces of his mismatched shoes. “But I-I have to- ugh. Alright…” He stood to his feet defeatedly and joined them again.

“But we have to do something fun.” Greg insisted.

“You know, we really don’t,” Beatrice shrugged. “We can just keep walking silently, you know? And- ugh. Wirt, let’s go! Come on!”

Wirt stood to his feet again. “Sorry, sorry!”

Scout’s irritation towards their winged companion only seemed to grow the more she watched Beatrice push her friends around. Personally, she was not a fan of Debby Downers, and Beatrice happened to be the downest Debby she’d ever met in a short amount of time. Greg tried to insist on the group having fun on their journey yet again, but the bird cut him off. “Greg, don’t you wanna be more like your brother? Just always doing what you’re told-”

“Huh-”

“Just a pathetic pushover who relies on others to make all his decisions?”

“Hey! What?! I’m not a pushover.”

“Hold on, Wirt. Let me get to my point.”

Wirt scoffed, unsuspecting. “Fine.”

“See, Greg? No willpower whatsoever.”

Embarrassed to have been so gullible, Wirt turned forward with a huff. Scout sighed and moved closer to the boy’s side. “Greg, don’t listen to her. I think it’s important you have fun on this journey,” Her eyes then snapped up to Beatrice. “And you shouldn’t discourage a child like that.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “He needs to learn from a young age that he can’t be like… this forever.”

“Like what? Like a normal, sweet, loving kid? A-And what do you even know about kids, huh?”

“What do you know about kids?”

“I know enough.” Scout crossed her arms and turned her head forward.

Sighing, Beatrice flew to the boy’s other side. “The world is a miserable place, Greg. I know it doesn’t sound fun, but life isn’t fun.”

Exhaling deeply, Greg frowned sadly. “Then I’ll do what I need to do, I guess…”

As Beatrice continued on whatever negativities she had focused so intently on, Scout felt a tug at her jacket. Glancing down, she saw Greg standing still, holding the tea kettle on his head, his frog lounging on top. Slowing her pace to a stop, she quietly joined him. “Greg? What’s wrong, bud?”

He grinned and took one hand off his “hat”, slipping his fingers between hers and leading them through an opening within the woods. “We need to do our part to make the world a better place!”

“We couldn’t have at least told Wirt? He’ll be worried about you.” She glanced over her shoulder, Wirt’s figure growing smaller the farther they ran. Greg hummed before shrugging.

“Wirt trusts you, right? He knows we’re in the best hands in the whole world.”

“Oh? You mean these hands?!” Scout mischievously grinned and scooped him into her arms, huffing as she struggled to keep the giggling boy up. Perhaps she had underestimated his weight. It had been awhile since she’d carried him.

Greg cackled, holding his frog close to his chest before his eyes caught something in the distance. “Whoa! What’s that?” He pointed forward. Scout’s laughter quieted as they reached a clearing. Stepping out of the shadowed wood, she moved closer to the small red house, a giant bell hanging above it to alert those around of the time.

“Ah, this, Greg, is a schoolhouse. The oldest of these date back to-”

“School?!” He scoffed. “Not today!”

Scout chuckled and set him down on his feet. “Well, I think we should check it out. If you hate school that much, go find a log to sit on and wait for me.”

“Yes, sir!”

He saluted before scampering off. She watched him for just a second to make sure he hadn’t tripped and fallen before turning back to the schoolhouse. From where they had just come from, she could hear Wirt’s calls. “Greg! Scout! Greg?!”

“Over here!” She called back, smiling softly as he and Beatrice emerged from the darkness. She pointed off to the side as they approached her. “Hey, so Greg went that way to find a place to wait. He’ll be fine. But I do wanna check out this place. You know, maybe find someone else to help us sooner than some rando lady with supposed powers?”

Scout ignored the glare Beatrice sent her way. Wirt only blinked at her, so she continued. “Anyway, we only need one person to go in. Which one of us should go inside and who should stay with Greg?”

Yet again, she received no response, just a blank stare from her friend. Glancing between him and the bird, the latter only shrugging, Scout rapidly blinked. “What is this? Why are you staring at me like that? Is this a game?”

…..

“Okay, Greg will be fine. Let’s both go.” She threw her hands up in the air before spinning on her heel and leading them up to the schoolhouse. “But you’re gonna need to talk soon.”

As if that had flipped a switch, Wirt nodded and strode to her side. “Right. Okay.”

Scout widened her eyes at him as they stood in the opened doorway of the house. Tearing her gaze from him, she settled it on the room inside. Standing in front of a blackboard decorated with delicate and cursive calligraphy was presumably the teacher, her cheeks red and rosy and the nest of chocolate brown hair was put into a bun at the top of her head. She looked something straight out of a children’s book. Before her was the… class.

They were animals. Literal animals in school clothes. Cats, bunnies, pigs, dogs, the likes, all dressed as 1800’s school students. In fact, Scout observed, every stop they made felt as if they had travelled two hundred years back. The attire, the lack of technology, the use of language. It was all a dead giveaway.

“Excuse me?” The teacher softly called. “Please, take your seat, children. You’re late. You know the rules, ‘Once the bell has rung, class has begun’.” She gestured to the saying on the board.

Beatrice snickered. “Oh, sorry, everybody. Sorry. No, this boy doesn’t have a brain. He can’t learn anything. Let’s go, Wirt. Come on! Here, boy!” She called and whistled to Wirt as if he were a dog. Scout fumed at the nerve of this bird, opening her mouth to tell her off before Wirt spoke up for himself.

“What? Did you say something? I can’t hear you because I’m too busy doing what I’m told.” He shrugged before walking into the room, taking a seat at one of the desks.

“Atta boy, Wirt.” Scout chuckled and took the seat beside him.

Beatrice hurriedly flew over to him. “What? What are you- No, no. Let’s go.”

“Oh, no. See, I’m a pushover, remember? I have to do what she tells me to do.” He shrugged. Beatrice widened her eyes and turned to Scout.

“Hello?! Knock some sense into his conehead!”

Scout quietly shushed her, her amused smile directed forward at the blackboard. “I’m trying to focus on class.”

“Wirt, your brother could be… in trouble somewhere!”

Tapping on the window just beside Wirt gained the trio’s attention. Greg stood outside, as happy as can be, waving at them with a smile. Then, in a mocking manner, he pointed to each “student” in the room before giving a thumbs-down. Scout lovingly shook her head as he giddily ran after his croaking frog, cheering and whooping as he went. Beatrice let out a deep and long sigh. “Bluebirds have a short lifespan. You three are literally killing me every moment I’m forced to spend with you.”

Scout quietly laughed when Wirt simply let out an “oh”.

“Young man,” The teacher sternly started. “I will not stand for such nonsense in my class room,” A shadow casted over her face as her expression turned gloomy. “I got enough nonsense from that no good, two-timing, low-down handsome man of mine! Oh, Jimmy Brown, why did you have to leave me so-”

Wirt and Scout glanced at each other as if to ask if this were actually happening.

“-And now with my father threatening to close the school and that wild gorilla on the loose, why, Jimmy, I just have one thing to say…”

What they hadn’t expected was for her to turn around with a bright smile and begin singing,

“‘A’ is for the apple that he gave to me, but I found a worm inside.”

Beatrice didn’t bother lowering her voice, “Ouf, that lady’s got some baggage.”

“What’s that?” The woman abruptly stopped her singing and pointed to a slim and tall box with one small opening in the corner of the room. “Young man, go to the dunce box!”

“Oh,” Wirt glanced down before standing to his feet. “Sure, okay! Sure!”

Scout watched her friend hum to himself as he situated himself into the box, closing the door to seal himself in. She furrowed her brows as Beatrice facepalmed. “And you’re not gonna stop him?!”

“No, he can do what he wants,” Scout shrugged. “This lady’s no help, anyway, so I’ll wait until he’s done here.”

“Now, where were we? Oh, yes- ‘G’ is for the gentleman I thought he was, when he first said ‘hi’-”

The young girl stood from the desk. “I’ll just wait outside. Tell me when the dunce is released or whatever.”

“Wait!” The bluebird called out. “Don’t leave me here with him!”

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

Greg and his frog found themselves amongst a racoon, a possum and a deer, all dressed in tattered clothing. Some of them were missing buttons, they had badly stitched patches, and their clothing was either baggy or too tight on them. They looked the part of unschooled street rats -- street… animals, and Greg had befriended them almost immediately. Currently, they were all sitting on a log, just as Scout had asked of him, as the boy rambled on and on to the verbally unresponsive animals. “So, my theory is hot dogs are not actually dogs, regardless of what they teach you in school. But you guys don’t go to school, huh? I’m gonna stick with you guys.” He whispered, laughing when his racoon friend picked up a black turtle and chucked it into the nearby pond.

“Hey, you found a log!” The voice of Scout caused Greg to perk up and crane his neck. The two shared a grin as she joined the group on the log, hesitating slightly upon noticing the company. “Who… are these guys?”

“Scout! These are my new friends!” The boy turned to the animals and gestured to her. “Gentlemen, this is Scout. She’s probably the smartest person in the world. Who needs school when you have Scout, huh?”

She snorted and set a hand atop his hat. “What is this, the Anti-School Club?”

“Huh… Yeah! That’s a great club name! Good job, Scout! And as founder of the ASC, I elect you president.”

“What an honor.”

“So, Ms President, what is your first order of business?”

Scout hummed in thought as she kicked her feet back and forth, tilting her head up to the bright blue sky. “Well, Ms Langtree is still singing her sorrows away, and Wirt is still being a dunce… So, I guess we just kill some time until he’s done.”

Greg nodded in satisfaction and snapped his fingers. “Perfect. And I know just the way to spend our killing time,” He hopped off of the log with a smile. “We play ‘Two Old Cat’! Me and Scout came up with it last year. It’s the best game ever created! Do you guys know how to play ‘Two Old Cat’?”

When the raccoon only blinked in response, Greg pulled Scout with him to a bush. “It’s fun. We’ll show you.”

“Be careful.” She warned and crouched down to help him carefully pull out a scraggly brown cat, surely blind in one eye. It meowed as the boy gently petted its dirty fur. Standing straight, she walked over to a tree and leaned against it to rest her throbbing leg.

A weak meow had her turning her head in the direction of the deer that had just picked up another cat. This one wore reading glasses and clutched a small walking cane in one of its paws. Greg frowned at this. “Wait. No. I think that cat is too old. What do you think, Scout?”

“Hm… Yeah, he’s too old. But we should at least feed the poor thing-”

“Hey! I think there’s one behind you!”

Scout twisted her body to peer into a bush behind her. She spotted a heap of dark black fur that rose and fell with raspy breathing. A pit formed in her stomach as she cautiously reached her hand into the bush. Just as her fingertips brushed the fur, the figure shot up to reveal itself as a gorilla. A pathetic roar sounded past its sharp teeth, yellow eyes staring into hers. Scout frightfully screamed and scrambled to her feet.

“Gorilla!” Greg waved his arms before he was being pushed forward by his friend.

“Go! Run!” She ordered, quickly leading Greg and the animals away from the gorilla that now began to chase them. “Keep going this way! I’ll distract it!”

Greg gasped. “Scout, no-”

“Just go! Go!”

The small group ran towards the schoolhouse, Scout huffing out a breath before turning back to the incoming gorilla. “Hey, ya big dummy! Come and get me!” She waved her arms wildly, darting off in the opposite direction of the schoolhouse. The gorilla growled quizzically before rushing after her. Despite the hot pain in her thigh, spreading past her knee, Scout managed to reach a tree, wrapping her arms and legs around it. She used her feet to hoist herself up, grabbing onto branches to pull her body farther up the tree. She cried out in shock when she felt a tug at her shoe.

Whipping her head around, she saw the gorilla trying to pull her off. Using her free leg, the injured one, she brought her knee close and then kicked her foot out, slamming it into the gorilla’s head and causing him to stumble back.

The tolling of a bell rang from above. Scout sat upon one of the branches and tilted her chin up to see Greg and the animals in the bell tower, swaying back and forth on the bell they desperately clung to. Her heart dropped at the sight. “What the- Greg! Get down from there now! S-Safely! Get down safely right now!”

Noticing the bell tower gang, the gorilla roared again and charged its way in their direction.

“No!” Scout wailed, quietly cursing to herself as she attempted to climb down the tree. Her uninjured leg slipped off the branch, eliciting a yelp from her as she clung to the wood, since her life quite possibly depended on it. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

“Scout!” She heard Greg call. Tilting her head back, her upside-down vision saw the gorilla chasing them towards the tree she dangled from. “We’re here! We’re here!”

“What the heck is even going on?!” She shouted as the gorilla rounded the tree over and over in the chase. Scout closed her eyes and inwardly wondered for a second if she were living in a cartoon at this point. Her body instinctively flinched when she felt scratching at her shin. It was the possum, holding a large, thick stick in his tiny hands. “Uh- hey. C-Can you help me?”

He blinked and stood on his hind legs, demonstrating a few swings with the stick before pointing down to the gorilla below them. Her eyes widened in realization. “O-Oh, you want me to knock him out?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” She let him slip the stick into one of her hands. Very quietly muttering to herself, she allowed her arm to leave the branch and dangle just above the gorilla’s head. Each time it ran near her, she would take a swing, but miserably miss just by an inch. Swing after swing, she let out little grunts and curses when she missed.

Sighing irritably, she moved her eyes up to the possum, who stared at her in exasperation. As if the solution were obvious, it used both its hands to demonstrate a very harsh swing, stumbling around to mock the gorilla. Inhaling deeply, she reared her arm towards her chest before bringing down the branch and connecting it with the gorilla’s head.

“Aah!” He groaned before falling to the ground, unmoving. Greg peeked from behind the tree and grinned up at her.

“Scout! You did it!”

She blinked. “I did… Hey! I did it! I did it- Aah!” She cried out when the branch broke from the tree, Scout letting go out of shock and barreling to the ground. When she landed on her back, the air was knocked out of her, forcing a choked gasp from her chest. She groaned in pain and rolled onto her side, her entire body pulsing in pain. She could hardly hear the hurried footsteps over the ringing in her head.

“Are you okay?! Scout?! Did you knock out all your memories and give yourself amnesia?!”

“Ugh… W-What…?” She rasped and let Greg help her stand. He watched carefully as she stumbled forward, holding onto the tree for support.

“Come on,” He put a hand on her back and handed the top hat to her. “We gotta go.”

After leading the group into the school and past Ms Langtree to the dining area, Greg slowly sat Scout at the picnic table beside Wirt. The teen frowned worriedly at his friend as she groaned. “Greg? What happened to Scout?”

The boy peered up at his brother. “She fell out of a tree after knocking out the gorilla.”

“She what?!”

“Are you okay?!” Beatrice widened her eyes.

“She’s like a superhero. But now she needs rest. I think she might have gotten amnesia. Oh! That means we need to remind her of all our good times, Wirt! Good times!”

Wirt gingerly touched the back of her head, flinching when she hissed in pain. “I-I-I-I’m sorry. D-Does it hurt? I mean- I mean… uh-”

“I’m okay,” She whispered, placing her top hat on her head. “I think I just need to rest…”

“Yeah! Get your energy! You’re gonna need a lot of it for the trip down memory lane!” Greg scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes and shoveled it into her mouth. Scout cringed at the bland tastelessness of it and took a sip of water. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s very bland. No taste.”

Greg hummed and assessed the room around him, watching the dismal and cheerless expressions of the animal students as they brooded over their plates of potatoes. He gasped when his eyes caught an object on the piano Ms Langtree currently played a melancholy tune on, no doubt feeding into the somber mood.

Wirt hardly noticed his brother shuffle away from the table as he picked up his spoon. “It can’t be that bland, can it?”

“Hey, nobody ordered you to eat yet.” Beatrice cut in.

“Yeah, but… Hm.”

Scout raised a brow at the pair. “Wirt, eat your bland potatoes.”

He sent a grateful smile her way. “Sure.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun…” She mumbled, scrunching up her beak at the forced smile Scout gave her. The trio jumped at the sound of wild, clashing, tuneless notes on the piano coming from Greg. Ms Langtree softly smiled and took over, playing a much more pleasant swing song. Greg’s face dropped his smile for a beat before giving a thumbs-up and climbing on a chair to grab the container of molasses. Bouncing to the beat of the song, he began to sing.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

If you want some, oh just ask us

They’re warm and soft like puppies and socks

Filled with cream and candy rocks!”

As he sang, he pranced around the room, adding just a bit of molasses to each plate to add a bit more cheer to everyone’s hearts.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

They’re so much sweeter than algebra class

If your stomach is grumblin’ and your mouth starts mumblin’

There’s only one thing to keep your brain from crumblin’!

Oh, potatoes and molasses

If you can’t see ‘em, put on your glasses

They’re shiny and large like a fisherman’s barge

You know you eat enough when you start seein’ stars!”

Absentmindedly, Scout tapped her spoon against her glass to the beat of the song. A wide smile spread across her face when she noticed Wirt doing the same. And as if on cue, the animals all joined in the song with their instruments. The sight and sound of this made Scout feel at home. Music was her life and band was a great part of it.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

It’s the only thing left on your task list

They’re short and stout to make everyone shout

For potatoes and molasses!

For potatoes and-”

“That’s enough!”

The door to the dining area burst open along with the booming voice. In the doorway was a tall figure, decked out in a large black trench coat and top hat, much shinier than Scout’s. His pale skin complexion stood out against his all-black attire. His greying hair peeked from under his hat, his dark eyes were hidden behind his circular prescription glasses, and his thick lips were curled into an upset frown. “Is this what I’ve been paying for?!”

“Hey!” Greg defended from where he stood on the table. “We just wanted to have a little fun.”

“I didn’t invest in this school to have fun,” He then marched over to Ms Langtree, who cowered under his scorn. “I thought we were trying to do important work here, teaching animals to count and spell.”

“We are!” Ms Langtree whined. “Oh, please, Father, don’t close the school! It won’t happen again!”

But he only walked past her. “I should say it won’t,” As he passed the animals, he snatched their instruments from them, definitely not forgetting to send a glare towards the three human children. “This… this… and this are all coming with me. Now send them to bed!”

“You heard father,” Ms Langtree sadly motioned to another room. “Off to bed with you.”

In a single-file line, the children, human and animal, trudged into the room filled with well-made beds, one for three students maximum. On the way, they were each given a nightgown, Scout choosing to just throw hers on over her clothes along with her friends. “Wirt,” She whispered. “Are we seriously doing this?”

“Whatever you want, Scout. D-Don’t you need rest anyway? You look like you hit your head pretty hard.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” She climbed into bed with Greg, his frog nestling under the blanket between them. Scout took their hats off and set them off to the side, frowning at the boy’s pout. “What’s on your mind, Gregory?”

Said boy tore his eyes away from the saddened animal folk. “I just wanted to have fun, change the world, and make it a better place.”

“Who says you didn’t?” She hummed and began tucking him in.

“You probably forgot because of your amnesia. I just made everything worse, Scout. Look at them…”

Scout glanced over her shoulder at the animals who were now sniffling and sighing to themselves. Exhaling through her nose, she turned back to the boy. “You know, changing the world isn’t easy, Greg. And you won’t get it right the first time. But you know what?” She gently pressed her lips to his forehead. “You change my world for the better everyday.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“So, you remembered our good times! You’re cured!”

From between them, the frog croaked, causing the two to giggle. From the bed beside them, Wirt softly smiled at the interaction, his heart warming as well as his cheeks. Beatrice watched him with narrowed eyes. “Okay, Wirt, I’ll admit it. You seem like a pushover, but you’re not.”

“Oh?” He shifted his gaze to her.

“Deep down in your heart… you’re a stubborn jerk! When are you gonna give this up?!”

Wirt stared forward with a determined look. “Maybe never. Maybe I’ll never give this up.”

Greg hummed before pushing the blanket off of he and Scout, the girl quietly groaning to herself. “Yeah! Wirt’s right! Never give up!” He cheered before grabbing his sheets and tying the ends together, throwing them out the window. “C’mon! Let’s go save the day!”

“Okay, if you say so,” Wirt left his bed, halting at his friend, who painfully sat up and turned to assist Greg. “W-Wait, w-what about Scout?”

Her head slowly turned to him. “What about me?”

“You’re hurt.”

“You know what? I order you to stop being such a Worry Wirt.” She playfully rolled her eyes. He sputtered for a second before giving in and following her out of the window.

After discarding their nightgowns, the gang wandered the blackened wood, the hooting of an owl being their only source of sound beside the three sets of feet shifting through the grass. Scout wrapped her arms around her sore body for warmth. From beside her, she felt Wirt fix her hat that had been leaning atop her head. She glanced at him with a thankful smile, sending heat to his cheeks and then to hers in turn. Clearing his throat, Wirt looked to his brother. “So, what’s the plan, Greg?”

“Plan?”

Scout tilted her head. “Yeah. You need to plan to change the world, bud.”

“Oh. I don’t know.” He shrugged.

Just then, a pitiful moan sounded from behind a bush. “Oh, who would’ve thought making a primer school for animals was a bad idea?”

Upon parting the bush, the three quietly gasped at the sight of Mr Langtree crouching on the ground, surrounded by the instruments he had confiscated, talking to himself. “My life savings, my home, everything I had went into that dear, dear school. And now I’m forced to sell these instruments just to keep it open,” As he continued, he removed his trench coat to reveal a quite scrawny man underneath the threatening facade, using his coat and a trumpet to act as a sorry tent. “All the while, that loathsome Jimmy Brown is off galavanting who knows where! Not to mention that wild gorilla on the loose. If only something would go right for a change…” He defeatedly sighed as he laid on the ground.

Soon, the sound of his snores filled the area. Scout hummed and shook her head. “Poor guy…”

“Yeah,” Greg nodded. “Okay, I think he’s asleep. Let’s go steal his stuff.”

Wirt, Scout and Beatrice widened their eyes. “What?”

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

As the sun emerged and the mildew leaked from the trees, Scout checked every last detail of the area before nodding to herself. Throughout the night, Greg, Wirt and Beatrice helped build a stage and notified anyone around of their benefit concert as Scout gathered the animal students to quickly learn a single song on their instruments. The work was tiring, but nothing she wasn’t used to. Rounding the front of the stage, she found Greg waiting for her, holding a baton for her. “There you are! It’s time to do what you were born to do! Do it for the world, Scout!”

“Alright, alright.” She chuckled and took the baton into her hand. Facing the band, she raised her arms in front of her, commencing the song. Her heart swelled with pride as the students played along perfectly. A joyful laugh bubbled in her throat as her arms waved and glided through the air to cue entrances and cut-offs. From the corner of her eye, she spotted people, apparently wealthy by their fine clothes and generous donations, trickling in from wherever they came from and dumping their purses and pockets clean into buckets provided. Her grin widened as they stopped beside the stage to stand and enjoy the beautiful music.

Her smile dropped when the students slowly halted their playing. “Guys, why’d you stop?” She raised her brows. Greg jumped onto the stage and pointed past her.

“Gorilla!”

That same pathetic roar from the previous day triggered the screaming of the audience. Scout spun around to find the gorilla she had knocked out was back and charging towards poor Ms Langtree. “Young man, do something!” Mr Langtree shouted at Wirt. The teen looked around uselessly before blindly running forward to do… something.

Before he could stop or hesitate, he tripped on his still untied laces and collided with the gorilla, sending them both to the ground. When they hit the ground, the head of the gorilla popped off and rolled to the side. Everyone gasped as Wirt scrambled to his feet. The headless gorilla sat up to reveal himself as a young man with silky, blonde hair and a handlebar mustache. “Finally.” His southern accent sighed out.

“Jimmy?” Ms Langtree gaped.

“That’s right, darlin’. I was the gorilla.”

“But… why did you do it…?”

“Got a job in the circus so’s I could finally buy ya that weddin’ ring,” He struggled to stand as Ms Langtree joined his side. “But when I got stuck in the dang suit, everybody was too doggone scared to help me out.”

Scout wringed her hands together in embarrassment. Ms Langtree cupped her cheeks in her hands as she swooned.

“Oh, Jimmy…”

“Darlin’...”

The two lovingly embraced, Greg shaking Scout as everyone cheered for them. Mr Langtree sniffled and wiped a tear from his eye. “I guess the world really is as sweet as potatoes and molasses…”

As if on cue, Greg plucked the baton from Scout’s grasp and turned to the band, starting his own song once again,

“Oh, potatoes and molasses.

If you want some, oh, just ask us!”

Sensing her work was done, Scout hopped off the stage and searched for her friend. He was leaning against a tree nearby with Beatrice perched on a branch above him. Giddily smiling, she shimmied her way over to them with a skip in her step. Wirt quietly chuckled as he watched her, raising a brow when she finally reached him.

“I did pretty good, huh?”

“You did great, Scout.”

She happily sighed and leaned beside him, their shoulders brushing at their closeness. Beatrice smirked at this. “Hey, Wirt.” She softly called.

“Yeah?” He glanced up at the branch.

“Tie your shoe.”

“Hm? Oh. Mm… okay.” He hummed and bent down to do as he was told.

Peeking over his cone hat, Scout spotted Beatrice glancing from Wirt, then to her, sending a wink her way. Scout widened her eyes and blushed furiously.

—————————————

Taglist: @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner

[inagetawaycarxo]

One Chicago head anon how they react to- their/your daughter asking about periods 🥺😢🩸

How Do They React To; Theirs/Your Daughter Asking About Periods

WARNINGS: Periods, errors I missed!

A/N: Let’s pretend Leslie is still alive!

Kelly Severide;

Kelly will try his best to tell as much as he can about the subject of periods.

Course he would have a sip of liquor courage.

Saying um before every sentence.

Matt Casey;

Matt is shocked and embarrassed at first.

Shuttering on his words, till he clears his throat.

While his/your daughter tilts her head in confusion as he explains it the best he can.

Sylvie Brett;

Sylvie is excited to explain periods.

Telling hers/your daughter all about periods.

Leaving no question unanswered.

Leslie Shay;

Like Sylvie, Leslie is excited to explain periods to her daughter.

More so her daughter asked her about it, instead of going to you or Kelly.

She would explain in it a relaxed way.

Telling her about period cycles and what pads or tampons to get. Etc.

Gabby Dawson;

Gabby thought you explained it to her, but obviously not.

Gabby would explain to her/your daughter in a cool way.

Slightly feeling emotional that her daughter is growing up, especially if she finds out her daughter has gotten her first period.

Connor Rhodes;

Connor is nervous at first. He wasn’t suspecting his little girl to ask him about periods, he was expecting her to ask you.

Connor would slightly stumble over his words at first.

Racking his brain on what to say, or how to say it. He wished you weren’t at a conference because he could really use your help.

“You’re a doctor daddy, surely you should know about the female productive system,” the ten-year-old spoke. Making Connor choke on his beer.

“Why don’t you call your mother? I mean she could explain it better, after all, she is specializes in that area,” Connor spoke. Trying to get out of it.

“But didn’t you learn, plus she is away, and I don’t want to bother her,” She whined.

She gave him puppy dog eyes till he broke. Finally telling her about periods.

Will Halstead;

Will is a babbling mess. Will and your daughter already knew about periods from you, but you told her to ask her father.

Which wasn’t going so well for him, he kept nervous scratching the back of his head and nape.

Looking at you for help.

“As a doctor you are really terrible at explaining periods,” You teased, making Will even more flushed and frustrated. While yours and his daughter giggled at Will’s explanation of periods.

Ethan Choi;

Ethan has no problems explaining periods to his/your daughter.

He is used to his little sister and you having them.

Making sure his/your daughter understands periods, and the signs before she gets them.

Crockett Marcel;

Like Ethan, Crockett has no problem telling his/your daughter about periods. Going into depth about periods.

He feels honored that she asked him about them.

Natalie Manning;

Natalie probably has a slide show on it waiting for her/your daughter to ask her about periods.

Natalie will go into depth about periods, the blood flow, cramps, pains, mood swings, etc., leaving her/your daughter scared.

Course she will then explain pads and tampons, how to use them etc.

Jay Halstead;

Jay will try his best to explain it. Feeling like he is put under the spotlight since his/your daughter asked him about it while he was watching a hockey game.

Course his mates will tease him about it, but his/your daughter’s eyes are on him. Hanging on to his every word.

After he finishes explaining it to her, he will ask her in a soft tone so only she can hear if she has her period, which she nods yes, he will pick her up, and go to the room he shares with you, going to the bathroom, and sitting his/your daughter on the toilet seat.

Getting a pad, out from the vanity and handing it to her.

Explaining to her how to use it, and how she should get new underwear before putting the pad on.

Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz;

Panics on the inside and on the outside.

Asks her to ask you then walks off calling your name.

Adam Ruzek;

Adam is flustered.

Stumbling over his words, till he finally says, “Ask your mother,”

Antonio Dawson;

Antonio will do his best to explain periods, but his/your daughter is still left confused, so she will end up going to you and asking about it.

Kevin Atwater;

Kevin doesn’t have an issue with explaining periods to his/your daughter.

He has dealt with you on your periods and his younger sister, so he was confident in explaining what periods were, what where periods, how often they occurred, etc. Course he never experienced them in his life personally.

Kim Burgess;

Kim was thrilled when her/your daughter asked her about periods.

Explaining periods to her in a soft way.

How to use pads/tampons.

What to expect before she gets her period and during.

Erin Lindsay;

Erin explained periods to her/your daughter in a cool way. Trying not to scare her. Stroking

Giving her tips on how to manage period pain, how to use a pad/tampon.

Answering every question that she threw her way.

Hailey Upton;

Hailey really thought your/her daughter would ask you, but she was wrong.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have a problem explaining periods to her.

Explaining what they were, when they come, telling her what to take for the pain, whether she wants to wear a pad or tampon, how to use them.

Hank Voight;

Hank wasn’t expecting his/your daughter to ask him about periods, but she did, which surprised him.

He explained to her what periods were and how they worked. He couldn’t really explain it in a way he experienced it personally.

But he did tell her what he observed from you when your periods hit you.

Telling her to ask you about how to use a pad/tampon, plus what to get. He didn’t have a problem buying pads/tampons.

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[sapnxps]

(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader

If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.

Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?

My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.

They were half right.

I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?

Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.

Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.

The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.

I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.

That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.

“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?

I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”

The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”

“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.

The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.

“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.

She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.

“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.

“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.

“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.

“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.

Greg. Ugly name.

I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.

Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.

Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.

Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.

The screaming never stopped.

In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?

It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.

At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.

Boy was he handsome.

I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.

“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.

“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.

I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”

He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.

He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”

He’s blunt. Got it.

The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?

I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Welp. Welcome to London!

[fluffbyday-smutbynight]

Masterlist  

~ FANFICS ~

Distractions (words: 911 - rated M; Uni!Lock)

“Beware of distractions.” Ironic, that Sherlock would recall Mycroft’s admonishment right now, as he finds himself completely - and more than willingly - distracted.

Love at First Bite  (words: 2782 - rated: M)

"It'll be fun," Mike had said. Recently discharged John Watson has an... interesting night out.

Shared Proximity  (WIP - rated: T ...for now)

“As ever, you see but you do not observe. Our respective lives are so enmeshed together, that such labels - like flatmates or colleagues or, yes, even friends - evidently fall short. Partners might do it, and it’s not a coincidence that it’s a stand-in for couple.”

A definition might prove necessary, but still not enough in itself. What's the next step?

The Perfect Blend  (words: 4890 - rated: T) 

It's said that smell and taste are the most powerful senses, when it comes to triggering vivid memories...

Five (plus one) spices; five (plus one) memories; five people Sherlock holds close to his heart... plus one - the one: the perfect blend.

The Conundrum Of The Tactless Detective  (words: 1805 - r: T)

He should have known better, by then. It wasn’t like bloody Sherlock Holmes couldn’t read a room, and he definitely understood tact on a rational level. He just didn’t care about the eventual consequences, the git.

Wrong. Number! (words: 2804 - rated: E)

“How? How did you get it?”

“Deduction, Captain Watson. I have a remarkable brain; the only downside being that it requires constant… stimulation.”

Is the stranger… flirting with him? Christ, the man hasn’t even offered him his name, but John is buzzed enough to entertain the thought.

Three Sad Thoughts, Danced  (words: 2788 - rated: T)

John is learning waltz, but Sherlock has something different on his mind... Slow dancing is a slippery slope.

~ FICLETS  (series and stand-alones) ~

Quick, man, if I need you! ~  I know it’s 2 a.m., but... / Be My Guest 

From Me, To You ~ Just a silly gift / ...and an expensive one 

Under The Weather ~  Rain / Puddles / Gloom / Thunder

Flash Fiction Friday ~ Think Twice / Out in the rain / The Scene of the Crime

White Lie / The Dads Are Alright / Bespoke / E vai col liscio! / (Full) Contact with Nature / Bumping Heads 

28 Days of Fluff (Fluffbruary 2022) ~ 01 . 02 . 03 . 04 . 05 . 06 . 07 . 08 . 09 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21 . 22 . 23 . 24 . 25 . 26 . 27 . 28

~ Headcanons  ~

Fluffy headcanons you can pry from my cold, dead hands

Smutty headcanons that live in my head rent free

Mycroft's Chocolate Stout Cake (for Greg, and Greg only)

“The Dads Are Alright” Headcanon (parentlock/fluff)

221B pets

221B rules (written by @kitten-kin)

Fluffbruary 2022 Trivia Tuesdays: Week 01 . 02 . 03 . 04

*****

~ Sherlock Rewatch Meta ~

ASiB ~ Why I Love Irene Adler So Much // THoB  ~ Pt. 1 - Beware of the Dog / Pt. 2 - Lights in the Darkness / Pt. 3 - Killing the Hound // TAB ~ Way Too Deep // TLD ~ The Morgue Scene: a look at the script // TFP ~ The Coffin Scene

Character Meta ~  Molly Hooper has been done dirty (and I say this as a hardcore Johnlocker) // (mini-meta) John Watson, a man with issues: one and two

*****

Other:  ~ Half-Assed Fic Recs  ~  Martin Freeman Appreciation Posts  ~  Random Thoughts: StartUp // Ghost Stories 

.

[bigsteeb]

this is gonna be a long post so bear with me, growing pains got a b i g emotional reaction out of me & I need to share my thoughts & feelings about it because jesus fucking christ.

ok first things first, someone hug this boy immediately. he’s sat in his room, still in his pajamas, in day time watching dog copter. this whole scene is just steven going “lol I’m sad, I’m gonna comfort eat & stay in my pajamas & watch a kids show I watched when I wasn’t as sad haha” & it’s not only upsetting, but relatable too fuck. his room is a mess along with him eating ice cream at what I assume is morning… making it his breakfast? geez steven. also idk if it’s just me here but in this shot he looks… bigger? like ignoring his body size shifting later on in the episode he looks a lot wider than he usually does when paul & drew board episodes to me, he’s rivalling etienne & maya’s steven’s wideness. did he… get chubbier from comfort eating? how much time has passed since together forever for him to put on weight if he has? this could literally just be steven slouching or his pajamas making him look bigger but as someone who is an advocate for the body positivity shown in su & suf it has me curious. I want to hug this soft, sad boy. It could also be due to how steven’s design fluctuates through the animation process, it’s never really on model all the time. 

the grunting noise he makes in this scene is very distressing, as are other moments from the episode too. a glimpse at the glow-bracelet he proposed to connie with is enough to physically pain him? fuck me man. is he leaving his room where there’s already ice cream… to get more ice cream? sobs. also the puns in this shot. I cant? slow burn?! you’re evil crewniverse. not to mention his body size changing throughout this scene, god this poor lad.

screams, this was when I started worrying. the boy is now in an environment he has never been in before & is feeling extremely uncomfortable & vulnerable. look at the lines under his eyes, his sad eyebrows & pout I hate it. also don’t even get me started on this part. the slight raise of a voice being enough to send him into panic?! fuck I hate how much I relate to that. 

here’s where I immediately broke, no god damn pun intended. seeing steven’s skeleton, steven’s fucking skull, like this pained me. that crack on his skull is from fucking jasper in jail break. I can’t express all of the visceral emotions that were going through my body at this. there was intense sadness for steven, extreme anger at jasper & the gems for allowing shit like this to happen to him. turns out he’s not as resilient as we thought he was. each hit he takes physically breaks him & then his gem instantly heals his wounds, my heart fucking broke at this. think back to everything that happened to him, everything that physically hurt him. it broke him I can’t deal with it! then there’s what priyanka says to steven next;

“you seem to of made a series of miraculous recoveries, but that doesn't change the fact that you experienced trauma. you’ve recovered physically but, have you recovered mentally?”

this part here along with her reassuring him that there’s nothing wrong with his brain, how childhood trauma can have an impact on how your body responds to stress & how you act in your social life, the usage of the word “cortisol” too. this stuff being in a children's tv show is incredible. the writing for priyanka describes trauma simply enough for kids to understand, but for adults to fully realise too. folks, steven has ptsd. there wasn't one bit of sugarcoating about it or nothing, this is canon fact & it hurts me. for so long have I wanted steven’s emotional issues to be alked about, to not only be brought to steven’s attention but to the audience’s too.

everything that has happened to him has built up to this moment. this moment where his behaviour & coping methods are finally making sense to a large majority of the fandom, & to steven himself. he’s hurting; physically, mentally & emotionally, & he isn’t coping well what so ever about it. his emotional support system is complete garbage, no one regularly checks in on him & folks just take steven at face value like “oh yea glowing pink? he’s fine it’s just steven” but he’s the bad person?! I hope a lot of you out there who genuinely believe steven is a bad person re-think yourselves after this. dealing with trauma is tough as shit. some days you even wonder if that one thing that fucked you up is really worth being labelled as trauma. I still can’t believe this is the route they’re taking, if he doesn’t get some form of therapy by the end of future I’ll be furious.

then things begin to spiral as he remembers what happened with connie. he clutches his chest in pain & begins changing size over intense amounts of stress & it was extremely distressing to watch. steven immediately reassures connie that this isn’t because of her, but because of everything else that happened to him. however. I believe that that’s a slight lie, he wouldn’t of spiralled if he hadn’t of remembered the proposal, steven you fucking himbo. he continues to reassure them both that he’s fine, just that he needs them to leave so he can calm himself enough to control himself.

then this happens.

“I. CAN’T. BE AROUND YOU RIGHT NOW!”

this was fucking intense. he means this literally in 2 ways btw. his body size shifting over the stress he’s feeling is a danger to both connie & priyanka in this moment, but it’s also because of how it started. being around connie hurts him. he’s not mad at her though let me make that very clear, just that thinking about what happened when he tired to propose to her is sending his head in a fritz. he did what he did full of confidence in together forever, for connie to then make him realise how silly he was being. these two are destined for each other, but that advice from ruby & sapphire has really fucked with him. he looks up to those 2, looks up to garnet, their relationship is so strong & stable. for them to give him that advice & to then scream “DO IT!” in his face is incredibly tasteless imo.

then greg gets here. I knew connie was calling for either greg or the gems when she was on her phone as she left the room, fuck yea connie I love you. the breathless, strained “thank you” from steven towards connie for calling his dad? g o d. connie telling him she’ll be there for him when he’s ready?! g o d. these next boards were done by rebecca, I knew immediately when I saw steven’s face. it makes sense that rebecca boarded these, because fuck. 

how do I move on from all of the stuff I’ve been through? how do I live life if it always feels like I’m about to die!?

I’m tearing up as I type this. when I first heard the leak of this audio I so badly wanted to believe it, but to also believe it was fake too. I was an emotional mess off & on for about 3 days over it because I couldn't stop thinking about how fucking distressing it was. like… shit steven. he seriously feels this. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain he felt just saying this in front of his fucking dad. he is hurting badly. this boy, this sweet sweet boy we’ve watched grow & develop into the person he is today is distraught about his future & life. it is… soul crushing to watch this. a group of friends of mine have found joking about the episode as a form of coping with the intensity of it & as much as that’s valid as fuck, any joke coming from this episode feels morally wrong to me. I can’t bring myself to join in it feels terrible even thinking about laughing at it to cope. I love them all, but I can’t bare myself to join them. this moment ending with greg comforting steven, telling him he’s here for him & all of his struggles, got me weeping. greg is possible the best father figure I’ve seen on tv, let alone a kids tv show. he’s amazing.

the final scene right here is lovely. greg making steven a hot chocolate & listening to him vent, reassuring him over his worry for his future. this right here is exactly what steven needs. someone to talk to, someone he could trust to talk about his feelings to. this the start of his support system, tag on peri from in dreams, bis in bismuth casual as well as connie from the past few episodes & it’s already looking great! even when greg eased him about being there for him steven still feels guilty about him leaving his tour, leaving his tour because he got a phone call from connie about his son being in need & steven feels guilty about it. fucking hell man. I did enjoy how the episode ended though, with that little moment between the both of them;

“just get some rest kiddo. you don’t have to solve all of your problems in one night.”

“yea. thanks dad.”

it’s a great message too, all of your struggles can’t be dealt with all at once. I’ve used a similar analogy before but it’s like removing a dead tree. you have to deal with all of the little things surround this issue first before you get to the deep, harder stuff. along side the message about trauma they’re both very important messages, I’m glad they exist in the show.

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

one more thing before I end my thoughts & feelings over growing pains.

this ending shot;

as soon as I saw the frog mug my mind raced back to the promo for this scene, & this whole moment to come entirely. if you remember this moment has the first set of leaked audio within it, the audio of the gems basically cornering steven about him not opening up to them. christ pearl even gets mad at him for his gem building a wall behind him, protecting him from them. it’s common knowledge, I hope, that steven’s gem reacts to his emotional state. pearl herself has said this;

“I think your gem is reacting to your state of mind.”

his gem building this wall? it felt like steven was being threatened by them. this scene now has awful connotations with it. because since we now know what the pink mode is doing to steven, how actually painful it is, think back to these;

yea. fuck the gems. I’ll let it slide if steven, greg or priyanka haven’t told them about what happened at the hospital. but if they do know, if they know how much it hurts steven being in his pink mode & still press into him about it I’ll see red. with steven’s trauma & now ptsd being cemented into the show I fucking hope garnet, amethyst & pearl get held accountable for what they put on him as a kid. that shit will not slide with me if they don’t. do not condone what the gems put him through. do not condone the gems for making steven feel like he had to be his mum for them. just… don’t. please.

[aewriting]

Tell me about the Vegas AU?

The “Vegas AU,” as I call it, involves Jesse pretty much blackmailing Michael to leave town and leave Alex alone.  Michael ends up going to Las Vegas, and does not know that Alex has been injured.  Alex ends up moving in with Greg.  This is one that gets a bit fuzzy after that setup.  There are aspects I still really like about it, but I’m sitting on it until I can think up some next steps for it. I haven’t worked on this one in a while or posted about it in a while, so if anyone wants to read what I’ve posted so far of it, it’s below the cut.

“Another round, Roberto!”

 Roberto eyes him warily. “I dunno, man. Maria said - “

 “Maria loves me,” Michael says, waggling an eyebrow and leaning over the bar. He sees Roberto swallow nervously. “We go way back. Class of ‘08, Roswell High,” he says, and slams the rest of his shot.

 “I’ll handle this, Roberto,” he hears, and there’s DeLuca suddenly, looking... well, hot as fuck, honestly, but also pissed as hell.

 She snatches Michael’s empty glass off the bar. “The fuck are you doing, Guerin?” She wrinkles her nose at him. “You’re so past shitfaced right now, even for you. And you can’t afford it. You were already in the hole - “

 “Would have remembered that,” he says suggestively, just to be an ass about it.

 “Oh my god,” Maria mutters. “That’s it. You’re done.”

 “Sorry, that was stupid.”

 “Nope, you’re done,” she repeats. “You’re done tonight.” She shoves his hat toward him, across the bar. “And don’t come back till you can pay. In full.”

 “How much does he owe you, Maria?”

 Michael’s eyes narrow, because Maria’s just frozen. She’d looked angry, before, fiery. The anger’s still there, but now it’s... cold. Contained.

 Jaw tight, she glances at Michael, then at the man behind him. “Including tonight? $90, give or take.”

 Michael’s eyes widen as two crisp fifty dollar bills are placed on the bar, quickly followed by a third.

 “That’s to cover his tab. And your troubles. With whatever’s left, I’ll take two glasses of your best whiskey. For me and the young man, here.”

 Michael can see Maria’s need for cash warring with her evident dislike of this man. He sees the moment she decides, quickly palming the money, holding the bills tight in her clenched fist.

 “Coming up,” she says tightly, casting a quick little glance toward Michael before she goes that looks almost... concerned?

 No matter. Michael heaves a sigh. Some old guy wants to buy him a drink, the least he can do is lay on some charm. “I’m awfully grateful - “ he starts as he slowly turns around.

 Freezes.

 Because it’s Jesse Manes behind him, looking at him with those cold eyes.

 “Hello, Michael.”

 Michael hates the panic that starts rising in him. He grabs his hat, begins to stand.

 Feels Jesse grip his hand, the left one. “Sit. Down.”

 He could snap every finger, right now. It would be nearly effortless. If they were alone, he might do it... might do worse. But Maria’s watching them, out of the corner of her eye. This is so public.

 And there’s Alex.

 Alex who... Michael takes a moment to calculate in his fuzzy head. Alex who is probably back on base by now. Maybe. Preparing to fucking deploy. Alex who is still uncomfortably intertwined with his monster of a father, and while Michael doesn’t mind causing trouble for himself - hell, that was his whole purpose in coming to the Pony tonight and getting brain meltingly drunk - he’ll be damned if he causes trouble for Alex.

 So he sits down.

 “Good boy,” Jesse says with a smug little grin, like Michael’s a goddamn dog.

 “Here,” Maria says curtly, placing two glasses of whiskey on the bar in front of them, frowning as she stares at Jesse’s strong hand covering Michael’s wrecked one.

 Jesse gives her a little nod as Michael tugs his hand away, flexing it unconsciously. Jesse picks up a glass, takes a small sip. Stares at Michael. “Drink up.” Michael just looks at him, so tense. Jesse shrugs a little. “Didn’t take you as one to turn down free liquor.”

 He’s managed to avoid Jesse Manes for over seven years. He, he’s seen him a few times - walking around town, at the Crashdown, one memorable morning at the Sheriff’s station while Michael was still in the drunk tank. But there was no avoiding now. Michael picks up the whiskey, drinks a little. The burn is worse than usual, despite the improved quality.

 Jesse narrows his eyes at him. “We need to talk, Michael.”

 Michael keeps his mouth shut. Frowns.

 Jesse leans in a bit, and Michael tries hard not to instinctively back away. “You’ve been messing around with something that belongs to me,” he says, voice low and cold.

 And at that, Michael can’t contain himself. “He doesn’t belong to you,” he says harshly, probably too loud for this particular setting.

 Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Well at least you’re not denying it.”

 “Nothing to fucking deny.”

 Jesse’s mouth twists a bit. “No. Suppose you don’t think so, the way you rub everyone else’s face in your own filth.”

 How dare he. Michael... Michael could hurt this man. Wants to hurt this man. Thinks of the the ways he’s hurt Alex. Thinks of the way Alex makes Michael hide their interactions, be so careful.

 Jesse takes a small little sip of his drink, shakes his head. “Thought I was very clear. Years ago,” he says, looking pointedly at Michael’s hand. “This thing between the two of you needs to stop.”

 Michael swallows down his own fury, his own intense bitterness and hurt. It feels... bizarre to be having this conversation with Jesse Manes, of all people, when he’s never talked about it with anyone else. Not even Alex, really.

 “There... there’s no thing,” Michael says, hating how wounded he sounds. Because there isn’t. Not... not that there ever was, not really, but Michael had at least had hope before, at times. After this last time, though, the things he and Alex had said...

 Jesse scoffs, shakes his head. “I followed you. To the motel.” Michael can feel his stomach drop. “Heard the two of you. Like... like animals,” Jesse says, tone dripping with revulsion. He looks right at Michael then. “Saw some of the marks you left him with, that he tried to hide.”

 Michael’s willing his breath to remain even, willing himself not to shatter every glass in this damn bar. “What did you do to him?” he asks, voice low and dangerous.

 “Not a damn thing,” Jesse says. “Drove him back to base so he can ship off to Iraq and continue to serve his country like the decorated airman he is.”

 Michael scoffs, rolls his eyes.

 Jesse glares at him. “Do you know what he’s risking? Every time he’s with you?” He shakes his head. “Has he told you?”

 Michael’s looking at him blankly.

 “That’s what I thought,” Jesse says tightly. Leans back in seat a bit. “I kept up with you over the years. So I know about the drunk and disorderlies, the petty theft, the lewd behavior and indecency charges.” He narrows his eyes. “Alex know how often you’re down here, drinking cheap liquor you can’t afford, leaving with anyone that’ll have you?”

 Michael can feel his face flushing, the sting of tears just below the surface. He looks down, sniffs, plasters on a shit eating grin. “You have been keeping a close watch. Could make a guy wonder,” Michael says, cocking an eyebrow.

 He sees the tick of Jesse’s jaw. “Wanted to see who my son was risking his entire career for.” Jesse looks him up and down, seems disgusted. “And it doesn’t reflect well on you. Or him.”

 Michael shakes his head a little, looks away. He... he’s used to being told he’s a piece of shit. Lives down to it. But this, Jesse bringing Alex into it...

 “You’ve done a lot of the work for me. Thought my son had finally gotten his head on straight and realized that there was no future with his hometown...” Jesse’s eyes narrow as he gestures at Michael. “Whatever you are to him.” He takes a little sip of whiskey, eyes Michael. “Thought it was done, actually, till the motel.”

 Michael swallows. “There’s nothing there, okay?” Michael says, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Alex... Alex is smart. Knows there’s nothing for him here.”

 A waste. That’s what Alex had said, what he’d called him, this last time. A waste.

 Jesse studies him. “Then maybe it’s time you and I got on the same page,” he says, taking out an envelope, fat to the point of bulging. Opening it up. Flashing the neatly folded cash. “This is the easy way to do this, Michael. There’s a hard way, too. What do you say?”

 Michael’s just blinking. Once. Twice. Looking at the cash. There’s... so much there. More than he could make for months at the ranch. “I... I don’t...”

 Jesse rolls his eyes, shuts the envelope. “There’s ten grand in there. Take it and leave. Don’t contact my son again. You do and... and I make things worse for you, okay? You know I could do it,” he says, looking deliberately down at Michael’s hand.

 And Michael’s angry now. “What the fuck man?” he exclaims, eyes flashing. “You... you think you can just come in here, flashing cash, and buy me off?”

 Jesse scoffs a bit. “You’re asking? Seriously? Yes,” he says meanly. “You are a drunken day-laborer that lives in a trailer. You’ve got holes in your shirt and shit on your boots. So yes, I think I can give you ten thousand dollars and give you a new start somewhere of your choice. Somewhere without my son.”

 Michael clenches his jaw, pushes back from the bar, too fast, and the stool clatters to the ground.

 “Michael?” Maria asks, startled, but Michael’s too angry to reply.

 “Fuck you,” he says, leaning toward Jesse, baring teeth.

 Jesse’s eyes narrow. “Michael,” he warns.

 “No.” Michael says, shaking his head. “Fuck you, Manes,” he says, itching to reach out with his powers, put Jesse through the goddamn wall. “Fuck you and your money,” he says.

 And he can’t help it this time - he nudged Jesse’s stool off balance, just a little, sending it - and Jesse - to the floor.

 He starts walking - doesn’t stop when he hears Maria shouting, doesn’t stop when he hears Jesse Manes’s damnable voice assuring Maria that he’s fine. Michael pushes through the crowded Pony, exits the bar, and heads straight for his truck at the far side of the lot.

 He pulls the door shut, locks the truck with his powers, and reaches for a bottle of acetone, only to find it drained.

 “God damn it,” he mutters, and such a stupid little thing, it pushes him over the edge. Fuck... fuck everything. This shit is just... too much. It was already too much, had been too much for years. But the past few days, with Alex leaving for a fucking war zone, their fight, and now Jesse Fucking Manes confronting him at the Pony and trying to buy him off? No wonder he’s drunk right now.

 Shit.

 He’s... fuck. He’s really, really drunk right now. Too drunk to drive, he knows. He could call Isobel. But then she’s ask questions - why hadn’t he replied to her texts the last few days, where had he been, why was he shit-faced?

 Michael sighs. It’s not too cold tonight. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s slept it off in the Pony lot. Unbidden, he imagines what Alex would say, if he could see him now, sauced and weepy. Probably the same thing he’d said to him before he’d stormed out of the motel. You’re a waste, Guerin.

 It’s the last thing a Michael thinks as he nods off.

 ***

 “Michael.”

 “Mmm, don’t go.”

 “Michael!”

 “Stay, please.”

 “Michael, I am not fucking around - get up right now.”

 Michael startles awake, out of what he thinks was a dream. It’s too bright, too loud, and, fucking hell, Max is here, rapping on his window with a fucking flashlight.

 “Fuck,” he mutters, letting his head fall back against the cracked leather of his seat.

 Max shakes his head, starts pounding the flashlight against the window again.

 “Hold on one fucking minute, okay?” Michael rubs at his eyes, tries to orient himself. He’s certainly hungover - maybe even still drunk. His mouth is dry, fuzzy, foul tasting. And, Jesus, is Max about to pound on the window again? He reaches low on the door, begins to manually roll down the window.

 He does it slowly on purpose, taking his time on each revolution. Max looks ready to burst. As soon as the window is low enough, Max leans in close, as if he’s trying to physically shove his face into the car.

 “What the fuck were you thinking, Michael?” he grits out, voice low.

 Michael looks at him blankly, and Max leans in even more.

 “Getting into a fight with Jesse Manes? In public?”

 Michael lets his head hang, shakes it a bit. So this is why Max is here? “I didn’t lay a fucking hand on him, Max.”

 Max’s frown deepens. “Well you don’t have to, do you?” he says, barely audible.

 Michael snorts a little. “You don’t have a fucking clue,” he says, immediately regrets it. Because Max doesn’t know the history here, and Michael doesn’t want him to, just wants him to go away.

 But Max doesn’t press for detail, just looks stern. “Michael, cut the attitude. This...” He falters. Actually looks a little... worried? Scared? “This is serious, okay?”

 “What are you talking about?” Michael asks, and he takes a look around for the first time since being woken up.

 There are three police cruisers here. Surrounding his truck. He sees Max’s partner, the hot blonde, talking to Maria. Maria who... who looks like she just got pulled out of her bed. She has a silky camisole and shorts on, with flip flops. A thick patterned blanket pulled around her shoulders to stave off the cold. It keeps slipping, and Michael can see her nipples through the thin material. He swallows hard. He’s long thought she was attractive, going back to high school, really, had idly wondered what she’d look like in a morning-after situation. He hadn’t intended to find out like this. He meets her eyes, briefly, and she looks away quickly. She looks... she looks worried.

 Further away, he sees Michelle Valenti and... shit. Jesse. Jesse’s nodding solemnly at the moment as he speaks with the Sheriff.

 “What the fuck is going on, Max?”

 Max’s shoulders slump. “Do you really not know?”

 Michael shakes his head. “Is this about me parking at the Pony overnight? Cause I’ve done it before and Maria’s never busted me over it. Seems excessive,” he complains, glancing quickly in her direction. Again, she looks away as soon as they make eye contact. “Like, would she have rather I drove drunk?”

 Max is just staring at him. “We have dozens of witnesses that say you and Jesse Manes has an altercation in which you repeatedly yelled ‘fuck you’ at him and mentioned money.”

 Michael sniffs, narrows his eyes. “And?”

 Max’s eyes dart from side to side, and he leans in close. “Michael, if you did it, just tell me and I’ll try my best to help you, okay? Just tell me where it is.”

 Michael feels cold. “What?”

 Max bites his lip. “Manes says you stole his wallet last night. We’ve got a search warrant for you and the truck.”

 “Fuck,” Michael says, and he knows. Knows that Jesse’s screwed him. On instinct, he whirls around in his seat, looks to the other side of the lot where Jesse is standing.

 And smiling. Right at him.

 He turns around in his seat. Looks at Max. “I didn’t do it, Max. We fought in the bar, yeah,” he says, and he sees Jesse and Michelle walking toward the truck. “Just words,” he adds hastily. “And, um, I knocked him off his stool. With my powers.” He sees Max’s disapproving face, presses on. “But I didn’t steal his wallet.” He remembers, then, the way Jesse had referred to Alex. “I didn’t take anything that belongs to him,” he adds quietly. “I didn’t.”

 “Mr. Guerin?” Michelle Valenti is standing right next to Max now, looking serious. “Could you please step out of the car?”

 Michael mouth twists. “Do I have a choice?”

 “We have a warrant,” she says.

 “So I’ve heard,” Michael says, glaring at Max. With a sigh, he unlocks the truck, opens the door, and steps out. Watches as the Sheriff begins rummaging around in his glove box. Max’s partner - Jenny, maybe? - has hopped into the bed of the truck, is combing through his blankets, his tools. She stops, frowns.

 “Sheriff?” she calls. Michelle walks around to the side of the truck and Max’s partner holds up a small item. Michael’s stomach drops. It’s a wallet.

 Sheriff Valenti looks at it. Frowns. “Jesse?” she calls, and Jesse quickly walks over.

 Jesse’s eyes widen as he gets closer. “That’s it, alright.”

 The Sheriff nods. “Could you check it for me? Make sure there’s nothing missing?”

 “Of course,” Jesse says. He opens it, eyes the cash, the cards. “Everything’s here, thank goodness. Thank you, Sheriff.”

[angelisverba]

no need to be sorry

in which y/n realizes she loves Jason, and he can’t touch himself to the thought of her because it makes him feel guilty

word count: 12.8k

pairing: y/n and her brother’s best friend, jason

warning: strong mentions of sexual trauma and abuse. please read at your own caution if you are not comfortable with that .

author’s note: originally this was supposed to be a super long piece (and the last one) but i wanted to put something else to make the last part even longer :) THIS IS NOT EDITED, sorry not sorry hehe

March is a very confusing month. 

For y/n, it meant SAT cramming and intensive camps for the retake in may. A maxed out speed on her brain as to keep up her grades (and even improve them because God knows her math grade needs urgent care) and constantly keep her nose in her books because finals were approaching soon. 

For Jason, and the entire senior class for that matter, it meant renting out tuxedos and making appointments at the beauty salon in preparation for prom, buying tickets for prom, finding a prom date, asking out said date in a cutesy way that was memorable for both parties.

It meant asking y/n to be his prom date, but not drag her away from her studies because that just wouldn’t be fair.

Hell, Jason still hadn’t taken his girl out on a second date because she was such a busy bee, and had to settle for ‘study dates’. Really it was just him watching her chew on her bottom lip as she transferred notes from her chemistry textbook to her notebook, his own work splayed out in front of him, meaning to be completed but his attention diverted elsewhere. She’d glance up with burning cheeks to tell him that his glasses were sliding down his nose, and Jason— quite nearly in a hypnotic daze— would smile dopily at her and say ‘you’re so pretty’. She would shush him and tell him to get to work, or sometime ask for his help, and Jason would use that as an excuse to wrap his arm around her waist telling her ‘gotta whisper love, come close’ and proceed to explain how the law of gas, ideal gas, and Dalton’s Law of partial pressure differentiated from each other. 

He didn’t mind this. Any time he got with her he treasured, but god did he want to keep her tucked at his side at all times to show him off. It was selfish of him to be jealous that she wasn’t spending time with him when all she wanted to do was study for her future; for college. Selfish because Jason already had everything worked out. He’d gotten a scholarship to his dream school via football and his good-ish grades. Dorming and transportation was all set-up; he was 100% ready to go. 

But y/n? She’d confessed to Jason that she had no idea what she was doing with her life. That she was studying and doing all these things to look good for her college application, but her biggest fear was that they still wouldn’t accept her and she’d wind up going to community college. There were times where her bouncing leg would violently shake their table in the library so much, Jason would drag her out of the chair and take her on a short walk around the library (if her eyes were teary he’d sneak her into a corner and peck at her eyelids softly until she giggled). An effective strategy that resulted in a noticeable tent at his crotch, and a dreamy-eyed y/n that peeked up at him through her lashes with heated cheeks. 

He’d say, “Are you relaxed now? Or should we go home?” 

Home was his house. Y/n had her home, and Jason had his- respectively- but he referred to his place as ‘home’ and she never bothered to correct him.  More often than not (once it got to this point) y/n would nod and they’d head over to his place. 

And, well, who was she to pass up that opportunity? 

Y/n enjoyed reading her dog-eared SAT book on Jason’s bed and falling asleep on her crossed arms. Only because she would wake up an hour or so later, glued next to his side, with him also napping, lips puffy and hair extra fluffy. His hair, how a complete chocolate brown color, closely cropped since he’d cut off all the blond, fanned on the pillow and curled around the frames of his tortoise-shell glasses that he never remembered to take off. 

She’d always take them off for him, and the movement would startle him awake, his green eyes fluttering awake, eyebrows furrowed in a confusion that disappeared when he realized that it was just her. His sweet y/n with sleepy eyes who took his glasses off ever so gently, and reached over him to place them on his bedside.

They were wrapped up in their own little personal heaven when they were together, alone, and it was only disrupted when it was time for Jason to take y/n home. Grabby hands and kissy faces consumed them when she received a questioning text from her parents or brother, and the whole ‘do you really have to go’ ordeal took its course. And maybe- just maybe- Jason enjoyed the goodbyes because y/n always put extra effort into her goodbye kiss, leaning and pressing up against his mouth so their noses were squished against each other, her hand at the collar of his shirt to pull him even closer, communicating to him how much… how much she would miss him. 

She knew that Jason understood, and when they broke apart with a wet suction noise, and her eyes fluttered open to meet his, Jason knew that she knew that he knew what she was trying to say. It was a slight moment of vulnerability on her part, because it was the closest they’d get to admitting/discussing the sexual parts of their relationship. Or rather, the lack of.

But never mind that, it didn’t matter to any of them. They could be intimate without having sex. 

Right?

*                                                      *                                  *

Jason was confused. 

As silly as it was, prom was a big deal. It signified the closing of an era in a teenager’s life; the end of high school. A party to honor their struggles and begin a transition to a period of more struggles. 

Traditionally, you attend a dance with a date. A girlfriend, a crush, a last resort. One could go with friends but, Jason has a girlfriend now and he’d be damned if he didn’t take his pretty girl and show off that he was the one that got her in the end.  

The only issue was: the prom-posal.

He knew that y/n and him didn’t hang in the same crowd, and while they were both mellow, y/n held a little more reserve to public announcements.

She was shy. 

Needless to say, Jason had a very big quest on his shoulders; to find a way to ask y/n out to prom in a way that was memorable and attune to her likings. He thinks he doesn’t think he'd be able to get over it if he messed this up. 

“Jason? Bro are you even listening?” Andrew asked from across the lunch table. Kent stuffed french fries into his mouth, and glanced from both his friends. 

“Sorry, man. What was that?” Jason presses the lock button on his phone, and places it down on the table. 

“I was talking about the rager at Greg’s, is everything alright? You’ve been distant for a few days now, not having issues with y/n are you?” Andrew’s facial features darkened slightly, the deep concerns for his sister shining through his demeanor. Kent picked on the change of atmosphere, and his chewing stops. 

Jason sighed, his shoulders slanting downwards and the fabric of his letter-man jacket coming to a close at his chest. His heart-shaped lips come to a pensive pucker, debating if he should tell his best friend what was on his mind. 

At the troubled look on his face, Kent smiles encouragingly, and says, “You know you can tell us anything, J.” Andrew turns to look at his Kent while he’s speaking, and when he turns back to Jason, he nods, a knowing glimmer in his eyes. 

“What’s up?” His girlfriend’s brother leans forward, prepared to listen.

“I don’t know how to ask y/n to go to prom with me.” 

Andrew and Kent’s facial expression drop to a deadpan, and Jason’s eyebrows furrow in response, confused at their reaction. 

“What?” He looked back and forth between his two unimpressed friends, who suddenly burst into laughter; snickering and pointing fingers at him through wheezed words. 

“You’re fucking whipped,” Kent said, slapping a hand on Andrew’s shoulder and doubling forward.

“My sister,” their laughter calms down momentarily, “has you this upset?” And at his comment, the boys start laughing again, loud enough that it drags the attention of nearby tables. 

“Guys,” the corner of Jason’s lips struggle to stay down. “It’s not funny.” 

“Yeah, it is. Your panties are in a twist because of y/n,” Kent said, “Where is she?” He stands up from the bench and glances around the cafeteria, looking for her. 

Jason’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops, amazed at his friend’s response. “Dicks,” he mutters. “She’s with her English teacher, preparing for an exam.” 

Andrew’s chuckles die down again, and he shakes his head while rubbing his fingers on his forehead, grinning. “Deadass?”

“Yes!” Jason juts his head forward, nodding wildly. “Help me!”

Kent sits again, and places his chin on his palm. “Just go with what she likes, man.”

“Gee, thanks so much.” The stressed boy looks away, defeated.

Perhaps, it was a mistake bringing it up. Instead of receiving help, they were taking the piss out of him. He thought that maybe, because Andrew was related to the girl he was dating, he’d be a bit of hel-

“She keeps bugging me to take her to the aquarium.” 

Jason whips his head around to look at his friend, crossing his arms on the table and leaning with interest. 

“The aquarium?” He asks, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, they remodeled a few exhibits and she’s been wanting to see them. Sent me a text about it a few days ago,” Andrew reached back to pull out his phone from his back pocket, unlocking it and pulling up a thread of texts from his sister. “Look.” 

The boy takes the phone from his friend’s hand. Y/n had sent her brother a link to the aquarium’s announcement of a reopening that occurred a few weeks before, along with ‘pleeease can we go? pleeease?’ and a puppy-eyed emoji. Andrew had only sent a curt ‘we’ll see’ to which the girl responded with screenshots of seals and penguins. 

A pang hit him straight in the heart, and he was saddened that she hadn’t asked him, given that he had refrained from taking her out in fear of distracting her from her studies. Yet, here she was asking to be taken to the aquarium, and Andrew showed no interest.  

“Take her. Ask her there. The only reason why I haven’t taken her is because she’ll ask for something from the gift shop and they’re expensive as fuck.” Andrew shrugged.

Bingo. 

With a composed look, he clicked off the phone and slid it back. On the inside, he was hopping up and down, pumping his arms with joy because everything had clicked, and he knew exactly what to do.

*                                                      *                                  *

Y/n still felt butterflies every time Jason looked at her.

Every girl wanted to be looked at by someone the way he looked at her.

A soft, dreamy daze that took over his face, eyes shining with an enamored gleam. Lashes fluttering adoringly, and lips coming together in a smirk, like he held all kinds of secrets and wanted to share them with her. His look alone said it all. I want you and only you.

It was overwhelmingly passionate. So intimate; an open admission with no shame. 

“You’re not even paying attention to me,” she whined, flopping over onto her back and throwing an arm over her head. 

They were- as usual- laying on Jason’s bed, with one of y/n’s textbooks spread open in front of them. 

“Can’t help myself,” he pushed up his glasses and raked his hair back. “You’re so pretty it’s distracting.” 

At that, y/n turned herself over so she laid next to Jason again, but her face was still nestled in the crook of her arm where her cheeks flamed. “Stop it,” she said, words muffled. 

“I’m serious.” She felt his weight dip on the bed, his hand coming to brush away hair that blocked the side of her face, and then puffs of air on her arm. Tilting her head so her eye peeked out, she saw that Jason’s mouth was hovering millimeters away from her skin, and when her eyes glanced up, an intense emerald gaze fixed on hers. “Like an angel, you are.”

Fire, heat, tingles littered the areas where his lips pressed against a trail into his skin. A blossoming feeling of affection imprinted onto her arm, and up to her cheek, where his lips lingered right underneath her lashes.

It became too much for her to handle, her heart and mind becoming muddled and confused through the overwhelming sensations that traveled throughout her nerves. Her cognitive senses seemed to refuse to acknowledge the difference between welcomed attention and… unwanted but forced attention. And, in efforts to prevent a hysteric scene or breakdown, she sprung up from her position, pressing a quick kiss into Jason’s cheek so he wouldn’t suspect anything, and sitting so she was almost completely off the bed. 

Jason watched her with… rejection. But, she wouldn’t know that because she refused to meet his eyes. Instead she said, “Have you got marshmallows in the cupboard?” 

“Uhh,” Jason cleared his throat, standing up and heading out of his room. “Yeah, I think so.”

She followed after him, shoulders hunched; ashamed. Mentally, she was pushing away repressed trauma from what seemed like yesterday. A haunting memory that refused to leave like paranoia. 

“Tiny ones or…?” He heads straight for the silver door knob next to the fridge, stepping in to squat at the lower shelves. Y/n stands in the doorway, hands awkwardly at her sides. 

“The big ones, please.” She doesn’t look up when he extends his hand to give her the fluffy white bag, and he doesn’t ask what's wrong.

Silently, y/n walks over to the kitchen island to pluck a skewer out of the drawer, and pops her hip to shut it. Jason lifts himself to sit on the countertop, his white shirt lifting to expose the pale sliver of skin that escaped from his grey sweatpants. Out the corner of her eye, she could see the enticing movement, and it caused her hands to shake, but she hid it in the twisting wrist movement of turning on the stove. 

A tearing noise comes from behind her, blending in with the clicking noises of the stove turning on. Jumping at the startling disruption, she turns to see Jason with an Oreo midway to his mouth. He gives her an open lipped smile, eyes wide as if shocked, and it makes her burst into a chuckle. 

“Can I get one?” She asked.

Wordlessly, he passed her a cookie. She took it, and it seemed that he purposely grazed his fingers over her palm. 

Y/n yanked her hand away like he’d burned her. 

Alarmed, Jason hops off the counter and moves to stand next to her.

“Y/n, is everything al-”

“Do you want a marshmallow?” She interrupted him, her breaths tense. 

“Uh, no.” He said, his head slightly shaking in disbelief at her actions. Had he done something wrong?

The girl stabbed the skewer through the white candy, and twirled it over the flames, the edges quickly turning a golden color. 

“Baby, what’s wr-” 

It catches fire, and her lips blow them off before it turns completely black, the fuh noise that escapes overpowering Jason’s gentle words. She was scared of breaking in front of him. She was scared to show him how much she was holding in.

“Can you hold this?” Voice small and squeaky.

He took the skewer out of her hands, holding it while she opened the oreo cookie. Knowing what she was gonna do, he gingerly placed the melted marshmallow on top of the frosting covered cookie, and pulled away when she sandwiched the top cookie on top.

Y/n takes a bite out of the treat, and relishes in the slightly burnt, woodsy taste of the white taffy and how it melts on her tongue and slides with ease down her throat. So much so, that a small noise of appreciation comes from the depths of her chest.

“S’good?” Jason asked, a breathy-uneasy- laugh whooshing through his nose.

She’s nodding before she looks up at him, and her head stills when she locks eyes with him. 

It’s the same, intense, focused look from before.

The one that promised so much. And it just- god she was so confused. 

So confused that she leaned forward to kiss him, disregarding the fact that- in that moment- she didn’t want affection. She needed a bit of distance and time to process her emotions.

 And instead of doing so, she lunged and connected herself to him in a smoldering embrace of their mouths. A sudden flood of inexplicable physical impressions, claiming, pleading.

Jason didn’t hesitate to respond, his hands appearing to cup at her cheeks, thumbs gingerly rubbing on the apples of her cheeks. He breathes deeply; a sharp inhale into her mouth that pulled his frame taught against hers. The forgotten treat pressed up against the divot of his pectoral muscles. 

The instant his tongue snaked into her mouth, he was bombarded with the warm and sweet taste of her mouth. Marshmallows and just her essence crowding over his taste buds; his nose also breathing in the fruity scent of her hair and woodsy burnt candy. Urgently, his lips suckled on her lower lip, y/n gasping at the sudden, ardent actions. 

Had she been any other girl, that would have been the night she finally let herself have sex with Jason. 

The mood was right; they were both bleeding mad for each other. 

But, y/n was y/n and that’s not how she was wired to go. Her mind began again with the confusion, her heart rate picking up double the rates from both the proximity of the boy and what was going to happen if the kiss continued. Did she want this? Fuck, of course she wanted this! Why was she…

“She’s not gonna do it because she’s a prude!” said one of the girls in the room. 

“No, I’m n-”

“Yeah, you are y/n. You’re a virgin. Probably wouldn’t even know what to do,” said the same girl.

Y/n had been invited to a party that the cheerleaders in her class were throwing, and boys from rival school had been invited to. They were all sitting in a circle- enough people to fill up the living room of a rich man’s house- playing a game of truth or dare, and they’d just gotten to y/n. 

She’d gotten dared to give one of the football players of the opposing school a blowjob… in the middle of the living room, with everyone watching. When they all saw her face fall, redden, and then pale,  no one wasted time to verbally pounce on her hesitance.

“Look at her! She’d pathetic Marcy, she’s not gonna do it.” The girl who invited her, Marcy, looked at her with a smirk. 

Embarrassed, and just numb to everything that was going on around her as well as what may come depending on her decisions. All she knew is that she needed to do this because she’d look bad if she didn’t. She didn’t want to be known as a prude. Even if she was a virgin. She didn’t want to be thought of badly. 

“Yes, I will.” Her meek reply had silenced the whole room.

“Come over here, and blow me.” Chris was a sophomore that was known for his promiscuous ways, and the fact that he had a big… that was evident when y/n came to kneel in front of him. 

Shaking, she sat in front of him with wide eyes, her back burning with stares and her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her hands. 

Throughout it all, she felt disgusting. Ashamed. And unable to breathe because the guy wasn’t letting her come off, holding her down with a strong grip in her hair. Tears burned on her lashes and down her cheeks, partly from being unable to breathe, and the other because she was scared. 

God, she was so scared. What would happen to her when this got out? What then? When everyone knew what she’d done? There were more than enough witnesses present to attest that she’d given head to a guy she didn’t even know.

She’d felt a hand on her breast, and her eyes snapped open from their painful clench; alarmed. The guy sitting next to Chris had leaned over to touch her, and at her scared look he only laughed and continued to do it. His hand trailed lower and lower, and eventually she felt something hot spill down her aching throat. Her ears were ringing, her eyes bleary. 

Much of how she escaped had been... blurred through her panic.

But the feeling… that dreadful, terrorized feeling. It was what deer felt moments before being impacted by a car. 

She’d never forget it.

It was the same feeling creeping up on her then. The niggling, freezing, ambushed fear. It’s the reason why she pulled away from him, and said in a wet whisper, “I can’t.”

She hugs her arms across her chest, oreo still in hand, and turns away with her eyes dropped to the floor.  Y/n’s mind is reeling, utterly confused and just so scared scared scared.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jason asked, trailing after her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. His lips are a dark shade of pink, the skin of his cheeks a flushed color; if one were to look down, they’d see the heather grey color of his sweatpants was slightly lifted. But his arousal was pushed aside by his concern towards the small girl, who shivered when his fingers grazed her shoulder. He could see her eyes were shut closed, but a tear escaped to roll down her cheeks, and at that the thick hairs of his brows dipped to crinkle on his forehead. “Y/n?”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, her words hitching and cracking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Jason pulled her into his chest, his head shaking no no no to her apologies. “There’s no need to be sorry, dovie. It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

“But I am! I so sorry, Jason. I-” Her words died on her tongue, collapsed by a series of sobs that ruptured out of her lips. She was guilty. So so guilty. She felt like she was lying to him by not telling him of what had… occurred. 

“Baby, baby, hey. Y/n,” He pulled back to cup her face with his hands again, forcing her to gaze into his calm, forest eyes. “Listen to me. Deep breaths,” he began to inhale, his chest expanding with the intake of air. “You’re okay. I’m not mad at you for anything, dove.” 

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Y/n sets the cookie on the counter, and goes to wipe at her eyes roughly, Jason tugging at her wrists and doing it himself, shushing her as he does. 

“Well I can’t be mad if I don’t know, yeah?” He gives her a small smile. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“N-no,” she shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay.” He nods, still smiling. “That’s okay. I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready.”

Y/n just nodded and gave him a sad attempt to seem happy, but her chin began to tremble, crinkles appearing underneath her lip, and she rushed to dig her nose in the crook of Jason’s neck. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I wish you’d tell me what’s got you so upset.” He murmured into her hair, his arms wrapping around her. 

“Please, Jason. I don’t wanna,” She sniffled. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Alright. I’ll stop asking. Don’t wanna stress you out anymore, dovie. You need a break as it is.” Jason rubs a warm hand up and down her back soothingly when he feels her nose dip into his collarbone. 

She sniffles some more, a slight hiccup in her breaths, and Jason continues, “speaking of breaks,” this catches her attention, and y/n tilts her head so she’s able to rest it in his shoulder and look up at his side profile. “Would you like to go to the aquarium with me next week?” 

At this, her head springs up so she’s eye level with Jason, her wet eyes gleaming as a surprised smile plays on her mouth. “The aquarium?” 

“Yes, the aquarium.” Jason laughed at her response, his eyes flitting between hers. The skin of his chin crinkled because he was looking down at her, and y/n wondered how he still managed to look so good with a double chin. “A little birdy told me you’ve been wanting to go.” 

Squealing, she said, “Oh my gosh, Jason please! Can we?!” 

Jason pressed a small kiss to her nose, “Of course, silly. It’s why I asked.”

“I’ve been asking Andrew but he….” she trails off, and her eyes become squinty, “heeey, did he tell you?” 

“Mayb-” She jumped suddenly at the feeling of her phone vibrating in her back pocket. The Simpsons theme song blaring through the quiet kitchen, and letting her know her brother was calling. Most likely to tell her it was time to come home. 

“I’ll go get your stuff,” Jason mumbled, separating himself with a wistful look in his eye. 

Y/n mumbled a ‘thank you’ and fished her phone out of her back pocket, pressing the green call button and holding it up to her ear.

“Hey, lover girl. Mom says it’s time to come home. See ya,” and he hangs up before y/n can even respond. 

Rolling her eyes, y/n heads upstairs to help Jason pack her stuff with all her troubles plaguing her heart like weeds.

*                                                      *                                  *

Y/n had eased up a little on her avid studying habits because the SAT had passed, and she studied hard enough that she wasn’t planning on re-taking the exam-- no matter the score. In addition to that, there was enough to place on her shelf to make her look… well, better than good. Years worth of community service work, volunteering, participating in and starting clubs, all about to finally pay off. It was surreal. Kinda stressful, too, but now that she had time off she wanted to decompress. Enjoy herself some. 

To begin with, much of it was taking time off with herself. Meaning, no Jason, or Andrew, or her parents. Just her. She didn’t even have to explain to Jason that she wanted to be alone because after her initial comment of taking time off alone, he’d kissed her palm and murmured about how proud he was against her skin. No bitterness or spite attached. He’d even made a joke about ‘bro time with Andrew’. 

The gym nearest to her house was offering a free month trial-- which just so happened to be the amount of time she was planning on taking to relax before starting to study for finals again-- and she took it up instantly when she found out that they offered yoga and guided meditation classes. It was most likely the best thing she’d ever done.

Apart from getting an hour of physical exercise a day (because yoga is harder than it looks) she was the most relaxed ever. Her sleep was the best it’s been in so long, and her body felt so light. Time to reflect, she’d decided, was very important.

 Plus, her self-esteem had gone up knowing she was doing something to better herself for* herself. 

For the most part, that was how most of her days went.

Go to school, sometimes she’d eat lunch with Jason, get a ride home from him (the goodbye kisses ignited her), head to the gym, come back home and fall right asleep. She took advantage of the first three periods to finish any work that she had to turn in.

It’s only logical that she’d be nervous the day of her date with Jason, since it hadn’t been on her mind at all, and she hadn’t been spending time with the boy so his presence has not consoled her. An anxious fervor had plotted itself in the depths of her belly, goading her like a devil on her shoulder. Better watch how you act, it said, or you’ll fuck this all up.

Jason was the same way. 

The poor boy had also taken to working out to release his...stress. Sleepless nights were spent with the weight-rack in his father’s home gym- arms aching from the strain of bench pressing. Shirtless torso draped in a sheen of sweat, flushed a pink color and littered with prominent veins as he pulled his body upwards, jaw clenched and mind focused, having already reached the point where he listens to his body’s begs for mercy. Rhythmic release of tense breaths escaped through the hard line of his lips, muscles defined under a glint of perspiration beneath the lights of the room, shorts low on his hips. His curls dripped salty beads down the line of his nose, and matted on his forehead. 

He lost himself in the repetitive movements, body going numb until his brain turned off. 

It was almost better than sex. Hell he did it to forget about sex.  

He swears his body chose to betray him every time he was getting ready to fall asleep, projecting filthy images of a girl so sweet, he felt guilty just humoring them. Swollen red lips, hot mouths, soft hands, perky breasts blotchy with his marks. These pictures were so explicit and vivid in his brain about y/n, who was nothing but sweet and kind, and had never come close to even insinuating the things he imagined. 

Hell on earth-- torture is what it felt like, having to ignore sticking a hand down his pants and pulling at himself until he found relief with such an innocent girl on his mind. It made him feel icky and gross because she was so pure. Jason preferred to turn to exhaustion of his body rather than pleasure. And, more often that not he greeted his father’s gym with a scowl and determination to distract himself, pushing himself until he was nothing but a breathless, strained heap laying all tired-out on the bench, salty beads running a path down his forehead and dripping down his neck where his shoulders drooped-- defeated.  

Waking up the next day was a burning adventure; muscles feeling as if they’d been shot through and pricked with needles over and over again.  

But, his dignity was still intact and he was able to look y/n in the eyes with no remorse. The one time he’d jerked off to her, he was a sweating, burning mess as he made his way up to her in the halls.

He’d learned his lesson then.

His nerves didn’t run as deep as y/n’s, but he did second guess himself the more intricate his plan got. Take a certain route, be there at a certain time so there wouldn’t be so full, alert the personnel of his presence. 

Jason had approached his mother, Anne, the night that she had come home, and questioned her about her friend’s sister that worked as a zookeeper, to see if she had connections to the aquarium. Turns out, she did and-and, 

“Honey, what’s the sudden interest in Penny’s sister?” She looked up at her son while chopping green onions. 

Stammering, he rubbed his neck and said, “I was kinda… wondering- maybe, uhm… you could call in a favor for-for me…”

“What for?” 

“I wanted to ask… y/n to prom at the uhm.. The aquarium,” his cheeks go pink and he can’t keep steady eye-contact with his mother. She’s smiling at him knowingly, smiling at him from underneath the lip of the wine-glass she holds up to her mouth. 

She smacks her lip, “Y/n? The prom? When did this happen?” Anne smirked at him, scraping the onions off the cutting board with a knife onto the pan. 

This would be the moment where the distraught teenage boy goes off on his mom for being absent and not knowing a single thing about him. Slam his firsts against the counter-top while sneering. 

But Jason loved his mother and they maintained good communication, so there would be none of that. “Start of February…” He bites his thumb.

The sound of sizzling onions is what fills in the silence of their gazes. His mother slowly nodded her head, and Jason blushing. 

“I knew it.” 

Jason furrowed his eyebrows at his mother’s statement. “What?” 

“I knew this would happen. I knew it the day she first came in with Andrew. The instant you said her name, I knew.” 

Jason furrowed his eyebrows at his mother’s statement. “What?” 

“I knew this would happen. I knew it the day she first came in with Andrew. The instant you said her name, and that look in your eye…” She gleamed at her son. “You love her, don’t you?” 

The boy gaped at his mother. Had he really been that transparent from the beginning? So much so that not even he had noticed his feelings? “You knew?” 

“Course I did. Pushed you out of me didn’t I? Know you like the back of my hand.” His mother set the glass down and continued cutting vegetables. “It’s a mother’s instinct to know when her boy has been swept off his feet.” A soft pat on the cheek meets a dazed Jason. “Now, what’s this favor you wanted?” 

*                                                      *                                  *

Y/n was scared to admit how deep her feelings were for Jason.

Scared to admit that the usual fluttering gnaw at her ribs had developed into an inferno that took over her entire body, centering at her heart and spreading through her nervous system, leaving her skin a tingling network of her emotions.

Basically, take puppy love, and remove ‘puppy’. She loved him. With her entire being and more she loved him. She could see her life with him more secure than anything in her life, which was a big admission because the poor girl was all about security. And Jason made her feel more comfortable than anything in her life at that moment; he made her forget about anything that wasn’t them together in that moment. 

The morning of their date was like one of those scenes in movies where the character just has that really big realization, and all her feelings hit her at once. Y/n pieced it all together in a few seconds. How much he meant to her, how she loved him* and how scary it would be if she were to admit her feelings and receive nothing in return. 

It was at cause of these thoughts that her nerves revved up to their max, mind overthinking different ways that her feelings might cause this date to go wrong. Like something might slip from her lips; a rushed, urgent proclamation of her devotion full of jumbled stutters and met with a stunned look and a freshly single boyfriend.

“Honey, Jason’s here!” Called her mother at the base of the stairs. 

Y/n watched herself grow pale in her reflection, teeth sinking in her bottom lip. No turning back now. 

“Coming!” She took one last look at herself, pulling on the sleeves of the cardigan she layered over the long, white-eyelet dress she was saving for an occasion like this. It was a light, summer material with white embroidered flowers and a nice frilly detain around the waist. The creme cardigan served no purpose other than the fact that she was nervous, and covering up calmed her down. There wasn’t much to cover, but bare shoulders made her heart want to start a riot, screaming at her that people were looking and it was time to get anxious about whether she looked good or not. 

She forced herself to tear her eyes away from the dewy makeup on her face, drawing her mind away from picking at it until it was perfect because it would never be that and it’s okay. Instead, she focused on what lay ahead of her for the day— and maybe that was a tad bit worse but that didn’t matter because she was already in the witch’s pot and the brew was boiling— her date with Jason looming with possibility. Not to mention, she’d finally be getting to see the newly added exhibits she was longing to see. 

Cute baby sea lions, penguins and jellyfish that quickly outweighed all the disastrous scenarios filling her mind. 

Skipping down the steps with an eager smile on her lips, y/n struggled to hold in all her happy squeaks because downstairs Jason was waiting for her and-

“There she is!” Her mother greeted her at the base of the stairs, and winked at her daughter with a smile, a cheeky expression displayed upon the fact that what was happening was a surprising event. Her little y/n going out on a date with none other than her favorite out of Andrew’s friends, Jason.

This would have been the moment in the movies where everything freezes and everyone else disappears. The camera comes to a zoom in on Jason and y/n’s faces, the screen split in half but it the same, dreamy, loved-up expression on both their faces. Y/n’s cheeks warmed with a soft flush and a cheek splitting grin on her mouth, lips that shined with the gloss she had put on them, and eyes that shined under the kitchen lights with an extra sparkle that had floated up from her chest that had become the cavern where she shoved all her emotions.

Jason is equally stunned, unsure of how his girlfriend could get any more beautiful. Bunny teeth on full display, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. He wore a satin bomber jacket with a tiger on the lower right side of his abdomen that was perched on snow-capped mountains that stretched up to his chest, a swooping eagle on his left breast. Two buttons were left unclasped, the collar of a white under-shirt peeking out, and the dip of his breast-bone on display, highlighted by the glint of the golden cross necklace his grandmother had given him when he was eight.

Meanwhile he took in the sight of her, y/n did the same as well, eyes roaming all over his figure and settling on the eyes that were already set on hers. He loved how she turned a pretty bothered color when they locked dreamy gazes. How her demeanor changes to shy glances when he smiles at her all toothy- his dimples prominent on his cheeks. The boy straightened, looking proud to be able to take her on a date. 

“Well are you guys gonna stare at each other all day, or go to the aquarium?” Andrew asked. He was standing at the kitchen entrance, a bag of Cheetos in his arm, and one cheek bulging with chips. 

“Andrew!” His mother playfully swatted his bicep. “Be nice! You’ll be the same, just wait.”

“Ready to go?” Jason asked, giving a sluggish nod towards the door, his being still transfixed in y/n, who nodded equally as slow even though her heart raced a mile a minute. “Alright, let’s go then. I’ll bring her home before 10, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Y/n walked towards the hand that Jason stretched out for her to grab, her hand swimming in his. It suddenly made sense why he was able to launch a football 400 meters. His hands were big, with a wide palm and nimble fingers that wrapped around hers, the top of it striped with the pleasing ridged of his veins. 

“Bye, hunnies! Have fun…. But not too much fun!” The mother clutched at her chest, her eyes soft at the sight of Jason opening the door for her daughter. 

“Ew, mom!” Andrew said, crumbling the bag to a close and retreating up the stairs, presumably to his room. He stopped at the base, and turned to say, “And I’ll be here, the brother forgotten by this best friend, woe is me!” 

His friend twisted around with a hand on the doorknob, “You know I love you, babe!” 

Andrew said something stupid along the lines of ‘show me, ya stud!’ before his mother shushed him up and waved at the couple that it was okay to leave, approaching the doorway to lock up.

Y/n peeked sideways at Jason, finding him already looking at her with a cheeky smirk. 

“Caughtcha looking,” He said, taking hold of her hand again and giving it a mall squeeze, leaning over to peck her cheek. “Missed you, y/n.”

She wanted to stop and pull him in by both sides of his face to smash their lips together, but she knew that her mom was probably watching through the window. “Wanna kiss you good so bad, but my mom’s probably watching through the window and I don’t wanna hear about it later.” 

“It’s okay, baby, I know. Wanted to ravish you when I saw you coming down the stairs, but that’s not the most appropriate thing to do when my girlfriend’s mom is present, is it?” They reached his car, and he sped up slightly to open the door for her, placing a hand on the small of her back. The grip on her phone increased at the sudden warmth on her body, her mind jumping to dirty assumptions on where this could lead to. 

She got in the car with a quiver in her belly, and it jolted away when Jason shut the door behind her. What was she thinking? Their relationship was built upon glances and sly touches, and how she was flustered in a non-sexual way over him? Strongly?

“Did you wanna get food anywhere before?” He said when he opened the door to his side, leg hiking up and to the side to take a seat. “Dunno ‘bout you, but I’m really really craving those chicken-avocado paninis from that one little coffee shop, and I know you really like their milk tea, what do you say?”

“I say that’s a really good idea.” Y/n said, nodding with a pinch on one side of her face, her true feeling hidden. Eyes trained at the way he held the steering wheel; one hand at 12 while he turned the key into the ignition. Maybe he would hold her neck while the other rubbed at her…

What the fuck? She needs to cut it out. 

Clearing her throat and looking out the window she said, “I could definitely go for a milk tea right now…”

“Yeah? Are you excited for today?” He twists to check behind him before pulling out of his parallel position to the curb, and y/n uses that moment to glance at the smooth skin of his neck, imagining how it would feel underneath her fingertips… her mouth…

“Yes,” She chokes, saliva collecting at the back of her tongue and slipping through. There’s a small pause where she coughs, and Jason plucks a bottle of water from the glove compartment, the back of his hand grazing her knees and the tops of her thighs, which only makes her cough harder. 

“Are you okay, my love? Here,” using the flat of his wrist to take hold on the steering wheel while he opened the bottle, “drink some. I don’t want you to die before you’ve seen the jellyfish.” 

A feeble ‘thank you*’ left her lips before the water bottle occupied it. The liquid washed out anything that had agitated her, and she drank extra to fill the time for at least a few more seconds. She was terrified of doing something wrong. 

The car was pulling up the parking lot of their local cafe when she placed the bottle in the cup holder between them. Jason didn’t have a clue what was going through her head, or the fact that he should be concerned because her thoughts had traveled to him fingering her while she made a mess of his seat. He was simply so grateful to be spending time with the girl who he loved. 

Who he loved.

The boy had realized the extremities of his regards after his mother had spoken them aloud. 

You love her don’t you?

Yes, yes he did. He had known that it was there. The guzzling, spritzy feeling he felt over his chest- like when a sip of a freshly opened can of Sprite goes down your throat- when he saw her, felt her touch, thought about her, had always been there. Always. It was there the day he bumped into her outside of the locker room, her tiny frame going unnoticed when he rounded the corner of the locker room where she was waiting for her brother because he was busy texting some girl, but the moment he heard a squeaky ‘oh, I’m so sorry!’, it was there. 

In some aspects, Jason was a bit dense, and this was one of them. He didn’t act when he should’ve. Or at least recognized what was going on in that broad chest of his-- he doesn’t think he would’ve acted because Andrew wouldn’t have held back. They hadn’t developed such a strong bond to come to the understanding that they did (Jason had made a really bold statement about life long partners and Andrew had been too blown away to stay mad). 

Jason loved y/n, and he always would; that was just facts.

“Wanna stay in here or go inside with me?” He asked her, taking the key out and placing a hand on the door. 

She was lightning quick to say “With you!” a bashful look overcoming her when he looked at her all knowingly, like he could see right through her. “I’ll go with you so you don’t have to carry everything,”  y/n blubbered in efforts to reclaim her dignity, and stepped out of the car. 

He feigned being hurt, “Owie, that stung. Are you saying I’m not strong?” Jason followed after her, a playful pout in his lips, “Tell you what,” he placed an arm around her neck, tugging her close to him and putting his lips by her ear, “I can carry you and the food, at the same time.”

Tables with umbrellas were located at the front of the cafe, people sitting with their computers open or having a chat with friends. Some looked up, some didn’t, but the stares of those who did made y/n feel thousands of times shyer than what she felt. 

The girl couldn’t help but squeeze the fabric of her sweater around herself, her thoughts getting the best of her, the feeling of his lips an enticing action that drove her mad…

He knew it too, chuckling to himself as he opened the door. 

Inside, only a single person made up the line for ordering, and she was already in the process of giving the man her card to pay. Jason and y/n stood side by side, looking up at the menus as if they were thinking over their choices, but really just thinking about each other. 

“Nex- Well, well, well.”

Y/n doesn’t think she had ever forgotten that voice. And hearing it ten, with Jason at her side, brought back the fear she hadn’t even begun to overcome. Her face went white, her lungs freezing, and her feet glued to the ground. 

Shock, was the medical term for it. 

When your body is submerged into temperatures it can’t handle, it goes through a series of procedures to attempt survival. It begins to slow down to conserve energy, shutting down to keep in heat, or await help. Hearts slow, lungs slow, and in extreme, abrupt situations, a person can faint. 

At the appearance of Chris after nearly an entire year, y/n wanted to faint. She wished she had, that way she wouldn’t have to endure Jason’s confused glances, and Chris’s malicious, salacious smirk. 

“Y/n, long time no see, baby.” He said, a piece of gum that he had hidden in his cheek appearing as he started to chew, leaning forward on the counter and giving Jason a once over. “Who’s that?” 

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed at the audacity this guy had, calling his girl ‘baby’. Y/n wasn’t looking at him, she couldn’t- she wasn’t aware of what was happening anymore, retreated into deep parts of her brain- but had she, she would’ve seen a bone-chilling, intimidating look of dominance in his usually kind green eyes. “I’m her boyfriend, who are you?” He said, stepping forward so his thighs were flush with the edge of the counter. His body was pulled tight like the strings on a violin, one pluck away from releasing a disastrous melody. 

Y/n’s eyes began to tear from not blinking them, her heart going from beating normal to beating so hard she could feel it in her fingertips, her stomach dropping like it had been ripped to her feet. 

“Who am I?” Chris licked the inside of his cheek, and y/n gagged. Repulsed, her feet tripped over themselves in attempts to get to the trashcan by the pickup site. “There wasn't even anything in your mouth, babe! Guess that thing they say about muscle memory is true, huh?”

Jason didn’t pay attention to the last thing that he said because he ran over to hold his girlfriend’s hair, rubbing her back and whispering that ‘it’s okay, my love, take deep breaths’. Her body started to tremble when nothing came out, her eyes emitting actual tears now, feeling undeserving of Jason’s affection because of what she’d done.

“I’m so-rry,” she whispered, her face a splotchy, red color that made him panic on the inside at what could plague her. “Can we go?”��

“Yeah,” He nodded quickly, no questions asked.”Yeah, let’s go.” 

Y/n shot up then, practically running out of the store while Chris laughed a belly-clenching laugh that pushed her out further. Jason looked back at him once, anger on clear display because whatever the guy had done, it was bad if it made her this upset.

When he turned around, y/n’s figure was disappearing  through the view of the store’s window, arms clutching herself as she ran to the parking lot. There were more stares than when they first arrived when he ran out after her with a call of her name. 

“Y/n!” He turned the corner to see her yanking violently at his door handle, tears streaming continuously down her cheeks now. Her shoulder jerked back and pushed forward until her knuckles collided on the material of the car. She was hurting herself. “Hey!” He yelled, yanking her back and wrapping his arms around her torso to restrict her movements. 

She thrashed for a few seconds, sobs leaving her until she went limp, which was when he let her go. His eyes were wide with concern, not being able to believe what had just happened. 

“Dovie? Look at me, dovie,” With a curled finger, he gently encouraged her to look at him. Irritated, doe eyes blinked with...  fear. 

“Do you want me?” Were the words that left her mouth in a breathy tremble. 

“I always want you,” Jason said, not hesitating to respond to her abrupt inquiry. His thick brown eyebrows were still knitted, however, and she knew that she owed him answers. As much as she couldn’t bring herself to give them up, y/n said,

“Would you want me even if I was used?” She shut her eyes tight, not being able to bear looking at him. It felt as if she were the one using him then, comforted by his presence, but lying to him as well. 

He scoffed, head shaking. “Yes. Even then I’d still love you.” Jason’s composure remains the same,neither alarmed or shocked that he had let it ‘slip’ past his lips because he hadn’t. He loved her and he told her. 

Y/n, on the other hand, burst into tears and dropped her head, her forehead on his chest, chanting a pathetic, “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Y/n, I need you to tell me what just happened,” He crooned into her ear, his lips kissing her head in attempts to show his affection to comfort her, “Let me help you.” 

She shook her head, and the gold zipper of his sweater scratched her forehead when she did. “No. No, I’m sorry.” She looked up at him, her voice pleading, “I don’t want to ruin our date. Can I tell you after?” Jason looked at her with lips pressed into a firm line. “Please.” She begged.

“Not gonna ruin our date, dovie,” He kissed her right cheek, and her eyelid, the bridge of her nose, and nudged his forehead against hers, “Spent so much time waiting for you, that I’m not gonna let a silly thing break us apart. I’m willing to fight, y/n. I already have.” He fumbled behind her, unlocking the door and propping it open before he pressed a kiss to her lips. A deep press that conveyed everything he just said. I love you.

A shaky, relieved breath left her when they parted, her eyes still shut when he said, “Get in the car, my love,” with another, plushy kiss to her lips before he stepped back to see her get in the car. Her eyes opened slowly to see him smiling at her, no trace of anything strange in his eyes- like he had forgotten everything that happened in the past 10 minutes. 

Y/n mumbled an ‘okay’ and got inside, putting on his seat belt as he closed the door and walked over to his side. She wondered if this was it, if this was her messing up and at the end of the day she would be crying into her pillow because he’d broken up with her. If e was just playing nice because that was just Jason, his MO.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice that he had turned on the radio until he started singing along to it. An oldies station that he always had on if there wasn’t any music coming from his phone. It was in the middle of Prince’s Nothing Compares 2 U to which Jason didn’t hesitate to start singing. 

“I went to the doctor’s and guess what he told me, guess what he told me,” he looked over at her while he was singing, a playful look in his eyes, and he shimmied his shoulders. It was a classic ‘sing to your girlfriend so she’ll never forget this song and always associate this song with you’ moment. 

“I went to the doctor’s and guess what he told me, guess what he told me,” he looked over at her while he was singing, a playful look in his eyes, and he shimmied his shoulders. It was a classic ‘sing to your girlfriend so she’ll never forget this song and always associate this song with you’ moment. 

“He said girl you better try to have fun no matter what you do,” his singing voice was a direct reflection on his character, smooth like honey, but deep and slightly scratchy like the comfort of burning wood, “but he’s a fool.” 

Just then, his voice gets a little louder, “Cause nothing compares to you.” He placed a hand on her knee, his lips forming an exaggerated ‘o’ shape on the ‘you’. Jason was clearly singing to her, his eyes flickering from the road to her as a sweet gesture to direct his words to her. 

Y/n sniffled and laughed, using her finger to trace the veins on the back of Jason’s hands, looking up at him while he sang to her. She had the sudden urge to reiterate what he had confessed in the parking lot. How it swelled in her chest, and consumed her. 

But she couldn’t. It was hard and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he didn’t know the whole truth about her. Instead she wrote it on his hand. Her caresses going from random to spelling out letters on his knuckles. He noticed this. How the movements were calculated now, and the singing stopped. Green eyes went from the road to her eyes, to the road to their hands.

I love you, too.

She wiped her hand over his when she finished, and didn’t dare look up at him, so she looked out the window but left her hand in his hold. He brought it up to his lips, and kissed her knuckles, rubbing his lips over them repeatedly.

*                                                      *                                  * 

Jason stepped out of the car, and took long, quick strides over to her door, y/n admiring how long and muscular his legs looked in his jeans. He pulled the door open, leaning back so the door could swing past his torso, but staying relatively close to the car, giving her just enough space to get out. Y/n didn’t think anything of it, until she stood, and was face to face with his face, her nose swamped with the toned down scent of fresh, spring scented body wash merged with the soft smell of his skin. 

Given how close she was, she could see the lines on his cupid's bow where his skin color changed from a golden tint to the strawberry of his lips. 

“Can you kiss me properly now, baby?” He said, voice low and raspy. Hands came to flatten on the hood of his Prius, caging her in so she was close to his torso. A blush formed from the way he stared at her mouth like he was starved. 

“P-properly?” She muttered, her hands taking purchase on his hips, and smoothing up his sides, the material cool under her hands. 

“Yeah,” He licked the inside of his cheek, his head tilting, “Like this.”

Jason pushed forward until her back hit the car, and their hips were flush, y/n’s hands stuck between them, but she maneuvered them to she could palm at his chest, her nails digging in like cat’s claws when his lips found their way together, pillowed between each other in a passionate embrace that warmed her to her toes. 

“Mmph, baby ‘ya marking me with your fingers,” He spoke in a sotto voice, heavy breaths and wet noises of their smacking lips resonating through their ears.

It took everything in her not to moan, and she knew that if they kept going it would be inevitable, so she unclenched her hands with a reluctant squeak, and ducked her head into his neck. Breath hot on his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, no. I… uhm, I liked it, my love. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t be shy.” He flexed his jaw, his eyes rolling at the back of his head at recalling the feeling of her hands- dainty and small, and sweet,, and god* it was just her*- clawing at his chest. Jason dipped forward, and kissed her neck. His lips staining her skin with scorching heat, the soft skin creating a magnetic force between them. 

She moaned at that, her teeth scratching at his neck tentatively.  “Stop it,” Her head felt floaty, her limbs soft, “Wanna see the fishies and the way that you’re…” “The way that I’m what, dovie?” He’s stunned by her moan, his brain haywire. “Tell me.”

“The way you’re talking is gonna me make me wanna stay here, and I really wanna see the fishies. Please?” She’s whining; voice an embarrassingly high pitched tone. Her hands gripped the collar of his sweater for stability because her knees were shaking. 

“Alright. Alright, let’s go see the fishies, baby.” Jason pecks her one last time at the juncture of her neck, and takes a step back to grab her hand. “Come on.”

*                                                      *                                  * 

 “So, they’ve got McDonald’s, Tam’s Burgers, Ruby’s Diner, and Sushi.” Jason holds a tri-fold directory of the aquarium in one hand, and y/n’s hand in the other. 

“Sushi? At an aquarium?” She skews half her face to the side like she tasted something sour. 

“I know right?” He copies her face, “The irony. Up for burgers? It’s all they’ve got.” 

Y/n’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food, and she giggled when Jason noticed and laughed at her. “Burgers sound good,” she said, rubbing her stomach comically.  Although she was still heated by their earlier interaction, both were pretending like nothing happened, and like they didn’t have a big thing waiting for them at the end of the day.

Like she wasn’t going to reveal how sh-

“Anything for you, baby.” Jason Jason held up the tri-fold again and blew out of his lips as he made out the route to Tam’s burgers. 

When they both got there, they ordered the same thing: one cheeseburger with a vanilla milkshake. Oh, and they were sharing chili cheese fries.

It was the epitome of a perfect date for a young couple in love. They chose to sit on the same side of the booth because they were greedy to get everything they could from each other. Unnecessary touches were made more than the amount of things they said to each other. Him brushing hair behind her each, hand on her thigh, rubbing her cheeks, feeding her, wiping her mouth, her arm hooked through his, pecking his cheek after a sip of her milkshake, nudging his feet with hers, caressing his thigh. It was on the rubbing his thigh part where things would get slightly heated, and Jason would stop to kiss her, licking into her mouth to taste the vanilla that was also on his tongue.

Jason paid for their meal, much to y/n’s begging, and then walked her over to the penguin exhibit.

“Heard one of their eggs just hatched, and I want you to see it.” He said, swinging their hands between them.

“Really?” She asked, her features lifted with excitement. “Well then let’s go!” Y/n ran ahead of him, looking back at him and pulling at his arm. Laughing, they swerved around people and ran past the large tank that represented the reef ecosystem, blue light from the sun that streamed through the top of the tank dancing on their skin like shadows. It was a magical moment, even though they looked like weirdos. In their head they were in their own movie, their own world.

 “Jason, honey? Is that you?” A woman in green cargo shorts and the customary blue shirts with the aquarium’s logo on the left breast called from the inside of the penguin expedition. She had raven black hair in a low bun, and red lipstick paired with a bright smile. She was feeding the animals from  two buckets on the edge of the pool where they were jumping in. 

“Hey, Janet!” Jason called out, waving from behind the glass barrier. “Long time no see, have you gotten younger?” 

She laughed and turned around, walking through an archway and disappearing from view. A male walked out, and smiled towards the couple, nodding once and turned his attention towards the penguins. He whistled once, and they all came to him, huddling around him expectantly.

Then he bent downwards and placed the back of his hand on the penguins tummy, pressing back and they waddled backwards. He did the same to four others, pressing them so they were in a straight line, and they stayed where he placed them. Janet came out then, with black objects in her arms. 

“What are they….” Y/n asked, confused as to what was going on because she had been to this aquarium several times and had never seen such things. “... doing?” 

Janet removed one of the items from her chest, and y/n could see that they were large letters. A ‘P’ which she placed at the feet of the first penguin. ‘R’ on the one following. They rested against their bellies, and after an initial peck at it, they left it alone and watched their keepers expectantly, presumably for food. ‘O’ followed, then ‘M’. And as the question mark was being laid on the last penguin, Jason turned to watch his girlfriend’s face, waiting for the realization to hit. It didn’t take very long.

“Oh my gosh, Jason, look! Look it spells prom!” She pointed at it excitedly, a smile from ear to ear as she looked on at the animals, amused by their antics. She looked over at him to share her glee, and found him watching her with a dreamy smirk. “Look at the animals! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Will you go to prom with me?” 

Y/n’s jaw dropped, the full realization hitting her. This had been planned, more specifically, Jason had planned this. “You did this?” She asked. Looking back and then at him again as he nodded slowly, still waiting for an answer. She stood there for a moment, stunned, and after a blink she jumped into his arms. “Yes! Yes! Yes, I want to go to prom with you!” 

He didn’t waste any time in wrapping his hands around her waist and twirling her around, laughing. Kissing her cheek, he set her to her feet and she was watching him with bleary eyes, a pout on her lips. “You did this for me?” 

“Technically, my mom did, but yes. Had her call in for me. Did you like it?” He put his hands in the pocket of his bomber jacket, his lips puckered as he tried to conceal a proud smile. 

“I love it, so much, Jason I-” She’s left speechless, and she glances up at the animals again, where Janet and the other keep were throwing fish at them. “Thank you.” The tips of her fingers came to cover her mouth, tears of joy threatening to slip. 

“Don’t cry, dovie. You weren’t supposed to cry,” he cooed, slipping his hands out again to wipe at the tears that fell down her cheeks.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Leaning up on her tip-toes, y/n abruptly yanked at his jacket, and crushed their lips together. 

“There we go! Your mother would love this!” Janet whooped, and her cheers caused the couple to split from each other with red faces, laughs covering their embarrassment. 

“Hush up, and let me kiss my girl will ya?” Jason pointed a finger at her and pretended to scowl. “We’re leaving to somewhere where we can smooch in peace!” Nearby people laughed at his jokes.

“Bye, sweetie! Tell your mother I said hello!” She waved goodbye, and returned her attention to the penguins at her feet. 

Y/n waved a goodbye along with Jason, yelling a ‘thank you’ as she walked away. Her brain was still trying to process what had happened when they turned the corner and walked into the new exhibit of the darker layers of the ocean. A long, winding hallway where the only light was the glow coming from the bio-luminescence animals in the water. 

An influx of serotonin swimming through her veins, squeals leaving her where she noticed where they were. 

“The jellyfish!” She left Jason’s side to stand in front of the large glass. An abundant amount of jellyfish bobbed up and around each other at slow, hypnotizing speeds. Glowing, long tentacles swaying in their trail; networks of veiny light streams present in each of them. The blue hue reflecting off of her skin, and onto the pane where it showed her amazed reflection.

“They’re beautiful,” she mumbled. Jason caught up, and stood besides her, his figure also appearing on the glass pane that held the jellyfish. “I could watch them all day.” 

His eyes drifted from the jellyfish to her side profile, admiring how ethereal she looked in that moment. Her face was soft with curiosity and wonder. “Me too.”

“You’re not even looking at them.” She gives him a side-eye glance. 

“I know.” He turned so his feet pointed to her, and combed his hair back because a few curls were tickling his forehead. “Can’t believe I’m gonna have the prettiest girl as my prom date.” 

Y/n’s nostrils flared and she sucked in her lips to suppress a smile. “Stop it.”

“S’true. Everyone’s gonna be so jealous of me.” He sucked in a breath, “Gonna have to hold on to you so no one steals you from me.” 

She knows he means every word that leaves his lips. And that the words are meant to tickle her heart with their honesty. While they do so, they also break it. Y/n thinks she’s living a lie. Not her relationship with him, but the way she acts and portrays herself. So much of herself, she kept hidden. It hurt knowing that he was being so genuine, and she wasn’t. It hurt more than knowing he could break up with her if he knew the truth. 

So, she decided to come clean. Even though they decided on the end of the day, her conscience wasn’t letting her live. 

“Jason, I have something to tell you.” She said, her throat closing up on the second syllable of his name, and crying by the end of her sentence. 

The boy brings his palm to her lower back, and moves his thumb up and down comfortingly. “Deep breaths, y/n. I’m listening.” 

“That boy?” She tilts her chin so she’s looking at him, and he nods when they make eye contact. “From the cafe? I knew him from a party.” Deep breath. “We were playing truth or-” a sob leaves her, shoulders sagging as her composure breaks. 

Jason raises his hand from her back to her shoulder, and steps closer so she’s pressed against his chest. “It’s okay. I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving you. Take your time.” 

It would’ve been a lot more embarrassing if people were passing, but they were the only ones there. Had there been someone, they would’ve seen a terribly emotional y/n and a very concerned Jason. 

A creeping feel of panic like the one from that night teased her toes, anxiety of her confession crawling up her spine. But she had to push through. She needed to get this off her chest. 

“We were playing truth or dare, and… and I got dared t-to suck him off in front of everyone else,” another hiccup interrupts her words, and she had to stop to take a deep breath like Jason said, giving him an ashamed, fleeting glance.  Not long enough to see that his eyes were wide with astonishment, eyebrows furrowed with bubbling rage.

“What?” He said, more on the rhetorical side to encourage her to keep talking. His mind kept jumping back to the guy at the cafe and the way he said ‘there wasn’t anything in your mouth, babe’ with a knowing look in his eyes. How he practically violated her with his eyes. Rage filled him; all he wanted to do was punch the guy in the face. 

Anger made itself present in his stunned comment, and y/n took it as a disgusted comment. She jumped to explain herself, “I didn’t want to do it! I swear I didn’t put they started calling me names, a-and I didn’t want them to be upset with me so I-” another collapse of her words, chest rising and falling with desperate breaths. The panis increased, rising up to her chest and gripping like a boa. 

Jason knew that she needed reassurance on that moment and said, “Sh, sh Dovie, deep breaths. It’s alright, I know you didn’t, my dove. That’s called peer pressure.” 

It was clear that this was something she struggled with for a long time, and it hurt him so much inside that he had so blindly lived in the presence of her pain. Held her, touched her, and never noticed that she was so deeply in pain. The anger in him became a mix of bitter remorse at the fact that he had done nothing to push at her, or present himself in a way that showed she could trust him. He was unaware he was crying too until his own vision became blurry with moisture. 

“I left right after he… after he…. Because the other boys started touching me, too. That was when you found me under that tree. Remember?” Shiny doe eyes glimmered with the light that came off the jellyfish at him. They seemed to beg him for forgiveness, for understanding that she was sorry.

“Yes, sweetheart I remember.” Soft fingers crawl up her cheek, caressing like silk at the tears that still fell. Kisses were littered in her temple with strong pressure, a display of his comfort. “Oh, I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, baby. It’s not your fault.” 

“I should have said no. I should’ve l-left or something…”

“No. No, y/n this wasn’t your fault. This wasn’t on you. You were under pressure, and they were bullying you as well… Oh my god, baby, this- You don’t want to tell authorities?” 

“No! No, no, Jason I can’t l-let anyone find out I did…” Her eyes shut with distaste, “That. Please, don’t tell anyone.” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He nods.

“Do you still want me?” Her cross, and her nails dig into her arms. Y/n bowed her head and sniffled. Jason took note of this, and pried her hands off so she wouldn’t bleed. His heart clenched at the tone of desperation in her voice. It hurt him to even think that he’d leave her so easily, and his words came out more emotionally tainted than he would’ve wanted.

“Y/n look at me.” His hand cupped her cheek, and the other held both of her wrists. She wrapped her hands around his wrists and squeezed him tightly. “I’m not leaving you. Can’t you understand that I love you, baby? I’m not leaving you, not now.”

“God, Jason. I don’t deserve you.” Y/n leans into his touch, sniffling.

“No, dovie. You’ve got that all twisted. It’s me who doesn’t deserve you.  You’re so good to me, so kind, and sweet,and I’m so so sorry thing happened to you. But it’s gonna be okay, yeah? We can work through this, I’ll be there by our side. I won’t leave.” The boy followed after her eyes, wanting to maintain eye contact with her, but she was shifty with her gaze. He wanted to be able for her to see-- in his eyes-- that he meant every word.

“I love you.” Y/n jumped into his chest and wrapped her hands around his neck, happy to be free of guilt, and blissfully happy that she had Jason. That he loved her, and she was able to tell him that she loved him.

After a moment of just standing in each other’s arms, head’s buried in each other’s neck with Jason muttering into her ear just how much she meant to him, they stepped back  to look at the other, and y/n laughed halfheartedly, wiping at her eyes and underneath her nose. Quiet ‘thank you’s were exchanged and they took one last good look at the jellyfish in silence. Y/n suggested they go home, and Jason said he wanted to stop by the gift shop first. Something about how how he needed a polar bear to hold onto at night.

In reality, he bought her the sea otter she wouldn’t stop petting, and a key chain with the date engraved on it. He didn’t give these to her until they were in front of her house, and he reached into the bag behind her seat.

“These are for you.” He said, placing the stuffy on her lap, and the key chain on her open palm. “A memoir. The first time we said I love you... among other things.” 

His tone was serious, mouth set in a grim line, but y/n was smiling.

“I knew something was up when you told me to wait outside. Thank you.” Leaning over the console, they both met each other halfway, and kissed each other goodbye. At the first taste of her lips, he removed his hands from the steering wheel in favor of having them on her face, holding her too him a few seconds longer than she usually would have let herself stay kissing.

“You’re welcome, dovie. I love you.” He said, pecking her lips once more, and then her nose, making her laugh through her nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll call you tonight. Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you, too.” She opened the door, and waved once more at her boyfriend who smiled at her from inside the car.

Y/n was slightly upset over he fact that he hadn’t gotten out to walk her up the steps, and in any other situation, he would’ve. But out of his eagerness, Jason waited until she was inside, and lifted his hips to get his phone out of his pocket, calling the one person he knew would have his back if he wanted to set things straight.

It rang three times before he picked up.

“Andrew. It’s an emergency. Come over to my house tonight. Don’t let anyone see you leave.”

[ilkkawhat]

Can you do a ficlet or a full fanfic where it's Nick hopelessly pining after Greg?

gonna call this one “a night that we can’t replace” on ao3, bit of a retelling and expansion on another fic I wrote called “what’s it gonna be? cause I can’t pretend”

~~~~~~~~~~~

There are a lot of things that changed for Nick in the summer of 2005. 

A burial that he’s still digging his way out of, his hands blindly reaching out for anything, anybody for him to grab onto with desperate fingers and a pounding heart that hasn’t stopped beating no matter how much damage was done to it. 

Lucky for him, plenty of people were reaching for him, too.

He connected with a lot of people after his latest near death experience, and it was hard not to given the circumstances. He couldn’t have prevented his parents from flying in when they were told about the kidnapping—though if it were up to him, they would be none the wiser just as they hadn’t known about the many gunpoint incidents or the stalker and they had come very close to finding out about the window fall before he made a rash decision to change his emergency contacts to someone who was in the city of Las Vegas that he trusted more than his own flesh and blood. 

He couldn’t have prevented the whole damn department showing up to the hospital, haunting the halls as they both protected him from harm and looked in on him to witness this miracle; the man who was buried in a coffin, alive, and lived to tell the tale. 

And he most certainly wouldn’t have prevented the core team from reuniting over his bedside in a vigil that he told them they needn’t waste in doing. He was fine. He wasn’t going anywhere. He’s happy to see them, and happy to be alive.

One by one they took their leave at his insistence—Warrick was the hardest to convince, and Nick knew that the minute he closed his eyes and opened them back up, he’d be back in a heartbeat and he loved him for that—but he asked Greg to stay, just for a minute.

He had a lot of time to think in the box, until an infestation tore apart any of the life revelations he may have had...all except one. 

The one where he realized, that Nick Stokes loves Greg Sanders. 

He didn’t know how to go about saying it but at the same time he felt it didn’t need to be said in a verbal sense; before Greg could get a single, nervous word in, his clammy, bumpy hands reached out and latched themselves onto Greg’s arms and pulled him into the box—No, he’s not in the box, not anymore, he’s in a bed, a bed with Greg—and stole the air from his body because he’s suffocating and the fan is dead and he needs Greg, he needs to be with Greg, he needs Greg to want him back—

The one-sided kiss is broken off by Nick when he realizes that he could easily just be making a mistake, that Greg is just frozen in shock and not reciprocating, that this is all just a symptom of his oxygen-starved brain and soon his eyes will really open to expose the truth of his perpetual entrapment into a closeted darkness with only a green glowstick to give him any sort of light, because he shot out his chances a long time ago.

Perhaps he came on too strong, he thinks, when Greg does what he expected and runs out of the room.

He doesn’t talk to Greg for days. For weeks. For months and it drives him mad. Grissom keeps sticking him on cases with somebody else, he keeps seemingly avoiding Nick whenever they see each other in the lab, and it’s not until he, Sara and Greg embark on a road trip for a case out of town that they finally confront each other.

But every moment in between a night he regrets and a night that he can’t replace is filled with a feeling he’s never quite felt before.

He’s had crushes, sure, and has moped around his house in his teenage years out of loneliness, and carved his name with another’s on tables and trees, and had wet dreams with whispers that can be heard by the eye that watches him from above, but he’s never struggled harder with his lust than his crush on Greg.

Looking back on it, he was helpless from the start. Hovering over shoulders, stolen glances from across the hall. Playful, teasing flirts that had a large amount of weight. The nicknames, the offerings and requests for assistance. The physical contact that only Nick can initiate or else it feels weird to him, but he’s never grabbed anybody’s shoulders as hard, or kept his hand on someone’s back as a show of support for longer than a second without making it weird.

And it's not like the other crushes he's had in the past, where he realizes that perhaps it wasn't a crush on the person he thought and yet another one that was right in front of him the whole time—his first homosexual experience and attraction to somebody was born out of his supposed crush on a sorority chick across the street—but this time, his admission of love has done nothing but haunted him and somehow made it worse.

"Bro, you gotta stop doing that," Warrick told him one day while they were eating lunch in the breakroom.

"Doing what?"

"Those wide ass puppy dog eyes. Y'ain't gonna run outta soup cause you keep drooling into it. Just go and talk to him, man."

Nick shook his had.

"I can't. I-I made it too weird already."

"So? Sanders is weird enough as it is."

Nick nearly knocked over his bowl of soup.

"How do you know it's about Greg?" he choked.

"Oh, come on, Nicky, you make it so obvious. Just go and talk to him," Warrick repeated.

"Warrick," Nick growled.

"Look, here he comes now!" Warrick whispered, nudging Nick from across the table as Greg approached them.

"Hey, guys—"

"Hey, G!" Nick got up from his feet, a little too quickly, and Warrick slaps his arm and gestures for him to sit back down.

"Hey..." Greg started with a little more hesitation. "Grissom just handed us this case in Lincoln County. Sara said she'd meet us there, I figured to save gas maybe we could carpool?"

"I'll carpool with you!" Nick smiled with almost too much exuberance. "A-and hey, maybe we can save on motels, get a room together too—"

"It's...a quadruple homicide," Greg furrowed his eyebrows with a frown on his face.

"Yeah, good idea, Greg, we'll meet you in the garage," Warrick broke the tension and once Greg left, turned to Nick and asked with wild eyes, "What the hell are you doing?"

He really had no idea, just as he had no idea how the car ride would go anywhere other than a complete train-wreck, but to his absolute surprise, a miracle happened instead.

Warrick decided to drive out with Sara, using his wife as an excuse which is not the first time and wouldn't be the last, which left Nick and Greg alone to drive together to a small little town in Nowhere, Nevada. A life changing case for Nick that begins before they even leave Vegas.

"Greg, listen, I-I think before we go, we-we gotta talk..."

"Well, three hour drive, I figured that's what we'd be doing," Greg laughs. "Why have you been acting so weird lately?"

"Me? You're the one acting weird!" Nick squeaks. "It's-it's like you've been avoiding me ever since..."

"The hospital?"

"Yeah," Nick gulps.

"Nick...listen I just...I needed time, to you know...catch up to you. I mean, you got a head start, after all."

"Guess I did," Nick smiled sadly. "So...what do you—?"

Greg cuts Nick off with a kiss, not unlike the same one Nick gave him in the hospital. He breaks it off and leaves Nick hopelessly lingering for more.

"There's a lot I have to tell you, how I came to this...conclusion that I came to."

"Oh, really? And what exactly was that...conclusion?" Nick asks with another seductive lean towards Greg, a coy smile on his face because he knows exactly what Greg is thinking, because he's thinking it too.

Still, he wouldn't mind hearing it.

"How about I begin at the beginning?"

[cosmicclownboy]

Alex has been stirring his milkshake for half an hour his fries completely untouched getting colder by the minute. Alex loves dipping his fries. What the hell?? Michael knows somethings up his Alex senses are tingling. Getting their friendship on track has been a struggle at times but he fought against his need to put his face on Alex’s face to support Alex’s needs. He knows it’s not the Forest breakup. It was amicable they even went to a concert as friends the other day. So it’s not Forest. And it’s not him because Alex smiles a lot more recently at him which his alien heart isn’t prepared for in the slightest. The Alex Manes protection squad protocol has jumped out so he’s surveying when he can get a minute to maybe see if Liz has any details. When Alex sighs for the third time before quietly excusing himself to pee it’s when he hops to it.

The responsible party for making Alex Manes sad isn’t a person.

It’s a rocking chair. His grandfather’s rocking chair.

The last storm that hit the reservation had wilted whatever life was left in it. When Greg went to sit down the next evening the thing snapped in two.

“Alex once told me his mom used to rock him in that chair before she left and that his grandparents took over until he could sit in it himself”

Beautiful loving memories his father never touched it’s not hard to see why he’s sad. Alex slips back into the chair chewing with an air of disgust at the cold plate of fries he’s doing it for Liz’s benefit no doubt.So instead of watching his soulmate dejectedly chew cold potato Michael concocts his brain into action.

He calls Greg for starters asks if he can maybe take a look at the damage.

“You can take a look but there’s not much to look at the wood mites have been at it for years”

And upon inspection, the rocking chair is very much dead. There was no way he could bring it back to life and sadness washes over him. He can’t take away Alex’s pain in the way he wants to so he kindly asks Greg if there’s a picture he can borrow.

Woodworking is a pain in the ass. He’s been to several woodworking classes when he started out under Sanders's thumb he knows chances are you aren’t leaving without a splinter or two. And making a rocking chair is probably one of the most intricate and difficult things to make. Yet he’s clutching a photo of a young Alex playing with trucks in front of the chair happy as Larry. And maybe Michael wants to make him happier then any Larry he could find.

It takes months of blood sweat and tears he pours all of his unspoken love into it. Is it the best thing he’s ever made?  probably he’s been hyperfocused on it wanting it to be perfect. Alex’s birthday is in a week and he’s nervous. He has made one alteration. The detailing in the head of the chair and the arms are still exactly like the one previous but when he was working on the legs he was thinking about Alex - how brave and beautiful he was and he wound up doing something a bit different for the legs. One of the legs is littered with music notes and stars winding up and stopping three quarters away from the top. Even if there are days in the world where it gets hard for him he wants Alex to feel like he fits.It’s his home and he matters.

The little shit winds up working on his birthday. He can’t tell who’s more pissed himself for not getting to spend time with Alex or Isobel who was planning a party. He knows Alex will be tired working on his feet all day and he probably shouldn’t park his truck on his garage but even he’s worked a six-hour shift it’s still his birthday. And he misses him.

Alex is a little stunned when he spots him swinging his legs on his tailgate humming judging by his warm smile he’s greeted with he thinks maybe Alex wanted to spend part of his birthday with him too. Alex has stopped attempting to date. They've held hands twice. It feels like everything's finally falling in their favour.

“Please tell me I am not going to walk into a surprise party with streamers thrown into my face. I've already had my unit give me a very special cake that I really can’t unsee”.

Alex spends the better half of three seconds juggling the keys and the cake box before Michael takes it off his hands. He's ushered into the kitchen. 

“You almost did but I dissuaded Is. You still are getting one Saturday though so make sure your free and act surprised. Now let me see this monstrosity”

The box is flipped open on the counter and WOW. He's holding a laugh Alex is staring him down for a second before handing him a fork.

“Since I have a poor lack of restraint when it comes to cake.Head or balls?”

 They don’t eat the whole thing that’s a whole level of buzz neither one could take at this hour. Somehow after Alex takes a sip of his wine he takes a tiny step closer to him.

“Is it bad that I’ve had so many people wanting to celebrate me but all I wanted to do was see you” his hand finds his cheek softly tracing it.”Everyone kept asking me what do you want for your birthday and all I could think about was this”.

He slowly steps into his legs to which Michael enthusiastically opens his legs to him.Yes to all of this yes to the touching yes to their lips meeting and kissing.Yes.Yes.Yes.It isn’t until Alex is on top of him on the couch tracing his neck with kisses he remembers he hasn’t given him it yet.

“Oh um I got you a present. Well, I made you a present. Long story. Is it okay if I bring it in? you have to close your eyes though”

Alex softly nods lips puffy dazed from kisses. God, he’s beautiful.

How he manoeuvres the door without squeaking it and the chair is anyone's guess it all pays off the moment Alex opens his eyes. Alex is so bewildered and taken aback he’s almost choking on air. Eyes watering looking up at him with the most achingly soft eyes is the love of his life.

“You did all of this for me? It must have taken forever the detailing it’s just ......how?”

“I know you Alex.You don’t care about objects or have a materialistic bone in your body. It doesn’t matter what you have it’s the memories. Liz could give you a pair of socks and you would treasure it because that’s who you are. And you’re just...there’s a lot of ugly people on this planet seen the worst of them you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And your majestic ass deserves a throne”

He wipes away the tears holding him as he can trying to throw as much unconditional love towards him.They wake up to one another that morning knowing there isn’t going to be a day they won’t.

Takes three months to realise he’s already sort of moved in.His clothes are in spread about in drawers.His books his plans are all decked about the house along with little mementos of their relationship.He finds his boyfriend in the garden book in one hand reading watching their dog prance around the grass.It’s so domestic it hurts.And as he sits on a battered lawn chair he realises something is missing....His rocking chair. This is the big leagues the endgame. And when Alex sings a song about growing old together in rocking chairs he takes the concept and runs with it. For the first time in a long time Michael slaves on something purely for himself. He puts nods of Alex’s chair to his, of course, wanting them to be almost a matching pair but he covers his in constellations, the cosmos the galaxy. When he finally finishes and places the chair next to Alex’s holding a book it’s the first time it hits him. He’s finally home.

[onisionisacanceronthisearth]

Why we care about Onision and Coolguykai’s kids (Masterlist)

There’s a lot of information floating around about the kids but I don’t know if anyone has made a post compiling it all together so I figured I would do so. Also because an “argument” used again the anti-o community is that “we’re creepy for even thinking about kids” so I figured I’d show that we’re not just thinking about them for no real reason. For some slight background information, they have an older son around age 7 and a younger daughter around age 4. This is written in bullet form under the cut with bold sections for easier/quicker reading for those who would prefer that. Feel free to add more if you know anything and I’ll keep updating this post. Eli=Kai

Update: The girl fell 12 feat out the second story window to the ground giving her a depressed skull fracture. This was because Kai was cooking and left the child alone in a room with the tv and a caprisun while they were cooking and James was in the garage. The right side of her head was caved in and requires constant monitoring. The girl was known to climb the furniture and also known for standing at windows by the couple which is why the windows are supposedly kept locked to protect her. Even then, she was left totally without supervision and fell as far as she did right onto the driveway. She may have serious brain damage. James filmed her body while Kai comforted her because he was paranoid it would be seen as his fault (the video wouldn’t absolve him of anything, he’s just an low IQ dumbass). James also made a lot of awful sexually themed tweets while he was in the hospital with his potentially dying daughter. Here and here are links to the full police report, the daughter’s name was redacted due to her age

Greg refuses to talk with children who cannot speak properly yet. Besides the obvious stupidity behind this (children learn to talk from being spoken to), giving a child the impression that they are only recognized for what they can do for their parents is an emotionally damaging thing to do. It’s also damaging to show emotional neglect which Greg is doing by not caring for his children beyond the uses he has for them

Greg and Eli will have sex in front of their kids and while sharing a bed with them. Early exposure to sex is harmful for kids and despite the obvious fact that Greg isn’t a dom, he still does have rough and harmful sex with Eli and the other girls they bring in for threesomes. We have seen the marks on Eli’s neck, we now know those kids likely have seen Greg give them to him. There was an incident where the boy was in the room on a tablet while his parents were going at it right in front of him as well as the now infamous story that the first time Sarah had a threesome with the couple (Greg and Eli suddenly started having sex without Sarah’s knowledge or consent then she joined after), the daughter was in the bed with them too. They would start and stop sex as the girl kept waking up because they were right beside her on the same bed

During a blackout once, Eli decided to vlog about it. In the video you can see one of the children under the table with a tablet shining in their eyes. Instead of comforting the kids they were told to hide under the table with a tablet while their parents vlogged about it. The parents then promptly went out to eat. It’s unsure if the kids went with them (we didn’t see them in the vlog) so either the kids were out with them while their parents spoke quite vulgar in the car, or the “loving” parents left their two very young children alone at home during a blackout with nothing but some tablets to keep them happy

Overall it does seem like the parents think that tablets are an adequate babysitter for toddlers. Even if that toddler isn’t in the same room as them. That is very obviously not safe nor a good substitute for caring for a child. Given the accident the girl had, it’s clear they think that if they leave an active toddler in a closed room, totally out of sight, with a tv that that’s safe

They chose to parent their children using the “gentle” and “attachment” parenting techniques. They do not implement these styles properly however on top of the possible negative effects of these parenting techniques. This has resulted in:

Not ending breastfeeding at an appropriate time or with the proper care required for prolonged feeding

Breastfeeding at night without brushing teeth afterwards resulting in the boy losing his teeth at age 2

The boy not being told to not be physically violent with his sister or dealing with the child’s violence but instead instructing him to punch Greg instead (the boy will push his sister off the couch for example).

Sleeping with the children despite the couple clearly wanting sex constantly as mentioned above

And all the other complications of never telling your child no, never introducing new things to them or imposing rules or restrictions, having one parent refuse to give you boundaries while another that doesn’t even care to talk to you half the time, etc. The parenting style is meant to be gentle, but this results in, as stated above, not telling the children not to hurt people either

The children supposedly only had one friend (or at least the boy did) which was Maddie’s daughter. Greg and Eli spontaneously decided to end their relationship with Maddie resulting in their son losing his only friend and playmate. Given the nature of the split from Maddie, it’s clear their son was not a factor in the decision at all (not saying you have to remain friends with someone for the sake of your kids but the decision to drop Maddie was bullshit and clearly selfish)

While baby sitting his and Maddie’s kids, Greg refused to change Maddie’s daughter’s diaper and didn’t even bother telling Maddie about the diaper being full. This resulted in Maddie coming back to find her daughter covered in feces and it had been on her daughter long enough that the resulting rash caused her daughter to bleed. Greg clearly doesn’t give a shit about babies (no pun intended) and makes me wonder how often his children’s diapers were messy and he did nothing about it

The Jackson house is FILTHY and not suitable for children. Just recently I posted one of Eli’s videos and it contained a part where Eli saw the dog walking around with food in its mouth that Eli didn’t even know where it came from and not even phased by it. Food being left out is a mold and bacterial hazard on its own, very harmful for children. But it’s also teaching kids bad habits and also if the dog could find it, kids could too and toddlers love putting things in their mouths

Greg used to have a large sex doll that had no business being in a small house with children running around with no supervision

Greg’s initial wetland work created a direct line to the lake they live on, that’s a serious drowning hazard, especially for someone who didn’t think he could watch to make sure his kids wouldn’t walk to a tree that could hurt them. He has also now planted (or at least bought) poisonous bright red berries among a bunch of edible ones. So much for worrying about the kids...

The diet of the Jackson family is atrocious. It’s already showing negative effects on the parents but that is much less dangerous than having malnutritioned children. The children are growing and developing and they require proper nutrition for this, not doing so can result in many dangerous complications on top of both mental and physical stunting of growth.

Update: Greg’s daughter has been seen recently in a video and yes, she is crazy small for her age

Greg has been reported as yelling at his child and blaming said child for “causing them to lose” a game. This was reported by Maya while the three of them were playing a video game and were teamed up together. Greg literally yelled at his toddler for not being perfect at a fucking video game not only turning the game into being about winning, but putting expectations on a child that just should not be the case. As a parent, and even as a younger sibling it can even be beneficial to let them win because otherwise it would be unfair to play any games with them, especially those requiring larger amounts of skill. You wouldn’t expect David Beckham to play soccer with his kids with the same vigor he’d play professionally would you? And if you’re playing a game as a team with your kid and you want to win, it’s up to you to play better to make up for the obvious difference in skill when a toddler is playing

Speaking of Maya, when yelling at her for refusing his advances he spontaneously laid on her without her consent and with no real warning (it was intended for her to be another one of Eli’s girlfriends and she was brought over, as far as she knew, to meet with Eli to see if they were compatible in person), Greg was actually holding his child and running in and out of the room screaming at her. The subject matter alone was inappropriate for a child to hear (Greg asking why she was not sexually attracted to him because “everyone was” for example), let alone being carried by a screaming man running around the house. It almost seemed as if Greg decided to use his child as a human shield because there was no other reason for him to pick up a child to bring to a room where he was going to scream at a young woman. The child couldn’t even leave if he wanted to because he was being held

There was audio in the background of one of Eli’s videos where you can hear Greg scream to “take some fucking responsibility for once”. This was either directed at one of his very young children, or yelled at someone else in the house or on the phone loud enough for the children to hear. Again, not a good environment for these children to grow up in

During a livestream the boy once entered the room to tell Greg that he loved him, Greg didn’t respond back in kind. I get that Greg likely wanted to get the kid out of the livestream for his so-called privacy, but that doesn’t stop him from from quickly responding to the kid while doing so. Especially in a private livestream with people who know of your kids and are waiting in line to enter into the household as a third

The children get to watch Eli flinch and otherwise act scared of Greg, they may not understand it, but their brains will remember this. It is also encouraging them to be more scared of their father than they already likely are

James gets mad if Kai turns on the heat even in January. Toddlers and children can be quite sensitive to the cold and it doesn’t matter how he feels, what matters is his children (which clearly isn’t how he feels)

Update: A recent video of the girl has shown that her hair is a sad mess. At that age the girl’s hair should be bright, shiney, and healthy looking. Unfortunately it is unkempt and dull. It would look like her hair is washed too often with bad products and not brushed as it should be on top of visual signs of deficiencies leading to unhealthy hair. I’d take a potshot and assume this child were deficient in amino acids and other healthy fats if she were brought to me (disclaimer: I cannot officially diagnose anyone over the internet). It may also be due to her horrific accident

[winged-fool]

Hiii! I just saw that you finally watched episode 4. I didn’t hate the episode but I definitely thought it dragged up until those last five minutes and those last five minutes made the episode for me. I’m going to drop my weekly round of head canons before going back to practicing some self care because I’ve been having bad brain days this week but I love sharing my head canons with you.

🧡 I’ll say it again if I was in charge of coming up with plot points or had a talent for writing I would have made Flint and Rosa childhood friends, then season 3 double down on racist Wyatt. I’d have had Rosa and Flint have a conversation about how learning the truth about her murder radicalized Flint. Rosa could have been a good allegory for the MMIW crisis and it would have given space for a conversation about generational trauma. But also I want Rosa to have a friend that’s just hers. Not a friend she has to share with Liz and I want Flint to just have a friend who platonically and in a familial way loves him unconditionally. It also would have made the Helena Flint team up make sense without making it icky.

🧡 I feel like Flint would have been really protective of Alex and Kyle. Those three were probably their own unit. And he definitely took it as a deep betrayal when Kyle turned on Alex which is why he was borderline hostile with Kyle in Caufield but also didn’t do anything to cause Kyle physical injury. I’ve always kind of wondered what Flint’s perspective of the Valenti family is anyway because they grew up with Kyle but apparently Jim knew they were being abused by Jesse and didn’t do anything to remove them from the situation and get them into their mom’s custody.

🧡 I ship Flint with therapy first and foremost and the last thing my murder child needs is a romantic relationship. But my crack shipping heart screams Flint/Kyle. I am really digging Kybel in canon, but they teased me one to many times with queer Kyle and now a part of my brain is really intrigued by the possibilities of Flint/Kyle and what would that relationship look like? But I also really like the idea of Flint being ace/aro and being the favorite uncle to Malex’s future kids and a very loving dog dad.

🧡 look if Roswell New Mexico is going to go the way of OG Roswell and give everybody Max left his handprint on powers then I think my sweet sweet murder child Flint deserves powers as a treat. And as interesting as it would be if he, Liz, and Rosa all got Max’s power, making the need for Max obsolete. I would actually find it interesting if Flint developed an alien power we haven’t seen yet. And I would also like Michael to leave his mark on Alex and they both have telekinesis and the ability to walk through fire unscathed. No powers for Greg though. Greg doesn’t need to be catered too more by the writers

🧡 and while we’re at it, let’s have Flint with his newly acquired powers avenge Kyle and unalive Jordan. Is it because Kyle was like family or my crack shipping heart finds the dichotomy of Kyle “do no harm” Valenti and Flint “Will do serious harm” Manes interesting as hell? Yes

Oh and if you’re still interested I wrote a story and posted it on AO3 earlier this week. It’s called A Woman Out of Time and my pen name is Bangpop91 🍤🍤🍤

Hello my friend! Yes I didn't mind the episode that much either, I heard it was boring and kind of confusing but I thought it was fine! I mean it was still leaps and bounds better than any s2 episode lol although that's a low bar...

Ughh I would have loved for Flint and Rosa to be childhood friends! Like you said, it just would have made more sense narratively on why Flint would have teamed up with Helena! And it would have been super interesting to bring in the MMIW crisis - especially given how vocal Kiowa is about it! I just feel like it could have been a really genuine storyline especially with the setting of NM where Indigenous and Hispanic issues are super prominent.

I really would have loved to see more of Kyle Alex and Flint's interactions! I've always thought that the three of them were probably the closest growing up so I love the idea of Flint being protective of Alex when Kyle turned on him! I just wish we could get more Valenti-Manes lore.

Ahahaha I've never considered the possibility of Kyle/Flint! That would be such a fun crack ship. I personally don't hc Kyle as queer just because I don't like the trope of a homophobic bully is actually queer himself, but that's just me! I totally respect other people hc'ing him that way! But I do love the idea of Flint being aro/ace!!

Omg yesss I love the idea of Max going around giving people powers via handprint and Flint absolutely deserves those powers hahaha. It's the least they can do for him. And yeah, no powers for you Greg, you're too perfect as it is...

Uhhh yes that's perfect, let Flint step in and take care of avenging everyone. I love the idea of him being respectful of people not wanting to hold grudges but he turns around and avenges them on their behalf lol

Ooh! Yes I will definitely give it a read! I'm busy today so I'll try to read it this evening!! As always, I absolutely adore your hcs and thoroughly enjoyed this week's!!

[jamesphillimoresumbrella]

WIP challenge

Tell your blog the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them and then tag five other writers.

I was tagged by @thetimemoves​. Thank you!

I re-read the instructions, saw the word “all”, and went Oh. No. Because, well, I really am quite terrible.

The Sorceress’s Husband - This is the latest one, which pretty much popped into my head fully-formed when I finally realized what the lyrics of Charming Disaster’s Little Black Bird were saying. Meant it to be a quick little one-shot, but it said, nope, it wanted to be a re-telling of A Study in Pink too, aside from being a fairy tale.

005 - It’s porn about porn, from the kink meme, that has taken me years to write, but I wander back over to this one whenever I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore.

The Turning Point - Mystrade for @merelypassingtime, where Greg does ballet and Mycroft makes a habit of looking in on the older boys when he comes to pick his little brother up from dance class. Research for this was fun because I dove headfirst into Mikhail Baryshnikov videos. This needs one more chapter. I have most of it. I am stuck on a transition and have rewritten it so many times.

Only the End of the World Again - a Good Omens crossover for @khorazir, which is set after the events of Good Omens: Aziraphale and Crowley ask the world’s only consulting detective for help to keep the world from ending. Again. But not Armageddon, that’s been and done.

No Earthly Thing – a fic for @consultingsmartass where Sherlock gets cursed with tentacles, that is also a re-telling of The Devil’s Foot. I tore through so much Celtic mythology and fairy lore for this and I need to stop re-writing the third chapter and just plain old write it, I need to get to Leona Sterndale.   

A Study in Emerald-verse companion to The Hunting Dogs - I want to write this one so badly, and have a few lines down, but do not know if I can do it properly, no matter how many times I read The Lion’s Mane and The Musgrave Ritual. 

Persuading Violet Merville - a sequel to The Seduction of John S. Willoughby, which was my first Sherlock fic. It’s meant to be The Illustrious Client and The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax smashed together, and I know what’s getting me with this one is that I can’t write like I did Seduction, churning out a chapter a day, back when I was half-mad and clinging to everything Sherlock like a lifeline.

Shameless – a kink meme fill where Sherlock and John meet in a club, and have a one night stand. They have been stuck in the one night stand for years now. Help.

Out of Innsmouth – a kink meme fill where John has tentacles, and, well. It’s a kink meme fill. With tentacles. That’s still ongoing.

Black Gods and Ivory Boxes - My first foray into A Study in Emerald AU for BBC Sherlock. I want to write the rest of this. I know how it goes. But I need to heavily re-write the extant bits first, because this was from when I was consuming George R.R. Martin and you can tell I was trying for grimdark and gritty, but that just isn’t how I do things at all. 

The Last Night at the End of the World - Adlock. I am very fond of this, but I wrote myself into a corner and need to extricate myself. And them. Help.

Don’t You Ever Tame Your Demons - started for a prompt asking that John be a certain type of incubus that needs to procreate. I, um, don’t know if this one will see the light of day tbh.

Boots and the Glass Mountain - suggested by @bluebellofbakerstreet when I threw out a post asking for fairy tale to smash into fic. I’m excited to get to this one! It would have been my January fic if “Little Black Bird” hadn’t hijacked my brain.

Snow White and Rose Red - @kitten-kin suggested this on the same fairy tale post, and I don’t know how to do this fic yet, but I am determined to figure it out precisely because I don’t know how to do it.

And, because it occupies a significant portion of my notebook and my head, an original story as yet untitled, where an evil spy (just a job title), a warrior (of sorts), a witch who can’t do magic, a goddess’s avatar, and a girl who just wants to go home need the Chosen One to defeat a Dark Lord - only the Chosen One’s mother won’t hear of her going anywhere near the bastard because the girl is seven. Her mother’s coming instead. 

And those are the ones that I am working on, though I might be missing one or two. It’s a horrifically long list, but seeing it laid out like that makes it a little less daunting for me. Now I have a checklist. Yay!

Tagging @merelypassingtime, @bluebellofbakerstreet, @khorazir, @helloliriels, and anyone who’d like to have a crack at this! (Also apologies if you’ve been tagged before and I didn’t notice.)