#but i do have complicated feelings about her

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him. 

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[miedei]

hii, i saw your requests are open, so i was thinking how about spencer and reader have a fwb thing going on, but he always told her not to get attached, so she breaks things off and spencer seems fine with that, until he realizes that she goes on dates with other people so maybe they fight about it and they confess their feelings

YES i love this concept nonnie my love this is amazing

not jealous

wc: 1.2k

ex-fwb!spencer gets jealous, but he doesn't have any feelings for you... right?

cw: a little suggestive i think, i can't be held responsible for the things i think ab spencer reid, wrote this in a fugue state that's the only way i can explain this

(PS: reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

Penelope Garcia is one of Spencer's favourite people in the world, but at this very moment he feels the shameful urge to tell her to shut up.

"Honey, you'd love him! He's a doctor at the hospital a few streets down, so he understands the whole married-to-the-job thing, and he's smart! Just one date, my love, please? You can totally ghost him afterward if you hate him, though I don't think you will," Garcia is perched on your desk, right across from Spencers, so he can't tune this out, despite his repeated attempts to.

You can't help but sigh, staring up at Garcia as she continues to speak. She means well, you know that. You never told her what happened, but she can tell that you've been lonely, and she's doing everything she can to help.

You can't tell her, you know that, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to.

"It's probably best if we stay like this. We can be coworkers, friends. It'd be easier if we stay unattached."

The words Spencer said to you months ago are still fresh in your mind. You'd agreed, drunk on the feeling of being wanted, and you were aware that feelings would make things more complicated. You knew that, and yet-

"Spencer, we need to stop. I can't do this no-strings-attached thing anymore."

"Then we can- we can stop. We'll stay friends, right?"

"Right."

Months of stolen moments, hotel room beds, and tangled limbs had gone to your head, and cutting it off had been the best thing to do. Spencer had made it clear that your arrangement was only viable when both of you didn't have feelings, and you knew that.

Getting over someone is hard enough, but Spencer Reid is worse. He's always there, soft smiles and rambling conversations. He seemingly hasn't been affected by the end of your situation at all.

Snapping back to reality, you look up at Garcia, who's looking at you with a hopeful smile. You can see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, staring at his monitor like he couldn't care less who you date.

It's infuriating.

He's over it! He was probably never as attached as you were, why would he care if you date?

"You know what? Give me his number."

"Yes!" Garcia pumps a fist before swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. "You won't regret this, I swear!" She grabs a business card out of her pocket and hands it to you, squeezing you one more time before flouncing off.

You fondle the stiff cardboard once, before placing it down on your desk.

Spencer hates him. James Lee. The cursive scripture on the business card stares up at him, mocking him as he tries to work. Your desk is always neat, knickknacks all in their proper spot, so the card is out of place, that's why Spencer can't stop sneaking looks at it.

He's a doctor. So is Spencer. Three times over! If you wanted to date a doctor, why not look for him instead of James Lee, MD.

A PhD's much better than an MD anyway. More effort.

He sighs. He's being petulant, he knows that. You're allowed to date people.

Even if Spencer's the one that knows the way you stretch when you've just woken up. Even if he's the one that's felt your skin under his hands. Even if he's the one that's learned how to elicit those sounds from you.

He can't take it any more, rising abruptly from his desk, stomping over to the kitchenette. The coffee pot is nearly empty, and he pours the dregs into his cup, spooning sugar into it with barely restrained movements.

He can hear Emily humming, Morgan tapping his pen against his desk. He can hear you, typing away at your phone.

He can't take it any more.

Stalking over to his desk, he picks up a random file, and stands by your elbow.

"I need to talk to you about this file. Can you help me find the other report?" He all but melts with relief when you set down your phone, following him to the storage room readily.

Being in close quarters like this causes memories to come rushing back, and you can't help the blush that comes to your face. Shaking your head slightly, you look up at Spencer, resolutely shutting out the images in your mind.

"What report are we looking for?"

He looks sheepish, but his eyes are intense as he looks down at you.

"There's no report. I need to talk to you." You tilt your head in confusion, focusing entirely on him. "Don't go on a date with him."

"What?"

"That guy." He nearly spits out his words. "Garcia's friend. Don't go out with him."

What? He's acting weird, completely still as his eyes blaze into yours.

"Why do you care if I go out with him? Garcia said he's a good guy, I trust her."

He shakes his head. "I'm- I'm sure he's normal. Nice. But you shouldn't go out with him."

He's infuriating, dancing around whatever he means.

"Why, Spencer? I think this would be good for me! I want to have fun."

"With him? You don't know him! Why not go out with someone you-" He cuts himself off, his hand flying to his hair in frustration. "Why this guy? Why not someone you know?" If it weren't Spencer, you'd say he was growling, his eyes dark.

Is he angry at you for going out with this guy?

"What? Are you seriously mad at me? For what?" His eyes flash at your words.

"Why date him? Why not-"

"Who would I date? You? Are you angry at me for dating someone else when we never dated at all? Spencer, you wanted no feelings! I did what you asked, I ended- whatever we were, because you said we shouldn't involve feelings!" Your chest tightens, looking away from him.

"What are you saying? You ended it because... Why didn't you tell me?" He ducks his head, trying to meet your gaze. You've had enough. Enough of his maddening words, making you feel bad for doing what he asked of you.

"Spencer, you're being unfair. What more do you want me to tell you? Do you want me to tell you that I wanted more? I ended it because I caught feelings, and you didn't want that, so I told you we had to stop because I couldn't hide it from you, not when we were always together, and-"

You're stunned into silence when his hands come up to frame your face, impossibly gentle as large fingers trace your jaw.

"You're right, I said that." A hand travels higher, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn't have, though. I should've... should've told you."

You can't help but whisper, the intimacy of the moment blanketing the small room in quiet. "Told me what?"

As if in answer, he ducks his head towards you, and you instinctually crane your head upwards to meet his lips.

It's practised, even if it's been a while. Your hands travel up his sides, bracing your palms on either side of his jaw as his come down to grip your waist.

His lips are soft yet insistent, pressing against you like he's trying to impart a message. Lips part, breath stolen, and it's minutes before either of you pulls back.

Your forehead presses against his, chest heaving. His eyes are light, and a breathless giggle leaves his lips as he looks at you.

"Don't go on that date. Please."

"You're going to have to take that up with Garcia."

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, suggestive, arguing

Matt shrugged casually, “Nothing. We just thought there was a delivery at the door.” his voice steady to make it seem convincing.

I felt relief wash over me, thankful for the cover, it would save me having to explain to everyone that my toxic ex just randomly appeared at their house. The calmness in Matt’s response seemed to diffuse the curiosity hanging in the air.

Chris nodded, his suspicion easing, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Oh I’m not expecting a delivery just yet anyway.”

Nick interrupted, gesturing toward Nate. “Hey, by the way, since we didn’t really get a chance last time, this is Nate.”

Nate stepped forward, extending a hand with an easy smile. “Nice to meet you, properly this time.”

I shook his hand in return, flashing a polite smile. “Yeah last time was a little rushed.”

“Oh that’s on me!” Nate admitted with a chuckle. “I was half out the door when we met. Hopefully, this time’s better.”

Nate had an effortless charm about him, different from Chris’s boisterous energy, Nick’s sharp wit and Matt’s cold nature.

The group started settling on the couch living room. Nick clapped his hands together, like he had a lightbulb moment. “You know what? We should do a games night tonight. Something fun before you two head off to Vegas. I’ll call Madi, she’s always up for a games night.”

I’d gotten to know Madi pretty well by now, it was a nice feeling to know I'd have another girl around, even if only for a little while. I told myself it could be a good tension breaker, especially with Nate staying under the same roof for the next few days.

“That sounds fun!” Nate chimed in, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Games are cool and all, but how about we make it interesting? A few drinks maybe?”

Nick grinned. “Now you’re talking!”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d suggest drinking.”

“I’ll go grab the party essentials.” I offered before the conversation could go too far off the rails. “Snacks, drinks, whatever we need. Might as well make myself useful.” I offered since I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe a shopping trip would clear my head a bit.

Chris glanced over at me. “You sure? I can go with you if you want.”

I waved him off. “It’s fine don’t worry. You guys can stay here and have a catch up.”

“Alright” Matt muttered, his tone neutral but his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

As I grabbed my bag and slipped on my shoes as I ordered an Uber. This could be a fun night, I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity about how it would all play out.

Once I got to Walmart, I grabbed a shopping cart and started with the priority - spirits.

I picked up a variety of alcohol, vodka, rum, tequila, and even a bottle of apple sourz. I thought it would be a good idea to pick up a crate of beet too, better to have too much than not enough. Next, I searched for the snacks, tossing in bags of pretzels, 2 tubes of Pringles, chocolate, donuts, and a few other random items that caught my eye. 

I wandered into the games aisle, scanning the shelves for something fun but not too complicated. I grabbed 5 Second Rule and Twister and added them to the cart. I debated on picking up Monopoly, but I know Nick refuses to play it with Matt.

As I made my way to the checkout, I felt a little lighter. The morning had been intense, maybe tonight was exactly what I needed.

The day passed in a blur of light tasks and lingering thoughts. Madi arrived and her presence immediately shifted the energy in the house. She had this way of making everything feel easy, and it was a relief to have another girl around for a change.

We set up around the kitchen table, where I laid the drinks and snacks out. Nate slid into the chair next to me, his friendly and easy going demeanor making me feel comfortable despite everything that had happened in recent days. He was effortlessly charming, asking questions about working with Chris and making jokes that had me genuinely laughing.

Chris and Matt stood nearby, chatting quietly. Chris was his usual goofy self, but Matt's mood still felt frosty. He wasn’t ignoring me exactly, but his responses were clipped, his energy distant. So more or less, Matt was acting normal toward me. I tried not to let it bother me. They’d be leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and maybe some space would be good, for both of us.

“I’m keeping it light tonight” Chris said, pouring himself a splash of whiskey on the rocks. “Don’t wanna hit Vegas hungover.”

“Speak for yourself” Nate chimed in with a grin as he stood and walked to the counter, taking a shot of tequila. “This is a warm up for Hawaii.”

Matt chuckled as he shook his head watching Nate take the shot. “I’m good with a few. Got enough chaos waiting for us tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but think of Chris and Matt navigating the madness of Vegas together. It suited Chris, but Matt? He didn’t seem like the Vegas type. Yet something about imagining him there, relaxed and out of this usual, guarded demeanor, was kinda intriguing.

“Guess that means more for us!” I said, raising my glass to Madi and Nick.

"Alright, enough standing around. Let’s play a game. How about 5 Second Rule? Haven’t played that in ages.” Chris stated, his energy already setting the tone for the night.

Madi cheered in agreement, while Nate gave a nod. "Sounds good, but I’m giving you all a warning, I’m competitive."

“Oh, we know” Chris teased, pulling the game box off the counter and setting it on the kitchen table. "'Mon, everyone grab a seat."

I settled into my chair next to Nate while Matt reluctantly took a spot across from me. Madi next to him with Chris and Nick at each end of the table.

“Alright, rules are simple” Nick said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll read a prompt, and you’ve got five seconds to name three things in the category. If you don’t you lose your turn.”

“Got it” we all replied, almost in unison.

Chris smirked. “Perfect. Let’s see who embarrasses themselves first. I’ll start it off.” He glanced at Madi as he picked up a card. “Name three pizza toppings. Go!”

Madi’s face lit up. “Pepperoni, mushrooms, pineapple!”

Nick slapped the timer just as the last word left her mouth. “Alright, she’s safe. Nate, your turn. Name three sports where you use a ball.”

Nate leaned back, his confidence showing. “Football, basketball, baseball. Easy.”

Nick rolled his eyes as the timer dinged. “Alright, you’re not impressing anyone. Your turn, Y/n.”

I straightened up, bracing myself as Nate read the card this time. “Name three things you’d find in a bathroom.”

“Toothpaste, shampoo, towels” I rattled off quickly, relieved as the timer buzzed right after. “But none of them are mine since I have to keep my things in my room.” I say playfully, my eyes boring into Matt, alluding to the whole bathroom fiasco. He turned away from me rolling his eyes in response.

Chris grinned mischievously as he shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, how about we make up our own prompts, let’s make this interesting."

Madi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Interesting how?"

"You’ll see.." Chris said, leaning forward as he glanced at Nate. "Alright, Nate, you’re up. Name three places you’ve made out in that aren’t a bedroom."

Nate chuckled, completely unfazed. "A car, a beach, a supply closet."

Madi gasped dramatically. "A supply closet?!"

"I mean I havent, not.. yet." Nate replied with a shrug as the timer dinged.

Chris cackled and turned to Madi. "Your turn. Name three things you wouldn’t want your parents to find in your room."

Madi’s cheeks flushed, but she grinned. "A vibrator, weed, and.. And uhhhh–" She paused as the timer buzzed, then groaned. "Fuck! That was tough."

"You were doing so well" Chris teased, shaking his head before turning to me.

"Alright, Y/n. Name three reasons someone might get kicked out of a party."

I hesitated for a second before rattling off, "Throwing up, starting a fight, hooking up with the host’s ex!"

Everyone burst into laughter as the timer buzzed.

Matt smirked across the table, his first sign of amusement all night. "Hooking up with the host’s ex? That sounded specific."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. "It’s just a hypothetical, alright? Your turn, Matt."

Chris scrunched his eyebrows as he thought of a prompt for Matt. "Oh, I’ve got one for you. Name three ways to flirt without talking. "

Matt raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Eye contact, smirking, and-" He paused just long enough for the timer to buzz, then shrugged.

"Come on, you couldn’t think of a third one?" Nick said, laughing.

Matt’s eyes flicked toward me briefly, his smirk lingering. "Maybe I didn’t want to give away all my secrets."

The comment hung in the air for a second, and I quickly looked away, taking a sip of my drink.

"Alright, my turn to stir the pot" Madi announced, turning to look at Chris. "Name three things you’ve lied to a girl about."

Chris groaned but didn’t hesitate. "My age, my job, and.. uh, my feelings."

The table erupted in laughter, and Chris shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say? Gotta keep them guessing."

The game continued, each question more daring and ridiculous than the last, until the room was filled with laughter and empty glasses. It was chaotic, messy, and a little too revealing, but somehow, it was the most fun I’d had in ages.

The vodka lemonade in my hand felt heavier as I swirled it around aimlessly, trying to focus on the game instead of the slight tipsy feeling in my head. Nate was leaning back in his chair, clearly more drunk than anyone else, and grinned mischievously. "Alright, let’s make this more interesting. Truth or dare, spin the bottle style. If you refuse a dare you have to take a shot!"

Madi gasped, laughing as she reached for her drink. "Oh no, this is about to get messyyyyy."

"Messy’s the point" Nate laughed.

“Okayyyy this is my cue to go to bed!” Chris announces as he stands to push his chair in, disappearing downstairs to his room.

Nate rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain before he spun the bottle, it landing on Nick. “I’ll go with dare to kick this game off properly!” Nick laughed.

“Alright I dare you to down your drink and take a shot straight after, since you’re all for kicking this off the right way!” Nate laughs.

Nick groaned but complied, downing the remainder of his drink and wincing as he followed it with a shot of tequila. "You’re the worst, Nate" he said, coughing slightly, but the group fell in to laughter.

The bottle spun again, this time landing on Matt. His jaw tensed slightly, but he leaned back, looking relaxed. "Dare" he said, his voice calm.

Nick jumped at the opportunity. "I dare you to let someone send a risky text off your phone."

Matt’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Fine, whatever. Who’s doing it?"

Nick’s grin widened as he turned to me. "Y/n."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Me? Are you sure?"

"Oh absolutely" Nick said, sliding Matt’s phone across the table toward me. "You’ve got the perfect touch for this."

Matt gave me a pointed look, his lips twitching slightly in what might’ve been amusement or annoyance. "Don’t screw it up."

I picked up his phone, without a need to unlock it since he handed it over with no code needed. As I was scrolling through his contacts, a message popped up on the screen, from someone called Christina. "Can’t wait to see you again 😉"

I froze for a second, the words glaring at me. Without thinking, I read it out loud. "Oh, looks like you’ve got a message."

Matt’s head snapped up. "From who?"

I tilted the phone slightly, showing the message. "Christina?"

Nate leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wait, is that the Christina you met in Vegas? The one from July?"

Matt shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression tightened ever so slightly. "Yeah, that’s her."

Nate let out a low whistle. "She’s gonna be there again this time, isn’t she?"

Matt nodded, his tone casual. "Probably."

I don’t know why, but a wave of jealousy hit me, sharp and unexpected. My grip on his phone tightened for a second before I forced myself to focus on the dare. "Should I send something to her?" I asked, my voice light but edged with something I hoped wasn’t obvious.

Matt raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "If you want to, go ahead."

The room felt suddenly smaller, the playful atmosphere shifting. I could feel Madi watching me, and Nate was clearly enjoying the tension. I hesitated for a moment, debating if I should actually send a message to this Christina or if I should pick someone else.

"Tick tock Y/n! You’ve got to make a move!" Nick teased. 

I forced a smirk, my fingers hovering over the screen.

I quickly typed out a message to Christina, my fingers working faster than my mind. "Hey me too, you might need to get an STD check this time though.'" I laughed to myself before pressing send.

The moment I handed the phone back to Matt, I tried to mask the sudden fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t meet his eyes, avoiding the tension that hung between us like a thick fog. I didn’t know what I was trying to prove or if I was even making sense, but it felt like something had shifted in the air, something I couldn’t undo now.

As I settled back into my seat, the bottle spun again, and everyone’s eyes fell on me. It stopped, right on me.

Nate grinned devilishly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Y/n. Truth or dare?"

I groaned, taking a sip of my drink to avoid eye contact. "Dare" I muttered, already regretting it.

Nate leaned back, his grin widening. "Okay, I dare you to spend seven minutes in heaven with me."

I froze.

The room fell silent for a split second, and I could feel all eyes on me, the weight of their gazes too heavy to ignore. Nate’s smirk was a mixture of playfulness and something more serious, something that made my heart race in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I glanced over at Matt instinctively, only to see his eyes harden, his expression unreadable. A pit formed in my stomach as I quickly turned away, focusing back on Nate.

"Seven minutes?" I repeated, trying to make it sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, thick with uncertainty.

Nate’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, just a harmless bit of fun. No pressure, you can just take the shot."

I swallowed hard. Seven minutes. A small, stupid game. But something told me this wasn’t just about a silly dare. It felt like more, like I was walking on the edge of something I didn’t know if I was ready for.

But, I couldn’t back out now. Not with everyone watching. And definitely not with Matt’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

"Okay" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Seven minutes, lets go."

Nate and I stood and awkwardly walked toward the tiny supply closet across from Matt’s room, gesturing for me to step inside. The space was cramped, with barely enough room to stand between the washing machine and the wall. I hesitated before following him in, increasingly aware of how quiet the hallway had become. Nick close over the door behind us “Okay I’m setting a timer for you seven minutes now!”

I pulled myself up to sit on the washing machine to try and allow more space. Nate stood in close proximity, leaning against the wall, his broad frame making the already tight space feel even smaller.

He noticed my hesitation immediately and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Y/n. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want to do" he said, his voice soft and reassuring.

I nodded. "It’s not that. It’s just-”

Nate chuckled, his grin easy and comforting. "Yeah, I get it. We’re cramped in here like sardines. Not exactly romantic, huh? We can just mess with everyone’s heads when we get out. Pretend something wild happened.”

I appreciated his reassurance, but my mind wasn’t fully there. It kept circling back to that text from Christina, to the girl Matt had brought home just the other night. Why was I bothered by these things?

We went back and forth trying to mess with everyones heads for a few minutes, the tension easing with each playful exchange. Nate had this way of making me forget the discomfort of the situation, his charm and humor cutting through the awkwardness like a lifeline.

But as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation creeping back in. Why had I felt so conflicted when Nate dared me? Why had I instinctively looked at Matt? Why was I holding back? Why was I constantly tiptoeing around Matt’s feelings when he barely seemed to care about mine? The way he acted so indifferent toward me, except for those rare moments of kindness that only confused me more. Maybe I was overthinking, but it felt like I was always waiting for some unspoken approval from him.

But why should I?

I turned back to Nate. His expression was calm, patient, and his smile had a boyish charm that was impossible to deny. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t in a cramped laundry closet playing some silly game.

Maybe I needed to stop worrying so much about Matt, about what he thought or didn’t think. He wasn’t the one in front of me right now.

I took a breath, holding eye contact with Nate, my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t move, letting me take the lead.

As I tilted my head toward him, ready to close the distance, Nick’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, loud and teasing.

“Alright, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

I froze mid motion, my face heating up in embarrassment as Nate chuckled softly.

“We’ll I guess thats us!” He said playfully.

I leaned back, unable to meet his eyes as he opened the door. The sudden flood of light felt blinding, and the sound of laughter from the others only added to my growing embarrassment.

As we stepped out, I glanced toward the table and immediately caught Matt’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his jaw tightened that sent a bit of confusion through me.

“Have fun in there?” Matt asked, his tone neutral but laced with something sharp beneath the surface.

I wanted to say something snarky, but the words got caught in my throat. Instead, I turned my attention to my drink, needing something to steady myself.

Nate slid back into his seat, clearly amused. “Best seven minutes of my life” he joked, earning a round of laughter from Nick and Madi.

But Matt didn’t laugh. And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should.

Nick suggested switching things up, his voice full of mischief. "How about we switch it up, what about Never have I ever?"

Madi immediately perked up, slapping her hands together. "Ooh, yes! That’s always fun!"

The group agreed, and Nick quickly grabbed a fresh round of drinks, refilling everyone’s glasses to ensure the game could properly escalate. I could already tell this was going to get messy.

We all sat in a circle, Nate to my right and Matt now to my left, the energy in the room buzzing with anticipation. Nate nudged me playfully. "Hope you’re ready to spill some secrets" he teased.

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink just to brace myself. "I’d watch out too if I were you!" I shot back.

Nick took charge of the first round. He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the power of starting the game. “Never have I ever.. kissed someone in this room."

I froze, feeling my face heat up. Nate raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with a smirk, we laughed into eachother knowing we wanted to fuck with everyones heads.

"Someone’s gotta shake things up." Nate laughed.

Madi took the next turn. Never have I ever... hooked up with someone I regretted."

A ripple of tension moved through the group. Nick and Madi both took a sip, Nate chuckling awkwardly.

To my surprise, Matt lifted his glass and drank, his gaze flicking toward me for the briefest second before looking away.

It made me feel strange, but I tried not to deep it, instead, taking another sip of my drink for no reason other than to keep myself occupied.

When it was my turn, I hesitated. Everyone was looking at me expectantly, the pressure to come up with something spicy almost overwhelming.

"Alright. Never have I ever.. led someone on."

The group fell into playful gasps and laughter, but my eyes stayed locked on Matt.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, holding my gaze the entire time. I couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or an admission, but it left me feeling more conflicted than ever.

The tension in the room was thick as ever when it got to Matt’s turn. His face full of mischief. 

"Never have I ever.." he paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence linger just a beat too long, "..had my ex appear at the house I’m staying in, causing a scene."

The words nearly knocked me out. My stomach sank as I stared at him, my drink frozen halfway to my lips. Why the fuck would he say that?

Nick shifted uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath about the game getting too real, but no one really paid him attention.

I felt every set of eyes in the room turn toward me, and heat crept up my neck, both from anger and embarrassment. I didn’t move, didn’t drink, but my hand tightened around the glass in my grip. I felt like everyone was slowly putting the pieces together from this morning.

"What’s the matter, Y/n?" Matt asked, his voice calm but condescending. "Not drinking?"

I finally lowered the glass to the table, meeting his gaze head on. "I’m sorry, are we airing everyone’s dirty laundry now? Or just mine?"

His lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Just playing the game."

Nate leaned forward, wanting to clear this question. "Alright, let’s not kill the vibe. It’s just a game, right?" He shot Matt a warning look, but Matt didn’t break eye contact with me.

"Right" I said, forcing a smile as I picked up my glass and took a sip. The alcohol burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.

Madi cleared her throat, clearly trying to cut through the tension. "Okay, let’s move on!" she said, her voice overly chipper. "Um, my turn! Never have I ever.. gone skinny dipping!"

The room tried to recover, laughter breaking out as Nate and Nick both drank, but I barely registered it. My mind was spinning, replaying Matt’s words over and over. Why would he say that? Was he trying to embarrass me? To prove some kind of point? I swallowed the lump in my throat, determined not to let him get to me. If he wanted a reaction, he wasn’t going to get one.

It came back around to my turn, I knew I had an opportunity. I could feel the tension from Matt’s earlier comment still hanging in the air, and I wasn’t about to let him have the last word.  

“Never have I ever.. took a girl home and fucked her multiple times during the night knowing you have a guest in the house who can hear every single bit of it to try and make them feel uncomfortable.”

The room went dead silent.

Every single eye turned to me. Matt’s smirk faltered for the first time all night, his jaw tightening as my words sank in. But I wasn’t backing down. Not after the jab he threw earlier. My gaze stayed locked on Matt, challenging him.

Nick could clearly sense the charged atmosphere but unsure whether to step in. Nate, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as his eyes wide with both amusement and disbelief.

Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tilting his head slightly. "Well" he said, his voice smug as ever "if the guest didn’t want to hear anything, maybe they should’ve stayed in their own apartment instead of squatting in mine."

I felt my cheeks flush hot with both anger and embarrassment. "Squatting?" I snapped. "Wow, I didn’t realize letting someone crash because they didn’t have anywhere else to go counted as charity work for you."

Matt shrugged, his gaze burning into me. "Call it what you want. Just saying, the walls go both ways. If you don’t like what you hear, maybe you should get your own place."

"Or maybe" I shot back, "you could show a little respect for the fact that someone else is living here too. But clearly, that’s asking too much."

Nate looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. Madi awkwardly sipped her drink.

"Alright, alright" Nick finally cut in, his hands raised as if to physically push the tension down. "Maybe this game was a bad idea. Let’s just.. take a breather, yeah?"

But I wasn’t done. "No, it’s fine" I said as I stood up, my voice sharp. "Game’s over anyway. Matt’s clearly got all the answers."

I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my heart pounding as I made my way upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear the muffled sounds of Nick giving out to Matt for how he spoke to me, Madi trying to diffuse the situation. But the only thing I could focus on was the sound of Matt’s voice replaying in my head, over and over again. If Matt wanted a war, he’d just gotten one.

A hot tear streamed down my face as I lay back on my bed. I wasn’t sure where things would take me now, where I could go, how I would get there, if this would affect working with Chris.

But one thing I was sure of was,

I hate Matt Sturniolo.

a/n: when they go low we go LOWER

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[katerinaaqu]

i'm in despair (this is about antinous)

WHAT?! Okay seriously I have had enough at this point with this bullshit and the misinformation out there just because some people twist away the Odyssey and become famous to the point of people not being able to tell reality from fanfiction and of people who just won't do research or read the most crappy "translations" in the world! So because I have had enough here's ALL the lines Antinous speaks in the Odyssey to clear this up once and for all!

(Be warned this will be long but please share this as much as you can guys! Forgive me in advance if some of my translations are a bit sloppy or not as accurate I am willing to redo some passages if you guys want in comments or reblogs in the future.)

Please spread this because honestly I have had enough and this EXACTLY why I cannot take anymore of these "retellings" and whatever the hell the names are and the changes they make for no reason to characters for "creative liberties" because honestly people cannot even read the sources properly and they just make claims taking advantage of popularity of media!

ANTINOUS'S LINES IN THE ODYSSEY:

And then Antinous the son of Eupeithes answered him:

"Telemachus, no doubt the gods themselves are teaching you well since you became such a boaster and speak with so much insolence! May Cronus make sure that you shall never reign Ithaca of the two seas, which is your ancestral right!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 1 (383-387): Antinous to Telemachus in irony when Telemachus has seen Athena in disguise off.

~

Telemachus, you high-and-mighty, uncontrollable in your insolence, what kind have you said is my shame: you wish to shift the blame! But I tell ya it is not the fault of the Achaean suitors but of your beloved mother's, who knows very well how to gain from others. For this is the third year, nearly entering the fourth, that she plays with the feelings within the chests of the Achaeans. For she has given promises to each and every one of us all and sends us messages but in her head and she has made a big ploy; and after she set a large loom in the palace and began to weave in a thin and complicated way and then she said to us:

"Young men, my suitors, since divine Odysseus is dead, please be patient since you are in a hurry for my marriage, but allow me fulfill this one pledge, for I do not want this weaving of mine be for nothing, let me make a shroud for the heroic Laertes for when his fate strikes and is taken by the death who brings so many woes, so that I will not gain resent from the Achaean women, oh, if the man who gained so much were to lie without a shroud"

So she spoke to us and our heroic hearts were persuaded and so in there by day she was looming at her great web and by night she was destroying it under the light of the torches she had beside her. And so she gained herself 3 years with her deceit that persuaded the Achaeans, now entering the forth and time has passed and we were informed on this by one of the women who clearly saw what had happened and so we caught her red-handed unraveling the great web. And so she was forced out of necessity to finish it. And so to you the suitors are replying to you so you shall know it deep in your heart and for all the other Achaeans to know; send back your mother to her father and command her to choose which one of us she pleases to marry. For, truly, Athena has blessed her with knowledge and craftsmanship and understanding heart; such wiles Penelope knows above other beautifully-haired Achaean women, even than the ones known by the old ones; and Tyro and Alcmene and beautifully-wreathed Mycene but her last wile was not right and so we shall continue to eat here from your inheritance, for despite the fact that the gods placed such mind more than many inside her and she brings great name upon herself, but you shall regret your insolence. We shall not move back to our homes or to any other place until she marries which of us Achaeans she desires!

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 2 (86-128): Antinous to Telemachus about Penelope's scheme when Telemachus accused the suitors for their staying at his palace. Penelope is being accused for her game upon them and simoultaneously praised for her mind and craftsmanship but also Telemachus being pressured to send her back to her father to start preparing for her upcoming marriage.

~

And Antinous immediately laughed and rushed to Telemachus and grabbing one of his arms he mocked him:

"Telemachus, you high-and-mighty, uncontrollable in your insolence do not have other evil word or action you in your mind for us, but I say come and eat and drink with me like before, I am sure all these you want the Achaeans shall provide and ships and outstanding oarsmen so that quickly you shall reach holy Pylos and hear news of your noble father!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 2 (301-308): Antinous to Telemachus mockingly after the end of the gathering. Basically Antinous mocks Telemachus and tells him to forget the meeting ever happened and then mocks him with the notion he had to reach Pylos for news of his father.

~

And then Antinous, the son of Eupeithes replied:

"Tell me the truth! Where did he go and who were the men that followed him? Were they chosen Ithacan youth or heirlooms and slaves that belonged to him? Definitely I think he is capable even for that! And tell me this as well and answer truthfully for I shall know, whether by force and without your will he acquired the black ship or whether you gave it to him willingly, agreeing with his words!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 4 (641-647): Antinous to Noemon son of Phronius. The man possessed the ship which Telemachus got and now Antinous is interrogating the man on whether he did so with his free will or by force. The man of course replies that he had no reason to refuse Telemachus thus gaining the reaction by Antinous:

Furiously, then replied to him Antinous the son of Eupeithes; with great anger filling his black heart, both his eyes shining like fires:

"Damn! What a bold insolence Telemachus has put in action, this journey, even if we were saying he would never see it through! The way he has managed to launch a ship and even pick the best youth of the people and take them with him! He shall be our doom soon the way it goes! But hopefully Zeus's strength shall destroy him before he reaches the maturity of youth but go on now and give me a fast ship and twenty men so I shall wait for him and set an ambush to the narrow path between Ithaca and rugged Same and so his voyage to find his father shall have a sad end!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 4 (660-672): Antinous to himself and the other suitors. Basically here he speaks on the ambush he wants to set on Telemachus in his anger that Telemachus left for the trip after all plus how he fears that Telemachus will be their doom somehow.

~

Gentlemen, all of us, let us stop spewing arrogant words for someone might as well report your words in this house. But let us speak in low voice and make our words action, for this has pleased all our hearts.

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 4 (774-777): Antinous to the other suitors. In plotting in silence how they would proceed with the murder of Telemachus while Penelope is up in her rooms praying to Athena for the saving of her son.

~

Damn! Look how the gods have saved this man from misfortune! Even if we had guards waiting at the windy tops day after day, one after the other. And when the sun fell down we didn't stay on shore but we sailed on the fast ships in the sea till the divine Eos (Dawn) waiting and lurking for Telemachus to take hold of him and destroy him: some god undoubtedly has brought him home! But let us here plan the sorrowful doom of Telemachus so that he won't escape us; for I know that as long as he lives our plans will not be fulfilled. He has persuaded the council and the people do not agree with us anymore. But let's go before he gathers the assembly of the Achaeans because I think he won't be wise to act slow but he would rush in full wrath and he would choose to rise everyone up by saying that we contrived against him murder but didn't catch him and they will not like it when they hear our evil deeds. Mark my words, he will drive us all out of our lands and we shall move to stranger lands! Come on! Let us seize him at the countryside, outside of the city or on the way and let us seize all his possessions and lands and divide them among ourselves equally but the house we shall give to his mother and to whomever marries her. But if you are displeased by these words and you believe he should live and keep his inheritance then let us stop devouring his goods and leave the house and each one of us from his own palace shall continue showering her with gifts till she will have as husband the one who offers the most.

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 16 (364-392): Antinous to himself and the other suitors. His fury that Telemachus escaped their ambush and he repeats the plan on killing him or establishes even more options for the suitors. In here he also suggests to keep pressuring Penelope to marry.

~

And so spoke Antinous scolding the swineherd

"Notorious swineherd what did you bring him to the city for? Don't we have enough vagabonds and other annoying beggars to ruin our dinner? Aren't they enough people to eat the king's wealth here that you invited this one too?"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 17 (374-379): Antinous to Eumeus on Odysseus. Eumeus had brought Odysseus-Beggar to the palace and Melanthius, the goat-herder had pointed out that he saw Eumeus leading him there so Antinous once more barges in and complaints (that is the first time Antinous speaks in the presence of Odysseus)

~

Telemachus you high-and-mighty and uncontrollable in your insolence what did you say! If all the other suitors were to give him as much then he wouldn't need to come back for the next three months!

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 17 (406-408): Antinous to Telemachus. Telemachus mocks Antinous on his mocking on Odysseus/Beggar and so had Eumeus before him so now Antinous just mocks them back

~

Which god has brought this creature to destroy our feast? He stood there in apart from our tables and claims he comes from bitter Egypt or Cyprus: He insolently and so rudely asks for food from all who are here: and they give it so recklessly for no one is more generous in giving than the one who gives something that belongs to someone else for they have much each!

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 17 (446-452): Antinous to himself and Odysseus. Odysseus goes to Antinous in particular to beg for food and tells him once more his "sad story" on how he fell from grace. Antinous does not like the whining and he retaliates. Ironically he also says something correct here; that they are all generous to the food they give to Odysseus because that food is not theirs in the first place.

~

So he spoke and Antinous got even more furious and looking down upon him he replied with winged words:

"Now you shall no longer stay in this palace, back off since you speak words of accusation!"

(Tranlation by me)

Rhapsody 17 (458-461): Antinous to Odysseus. Odysseus insists upon Antinous give him some food and Antinous retaliates sending him away and in the next scene he throws the stool at him

~

And to him replied Antinous the son of Eupithes:

"Sit there and eat, stranger or go elsewhere or else you shall be thrown out being carried away by your arms and legs and be skinned whole!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 17 (477-480): Antinous to Odysseus. Basically Odysseus complained to the entire assembly that Antinous has just striken him because he is hungry. Antinous doesn't like it and threatens that Odysseus will be carried out by force and be skinned alive if he goes on. He is heard by Penelope upstairs and she is filled in the details by Euryclaea.

~

"Friends how fortunate that such a thing happened, that the gods brought such entertainment to our doors! Irus and the stranger fighting and wishing to hit each other! Quickly! Let's set them up!"

Mighty Antinous heard them two talking and breaking in merry laughter he addressed the suitors:

So he spoke and everyone broke down laughing and gathered together the two beggars and again Antinous son of Eupithes addressed them:

"Listen, heroic suitors, what I am about to say. These goat stomachs here that is roasting on the fire and we had set them here to make dinner after we have filled them with fat and blood but now I say the one who wins and comes out on top let him choose which one he wants to have for himself and what's more he shall dine with us and we shall suffer no more a beggar begging among us!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 18 (34-49): Antinous to the rest of the suitors. Irus has arrived to the palace and he picks up a fight with Odysseus/Beggar and Antinous loving the idea of watching them two fight and suggests the contest.

~

Now, don't whine, you bully and it might have been better if you never born if you are to be afraid and trembling of this fellow, a man old and beaten down by misery. I tell ya and it's done: he has won against you and is stronger, I shall throw you in a black ship and exile you to the mainland to the king Echetus, the baneful of men, and he shall have your nose and ears cut off with ruthless bronze and shall throw your privates to the dogs to devour!

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 18 (79-87): Antinous to Irus. Basically he threatens and mocks Irus for being afraid of losing to "an old man". Irus was taken over by fear when Odysseus revealed his shoulders and legs realizing that he is not just a common old man. Antinous is "guilt tripping" and threatening Irus so that the two of them would fight.

~

And Antinous son of Eupeithes replied to her:

"Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, the gifts you want the Achaeans shall bring you here, for you to accept them, for it is no good not to accept them, but we shall not leave this place and go elsewhere till you choose to marry the best of us Achaeans!"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 18 (284-289): Antinous to Penelope. Penelope demands wedding gifts (as a manipulation for the suitors to bring items to pay back what they have eaten and possibly more than that). She probably hoped to manipulate the suitors out of her house. Antinous responds to her by accepting her request but also expresses the decision all the suitors made, not to leave the house till she has chosen a husband (in the next lyrics it is revealed that Antinous's gift was a beautiful embroidered robe with 12 golden brooches)

~

I verily think is hard, Achaeans, to accept the word of Telemachus who has so much spoken threateningly against us. Truly the son of Cronus Zeus wouldn't have tolerated this but he would already have silenced him in this palace, the way he clearly speaks!

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 20 (271-274): Antinous to the rest of the suitors. Telemachus placed his father (dressed as beggar) sit among the suitors and has showingly given him good portion of food and golden cup and he told him boldly to sit and eat and drink with the rest of the people for it is not a public house here but the house of Odysseus that treats his guests! (I also find it a nice cheeky move by Telemachus here!) Antinous didn't like it and he speaks up

~

You foolish boors who only care for today! Cowards why are you crying now and you are troubling the heart of this woman? Now that she has learnt she has lost her dear husband! Be silent and sit down or if you have to weep go elsewhere and leave this bow behind so it will be a the contest of decision for the suitors. For I believe it will be no easy task to chord this bow. For there is no such a man among us like the one Odysseus was! And I myself have seen him and I remember him even if I was but an infant child then!

Rhapsody 21 (86-96): Antinous to Eumeus. Eumeus was ordered to bring up the bow from the armory. Eumeus held the bow in his hands and he actually cried in emotion as he held his master's favorite bow. Antinous retaliates and calls him names because as he says "he is troubling Penelope" with his cries and he speaks on how he remembers Odysseus when he was a child. And ironically or not so much he speaks very positively on Odysseus and the kind of man he remembers him to be, maybe because he thinks he is safe now and believes Odysseus to be dead.

~

And Antinous, the son of Eupeithes, said to them:

"Rise in your turn from the right, all my friends, we start with the order the wine is being poured"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 21 (140-142): Antinous to the rest of the suitors. He basically suggest the order with which everyone will try and string the bow (with the order that the jug holder has poured them wine) from right to left)

~

But Antinous reproved his words and he called out:

"Leodes! What words have escaped the barrier of your teeth?! This is both painful and dreadful words indeed that I feel resentment by just hearing you! If this is the bow that shall judge who is the best in heart and soul no wonder you cannot string it. Your noble mother hasn't birthed you to be a strong archer or shoot arrows. Let the other noble suitors string it!"

So he spoke and then he ordered Melanthius, the goat herder:

"Melanthius, go and light a fire in the hall and place a great chair by it covered in fleece and bring a large block of fat when you come back so that we shall smear the bow with it and soften it over the flames before we execute our contest"

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 21 (167-180): Antinous to Leodes and immediately after Antinous to Melanthius. Leodes expressed the impossible of stringing the bow and then he claimed that he'd rather die than suffer the loss there for Penelope's hand and Antinous does not like the defeatist attitude. He takes over and orders to Melanthius to bring the tools to care for the bow and make sure it is usable after so long staying in storage. This passage also shows the knowledge Antinous has on weaponry in general and possibly hunting in particular.

~

Eurymachus, this won't work; you know it yourself, because now it is a public celebration for a god. Who then would string the bow?I say set it aside for now. Newvertheless we shall leave the axes here where they are, for I believe no one shall enter to the palace of Odysseus the son of Laertes, to take them! But let's go, let the cup bearer pour the liberations in our goblets as we make our offerings and let's set aside the curved bows! By the morning we shall order Melanthus the goat herder shall bring the best out of the goats he is tending and herding and so we shall sacrifice their thighs to Apollo of the beautiful bow and we shall try one more time to execute the challenge of this bow.

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 21 (257-268): Antinous to Eurymachus when none of them could string the bow he suggests that it is because it is a public celebration that they should make their own offerings to the gods and call it a day and try another day because he assumed it is possible that the reason they couldn't string it could possibly be that it was because of the celebration. So he suggests to call it a day and offer a sacrifice to Apollo the next day before they try again.

~

Ah bloody stranger! You have absolutely no trace of wit! You are not satisfied enough that you arrogantly sit and dine with us and you are in no want of food but you also pry in our conversations and overhear our words! No other beggar or stranger ever overheard our words! Undoubtedly the sweet wine has gotten to your head and you know the wine is bad for others too, if greedily take gulps and drink without measure. The wine made even the centaurs and the noble Eurytion act foolishly when they were to the palace of great-hearted Pirithus, when he went to the Lapithes: and because his mind was consumed by wine, his frenzy caused great evil upon the house of Pirithus. And so great sorrow fell upon the heroes for he was dragged out of the doors and thrown out and his ears and nose were cut wit merciless bronze and so he bore the punishment for the madness of his mind. And so it commenced the fight between the Centaurs and the humans. They were the first to see the evil of heavy drinking. And you who speak big words I warn you if you manage to bend the bow you shall not be met with kindness and we shall throw you to a black ship and exile you to the mainland to the king Echeton, the baneful of men, there nothing will save you! Sit still and drink and don't aim to compete against much younger men than you!

(Translation by me)

Rhapsody 21 (288-310): Antinous to Odysseus. Odysseus/Beggar has just slowly approached Eurymachus and Antinous and he has asked for the right to try the bow himself. Antinous got furious that Odysseus overheard them and that he suggested to take part to the challenge and then he assumes that Odysseus is drunk and he even brings up the myth of the centaurs and the Lapithes to say how wine makes people say and do stupid things. Ironically he is most likely self-projecting since he does seem to be the intoxicated one (at least how I read his passages). And those were the last words spoken by Antinous and the last ones addressed to Odysseus.

In the next passages is the death of Antinous (he doesn't get the chance to even react given how Odysseus kills him when he is about to take a drink with an arrow through his throat) and his name is mentioned a few times by Eurymachus and some more mentions by name.

**

As you see there is absolutely no mention whatsoever not even to the murder of Telemachus to none of the scenes where Odysseus is present (mind you neither to the scenes where Penelope is either! Penelope was informed on their scheme by a servant that overheard them and she went down to confront Antinous!)

Also Antinous makes no mention whasoever in any rape! He mentions the myth of the centaurs and Lapithes and NOT EVEN THEN does he mention the attempt of rape of the women by the drunk centaurs yet alone to Penelope! The only things he speaks about is how to keep pressuring Penelope choose a husband and he mentions wedding gifts.

If anything it is ODYSSEUS the one that gets threatened all the time by Antinous and mistreated by him. Antinous even speaks positively about Penelope like 99% of the time with the exception when he calls her devious for her trick that had them all waiting.

Absolutely they want to increase pressure to Penelope and they want to kill her son but that rape thing should be enough at this point! Honestly THIS is where a certain someone SHOULD come out and say that these came out of his head and NOT the Odyssey! Like sure it is your imagination and do whatever with it but damn!

Sorry I am really upset with these smartasses on the internet at this point! Once again forgive me if any of my interpretations is sloppy or even if I have forgotten something. I have double checked but just in case.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Post 3: The Character Pass

Did I say we were doing structural edits next I LIED, first we have to focus on character. In reality, you'll probably be doing plot and character passes in tandem, as plot progression should be tied to characters moving forward and changing. Let's start with:

Motivation - Clarity, Consistency, and Earned Change

When it comes to motivation, you're usually dealing with external (the events of the book) and internal (what's going on inside your character's head) motivation. I like Save The Cat's concept of the internal wound/shard of glass theory - your main character starts the story with a problem that needs fixing, whether they realize it or not. This is about digging deep in their head and linking that internal motivation to their external actions and choices. To borrow more Save the Cat lingo, it's all about the internet/external journey:

Internal Journey - Megan is shy and awkward, and thinks she wants to be one of the popular kids in school (see Wants Versus Needs below). What she actually needs is to become more self-confident, healing that inner wound in the process.

External Journey (aka the outer plot) - Megan has moved to a new school, the perfect chance to make it as a popular kid at last. Maybe she'll go all-out, joining a Battle of the Bands despite not being able to play a guitar or inventing a new identity to make her seem mysterious and cool.

However the plot progresses, Megan's external journey is going to be connected to her internal journey of gradually realizing what she needs is self-confidence, not popularity. Speaking of...

Wants Versus Needs

Often a great way to add more depth to a character is to have them want something, but in actually need something else. Their motivation will change as they discover what they want isn't what they need, and change focus - or, tragically, stubbornly stick to their want and never find the place they should be. Regardless of your character goal, review your scenes with the following questions in mind:

What does your character want? How does that influence their behavior in this scene? - Remember, external goals like "escape the zombies" are important, but you also want to focus on their inner drive of "save as many people as possible because he could not save his friend" as well.

What does your character need in this scene? How does that influence or clash with their actions? - For zombie guy, his true need is to let go of his guilt for not saving his friend. He stubbornly refuses to admit that to himself, allowing us to complicate the scene by having him spot his friend as a fresh zombie or taking the death of a stranger too hard.

By "earned change" in the previous section, I mean the character slowly evolves from realizing they need to pursue what they want versus what they need. By showing how they learned that over the course of your novel, their motivation stays consistent and compelling.

Tracking Changes and Growth

Escape the soggy middle by making sure you know when that motivation needs to pivot toward the inner need. This is again where I'll harp on having an editing outline, because knowing what needs to happen for your character to change is going to be much easier if you can look at it in the context of the whole plot.

If your novel feels muddled, take another look at where your characters are and where they need to be at the end of the book. Are there any realizations that need to happen? Could a budding romance benefit from more focus? Could a harsh defeat help set them on the right path?

Are You Pulling Your Punches?

You could have a lot of moments that don't reach their full potential simply because you're not pushing your characters hard enough. I recently reviewed a friend's draft and immediately realized a pivotal part of the book would be so much stronger if it ended in a confrontation between the main character and their terrible father. At the same time, I realized why they hadn't come to that conclusion themselves - often we (okay, me) tend to play it safe in drafting for realism or other concerns.

But pushing your characters past their comfort zones is a great way to make that book so much stronger - and if it doesn't work, you can always do something else!

Do All Characters Have Motivation (And Do You Have Too Many of Them?)

For your characters to be engaging, they all need to have their own wants and goals that the readers understand, even if they're a despicable antagonist. Yet another common problem I see is often too many characters to keep track of. You might benefit from merging two secondary characters into one, or cutting back on scenes involving people that never do much in the story.

Every character should have a want, a need, and a drive to get it, which will help you strengthen the plot and weave in more subplots. If your story feels flagging, take a closer look at your characters and make sure they're carrying their weight.

In my initial draft, two of my characters had older sisters that were secretly dating each other. While fun, I quickly realized in re-drafting that they already had what they wanted and including them was slowing down the plot. Cutting those characters ramped up the family tensions and kept the focus on the main characters ,where it needed to be. Another issue was that I wasn't paying enough attention to the villain's motivation - with less side characters to juggle, I had more space to explore that in the story.

Next post: Worldbuilding. Then structure. I promise. Maybe.

[foone]

Annoying edge case for lycanthropy: a dragon who is also a werewolf.

(A short story I wrote back in 2022 for twitter. I've slightly re-edited it, but it's still "twittery" in how it uses linebreaks (because there used to be post-boundaries there). Sorry! )

So on the full moon, they uncontrollably turn into… A much smaller and squishier humanoid. They can't wait to get their scales and fire breath and wingspan back. They're so vulnerable in their werewolf form!

No one at the werewolf support meetings is sympathetic.

They're all humans or nearly, so one of them is like "it's just so scary. I'm huge, and inhuman, and I feel like I'm made of weapons, with my claws. Everyone fears me, and I fear myself sometimes, never knowing what I might do, if I lose control and just let the rage out…" And the werewolf-dragon is like "and then you turn into a werewolf! It's so annoying, I agree"

Everyone else just turns to look at them, slowly

They do take some tips about werewolf safety. They just do it backwards, because instead of making sure they can't get out and cause death and destruction, it's more about making sure no one can get in and attack them in their merely nigh-invulnerable werewolf form. When you're a dragon, turning into a nearly unkillable rage monster of claws and fangs is a major downgrade. It's a real moment of weakness, and who knows if your ancient enemies or some upstart knight is going to try to take advantage of that moment of weakness?

They get infinitely more annoyed when they finally find a witch who can do the right ceremony and lift the curse of lycanthropy. "there… With the burning of this silver candle, you are finally free. You're human in all moonphases, now." "WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, HUMAN?!"

They got turned into the humanized version of their werewolf form. Permanently.

Always read the fine print before asking a witch to do a complicated magical ritual on you.

"also, question: how the hell did you burn a silver candle? Isn't the melting point of silver…" "one thousand eight hundred degrees, yes. It wasn't easy. Look. "

She pulls back a curtain and points. There's a complicated bellows system being vigorously pumped by a bunch of little black cats, each wearing a tiny witch's hat. They're sweating with exertion and the heat.

"we're done, my lovelies. You can stop now" The kitties hop down off the bellows and lie down at her feet, or wander off looking for food. The witch looks down at the former dragon, now barely 5 feet tall. "why do you think I asked for my fee in cat food?"

"but it was ALL cat food. Don't you need to-" The former dragon pauses mid-sentence, as the witch pulls off her traditional witchy headwear to reveal two pointy feline ears. "you were saying?"

"nevermind. Thanks, I guess." The dragon walks to the door, then turns around. "hey, I need to find out how to be a human, would you happen to know anything or anyone I can ask?" The witch looks up from sitting on the floor with a leg behind her head, licking the inside of her thigh "wouldn't have a clue, sorry love", she says with a smile.

The witch has to show up later and bail the former dragon out of jail. Apparently they accosted a city guard after being told "you can't just wander around the city naked". The dragon told them to contact the catwitch because it's not like they know any other humanoids.

The guard wasn't physically hurt, but getting jumped by a small naked human after merely pointing out you need to wear trousers or a dress or something in public is the kind of thing that leaves mental scars that'll take a while to fade.

Even if your tiny nude opponent was mainly trying to scratch or bite you with claws or fangs they no longer have

The former dragon ends up living with the catwitch. She could use some help with the bellows, and even if the dragon can no longer provide her own fire, they still know a lot about it.

And even if they're now a short little weakling who has to be reminded to wear clothes, they are a bit better at pumping the bellows than a pack of kittens.

Plus they can help with making potions and such in ways the cats can't, what with having thumbs.

They live together for a while, until the grumpy now-human finds out that another dragon has taken up residence in their former hoard.

And that will just not do!

So the dragon convinces the catwitch to come with them on an adventure to raid their own hoard and defeat (or at least evict) the dragon.

So they set out, the former dragon having to figure out the weaknesses in their own defenses and how to navigate a space built for dragons, not tiny humanoids. They're wearing the minimum in clothing they can get away with, and wielding a sword almost bigger than they are.

And following, the catwitch with a broom and a big sack of magical devices and reagents, and a little procession of kittens in their hats.

(the former dragon uses they/them pronouns. Their human body does have a sex, but when gender was explained to them they called it a "foolish human thing" and never bothered with it, just like their opinions on silverware and public indecency laws)

As far as anyone can tell, dragons have only one gender, and it's dragon.

Anyone who has asked further questions about dragon gender, sex, or reproduction has ended up crispy and good with ketchup.

They manage to evict the squatting dragon, and the witch is like "well, I guess you got nearly everything you want now. I'll take my cats back to the city…" And the ex-dragon is like "WAIT… I was thinking, maybe you could… Use my hoard as a new shop? There's plenty of room"

"are you asking me to stay?" "n-no… I mean, yes? Shut up. It's just because it would be a good place for you. After all, your shop has that leaky roof, and you were running out of storage space, and the mayor always wanted you kicked out…"

"oh I see, so it's just for me? How kind. You don't care either way, right?" "right! I don't care! I don't need or want you around! I don't care about silly human things" "human?" she asks with a smile, wiggling her ears on the top of her head. "shut up you know what I mean"

"so you don't want me to stay around you? You don't have a reason why you want to be near me, to be with me?" she says "with" with a certain slant on it, as she rests her arm on the shoulder of the former dragon, having to lean over her to reach. "n-n-n…"

The witch switches to cupping the former dragon's face in her palms. "and your face is so warm, little one. Are you trying to breathe fire? You're turning red, so maybe you are…"

"stop it! I… I just…" "yes?" the witch lets go, but her tail curls around the waist of the former dragon, like they are walking hand in hand down a beach.

"I like you, alright? I want you to stay. I want to be with you! Is that so wrong?"

"nope!" says the witch, happily pulling them into a kiss.

We zoom out, past a pile of gold coins and goblets and scepters, as little black kittens in adorable hats play in the hoard, ambushing each other in play-fights from the high ground of a treasure chest.

[notlongtolove]

to get it anyway

a steel case to the face. that's the last thing you remember seeing. spencer’s voice, shouting your name. gunfire in rapid succession. you remember hearing sirens. maybe. you’re not entirely sure. hands, trembling, cupping your cheeks.  then, nothing.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff, hurt comfort

content: slight mentions of stitches and wounds. bau!reader gets hurt during a case and spencer is worried out of his mind—maybe even worried enough to confess his feelings for her???

word count: 2.3k

note: love the linked poem... also need someone to confess their undying love for me rn rn rn (also is this considered fluff? im not too good w tags)

a line: He cradled your head in his hands, shielding your body with his own when the gunfire went down. His world tilted on its axis—Instinct overtaking reason.

the final sour cherry we kept politely pushing onto each other’s plate, saying, No, you. But it’s so good. No, it’s yours. How I finally put an end to it, plucked it from the plate, and stuck it in my mouth. How good it tasted: so sweet and so tart. How good it felt: to want something and pretend you don’t, and to get it anyway. - cristin o’keefe aptowicz

A steel case to the face. That's the last thing you remember seeing. Spencer’s voice, shouting your name. Gunfire in rapid succession. You remember hearing sirens. Maybe. You’re not entirely sure. Hands, trembling, cupping your cheeks. 

Then, nothing.

Spencer’s pacing down the hallway, his hands restless at his sides as he calls out for the doctor who’s only just walked out of your room. Before he can get far, he feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder, firm enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Hey,” Morgan says, his voice low. “Hey!” he says again, louder, forcing Spencer to look at him this time, “You gotta slow down.”

“She—she was hit. In the head!” Spencer twists under his grip, his eyes darting toward the room where you’re lying behind a closed door. “Do you know how fragile the human skull is? She could have a concussion or—or intracranial bleeding, or—I need to—”

“What you need to do—is calm down,” Morgan interrupts. His tone is stern, leaving no room for argument. “You pacing and panicking? That’s not helping her. And it’s not helping you. You’re worried. We all are. I get it.”

But Spencer isn’t just worried. He’s terrified. He’s bone-deep, mind-numbingly terrified. You all get hurt sometimes—Occupational hazard. Duh. Everyone knows that. But it’s rare for any of you to actually end up warded in the hospital, rarer for it still, to be a two-hour wait with no definitive answers. The doctors had been maddeningly vague: We’ll let you know as soon as possible. No reason to worry. But how could he not?

“Don't tell me to calm down, I—” Spencer’s voice cracks. His chest feels tight, constricted. “Even small blows can cause severe brain damage. Nobody knows how fast—how fast neurons can start to—”

“Reid,” Morgan repeats, his grip not letting up. “They checked her. Twice. You saw it yourself. You saw them go in. I promise you—They’re on it.”

Spencer doesn’t reply. He doesn’t tell Morgan that 3.6% of hospital deaths occur because of medical negligence—A staggering 1.8% of those linked to head injuries. Doesn’t tell him how many journal articles he’s read on misdiagnosed head trauma or the cascading complications that can go unnoticed until it’s too late. The numbers run through his mind unbidden anyway.

“I’m gonna let you go now,” Morgan says carefully, studying Spencer’s face. “But you gotta stay calm, kid. You hear me? Hotch is already looking.” 

Spencer forces himself to look where Morgan’s nod directs him. Hotch is speaking to a local officer at the end of the hallway, eyes already darting warningly towards them. “I’m calm,” Spencer mutters, though his chest feels like it’s caving in and his breaths are shallow and his heart is pounding so hard he thinks it’s a wonder Morgan can’t hear it. Nothing about this feels calm at all. Not even remotely. 

He drags himself to the bench in the hallway reluctantly. As it turns out, sitting does little to settle him. His leg bounces uncontrollably and he bites at his nails, a nervous habit he hasn’t indulged in since childhood. Old habits resurface when the mind is in distress, he recalls. He doesn’t even glance up when Morgan comes by again with a peace offering in the form of a cup of coffee. Not even when Hotch had come to pass on his well wishes, a pressing call waiting for him back at the bureau. 

The minutes crawl by and Spencer counts each one. Sixty. Seventy. Eighty. At ninety-three, a doctor finally approaches. Spencer bolts upright, standing so fast that his head spins a little. You’re stable. Visitors are allowed. Two at a time. He barely registers anything else that the doctor says.

You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.

The sharp antiseptic smell hits him first. Then it’s you, eyes blinking blearily as you try to grab a cup of water from the overbed table. The motion makes you wince and Spencer is at your bedside in an instant, his knees bumping gently against the frame as he leans down. 

“Stop I—I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” he says softly, scooping up the cup before you can strain yourself any further. 

“Thanks, Spence,” you whisper, your voice hoarse. You take the cup from him with a weak smile and lift it to your lips for a small sip.

Spencer’s gaze flits involuntarily to your temple. Stitches, eight of them, subcuticular running sutures, from what he can see. They start at your hairline, tracing a clean path down just shy of your cheekbone. He tries to tell himself it’s a good sign—clean wound edges, minimal scarring expected. He wants to say something but the sight of you, pale lips, fragile in the oversized hospital gown, usual biting sarcasm and saccharine teasing nowhere to be found, makes his heart ache. 

“How do you feel?” he finally manages. Even he knows it's a stupid question the moment it leaves his lips. 

“Like I got whacked in the face.” Ah, there you are.

Spencer chuckles meekly though ​​his attempt at lightness falls flat when he catches sight of the stitches again.

“S’not as bad as it looks,” You say tiredly, noticing his line of sight. “The nurse told me it was barely a concussion. A mild one at worst.” 

“Oh yeah? Would’ve been nice to know ‘bout two hours ago,” Morgan interjects, cutting into the quiet moment. Spencer startles slightly, having completely forgotten he was there. “Pretty sure our poor boy wore a hole in the tiles from all his pacing.”

The flush creeping up Spencer’s neck is immediate, spreading to his cheeks as he goes a little crimson. Regardless, he’s thankful for the soft laugh it draws from you. Eyes crinkling, lips curved. You look a little more like yourself now, even if the weariness hasn’t fully dissipated. It makes Spencer feel a little fuller, a little lighter. 

Spencer’s liked you since the first day he met you. 248 days ago, to be exact—But it’s definitely not like he’s kept count or anything. 

He thought he’d like you when he read over your application file. You’d cited winning a local checkers tournament at age 11 as one of your ‘greatest accomplishments to date’.

He knew he liked you when he caught you trying to explain the concept of gravity to Henry at his fourth birthday party using a juice box and a cookie.

When you quoted Aristotle in an attempt to convince Hotch to get a new coffee machine for the unit? Spencer was certain he’d fallen in love right then and there. Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work. Doesn’t it, Spence?

“Aw, Spence,” you coo softly, your voice carrying that honey sweet lilt he’s grown so fond of. “M’fine. Really.” 

For a fleeting moment Spencer almost believes you. Because the way his heart flutters when you reach over to squeeze his hand in reassurance makes him think he’s the one who should be hooked up to those machines instead. Your thumb brushes gently over the back of his hand and Spencer feels his breath hitch, swallowing hard. He swears he goes a little dizzy for a moment so he promptly takes a seat in the chair by your bed.

“It’s good to see you awake, pretty girl. You really had us worried there for a minute,” Morgan says. Spencer nods fervently in agreement. After a beat, Morgan just can’t seem to help himself, adding, “Well, some of us more than others.” Spencer’s certain Morgan’s thoroughly amused by how flustered he is—More so that you seem blissfully unaware. 

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Spencer pretends not to notice the pointed glance and shameless smile Morgan throws his way. “Don’t let this one fuss over you too much, though. He’s got that down to an art form.” The door clicks shut behind Morgan, and the room grows quiet again, save for the faint hum of the machines and the soft rustle of sheets as you shift slightly in bed.

“Do you remember anything? Before? After?” Spencer asks. He’s painfully aware of how your hand hasn’t moved from his. 

“Not much,” you sigh, your eyes downcast. “Lots of shots… shouting.”

Spencer nods grimly, his jaw tight. If he were being honest, he didn’t remember much either. The moment he saw you go down, his mind had gone blank, aside from the fuzzy static screaming in his ears. He’d lunged toward you as your body crumpled to the ground. The scuff on his pants and the sting of his elbow attest to that fact. His knees had scraped against the concrete as he cradled your head in his hands, shielding your body with his own when the gunfire went down.

His world tilted on its axis—Instinct overtaking reason.

FBI protocol was clear: never abandon your weapon, never turn your back during active gunfire. Subsection 28A, paragraph 2, page 36. Spencer knew it by heart. (He knew the entire handbook by heart.)

But Spencer also knew that if it ever came down to it, he’d take a bullet for you without hesitation.

“I remember you,” you admit softly, your voice a little stronger as you glance up at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“M—me?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “I remember you calling my name. You holding me.” A faint smile tugs at your lips. Your fingers trace gentle circles into his palm as you sigh, “I only remember you, Spence.” ​​It sends a flip through him, right down to his toes—He short circuits. 

“I care about you,” Spencer blurts. His mind feels foggy, his words slipping out before he can overthink them. “Like, really care about you.” He winces internally. Filler words? Really? But with the way you’re looking at him—kind, expectant, devastatingly patient—he can’t seem to summon anything better. 

“I like you,” he tries again, his voice just a tad firmer. “A lot. More than I probably should. I—I really like you,” he adds in a rush. Real smooth, Spencer. 

You tilt your head, biting your lip to suppress a grin, and Spencer hopes you can't feel how sweaty his palms are.

“I know,” you say simply.

“Y—you do?” His voice comes out shakier than he likes.

“I do. Kinda guessed it from the teasing and stuff.”

Silence.

It stretches just long enough for Spencer to start panicking. He’s briefly comforted by the fact that even mild concussions can cause memory lapses and wonders if there’s any other way to make you forget this humiliating confession. 

“I’m sorry,” he stammers, rushing to fill the quiet. “I’m being insensitive. You’re probably overwhelmed enough as it is—I shouldn’t have—”

“I like you too, Spencer,” you say softly, cutting him off. 

“You—you do?”

"I do," you nod unabashedly, utterly unflustered. “I have for a while now, actually.”

His eyes widen. “You have?”

“Yes I have, and I do, I really like you too,” you say with a sheepish smile, laughing. “But if you keep making me repeat myself you’re gonna give me the headache the doctors keep saying I'm lucky not to have.” 

“S’not funny,” Spencer mutters, but he smiles anyway. The brightest smile he’s had today. Maybe even this week. Possibly even this year. “Don’t joke about that. I was really worried.”

“I know,” you reply warmly. “Something about pacing holes into the tiles, if I recall.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, a boyish laugh slipping out. He hadn’t imagined this moment unfolding in a hospital room, of all places. To be honest, he hadn’t imagined this happening at all. 

You’ll probably be out in three days. Maybe two if you’re lucky. He’ll ask you out then. Properly. Dinner at that Thai place you both love. A trip to the library you’d mentioned two months ago but never got around to visiting. He’ll take you to the park where he plays chess every Saturday. He’s going to do it all. The thought makes him absolutely giddy. 

Unbeknownst to the two of you, outside, Morgan hasn’t budged. Not an inch. He’s standing by the blinds, peering in through the narrow sliver. The panicked clatter of heels on the tiled floor announces Garcia’s arrival before she’s even turned the corner. Her face is the epitome of panic, teary eyes wide with worry.

“How—how bad is it?” she blurts, her voice shaking. “Oh god, did she make it? Reid called and—”

Morgan silences her with a gentle finger to her lips. “Shhhh. She’s fine.”

“Fine?! But—But Reid said something about brain trauma—and her neurons and—”

“Babygirl, you and I both know how he gets when it comes to her,” Morgan chides, “Nurse said it’s barely a concussion.”

Garcia lets out a deep, shaky breath, her shoulders sagging dramatically as relief washes over her. “Oh, thank god,” she utters, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, I’m gonna kill that boy, d’you know what he told me?! He said—” 

“Hold that thought,” Morgan says, cutting her off with a smirk. “Our boy genius is a little… preoccupied right now.” He steps aside slyly, gesturing toward the blinds. “Take a peek. You’ll thank me later.”

Inside, Spencer has moved his chair closer to your bedside. One of his hands holds yours securely, fingers interlocked now, while the other traces soothing circles along your forearm. His smile is blinding, proud even, as laughter fills your face. When you shift, a strand of hair falls across your face, and Spencer gently brushes it aside, his hand lingering on your cheek.

Garcia visibly melts at the sight. She lets out a soft, adoring sigh as Morgan starts to steer her gently down the hallway.  “You know, when I told you last week that she wouldn’t know Reid liked her even if it hit her in the face, I didn’t mean it literally,” she quips, amused. 

“I know babygirl, I know,” Morgan chuckles, shaking his head as he places a hand on her shoulder. “Now, come on. I think I saw some jello in the cafeteria.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: magnets by niki soft spot by keshi

[thequasarwinds]

YES EXACTLY

(TW this gets a little venty I don’t mean to make it that way! I’m simply trying to explain why I don’t like when people demonize them on a personal level)

the main factor of friction within their relationship, is just the dichotomy between the fight response and the fawn response (as well as the flight which you mention here). I just feel like not enough people understand this, so it results in them demonizing one or the other

They’re both just CHILDREN- desperately doing their best to cope and stay safe

I just feel like it’s really obvious that this fandoms doesn’t exactly understand child psychology or trauma in children (not to say I’m like a licensed child therapist- I am NOT but I’ve done a considerable amount of research these pass four-five years). Which can be forgiven, but it can become extremely harmful when you demonize them, as those mindsets can bleed over to real life

disregarding the larger social issues of kids being treated as subhuman- I know from personal experience what it’s like to be misunderstood and mistreated for just being a hurt and scared kid.

Words can not explain just how much I love seeing Amanda acting very emotionally unregulated- to see her be quick to anger, sadness, etc without the game demonizing her for that. Because that’s just how a traumatized child is going to act. On a deeper personal level, it hurts and angers me to see people completely miss the point of Amanda’s character. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m projecting, I’m only recognizing that the common sentiments surrounding Amanda were the exact same expressed towards me as a child and it simply concerns me. Of course I hold a level of responsibility for dealing with these emotions. I’m not saying you’re evil for believing one is bad, I’m just explaining why personally it hurts to see these kids demonized.

I know I talked a lot about Amanda but this OBVIOUSLY extends to Wooly. Because it’s very realistic to have this scared and traumatized kid, express appeasement behaviors through “helping” or “assisting” Hameln. This doesn’t make him evil, because he’s essentially being forced. And placing blame on him sometimes can come across as victim blaming.

The ugly truth about trauma, especially on impressionable kids, is that it can result in harmful behaviors for everyone involved. And I LOVE that ATA isn’t stepping away from that, nor the complicated relationships that may rise from it. That’s part of the reason I adore ATA so much. It’s focused on the kids (especially in a society so adult centric) and seems to portray them realistically as hurt kids.

I feel like having one of them turn out to be evil would just be a major disappointment, as well as a bit of a cop-out- like they were afraid of committing to the story they were trying to tell with these two children

Mainly putting this on my main blog because F/Ovember is currently happening on @staticshipstation (check that out btw)

But one of the reasons I have “if you villainize Amanda/Wooly DNI” is not only because.. well they’re my kids and I adore them. Like these are not villains these are my beautiful imperfect children.

But also because honestly?… I think it’d really hurt the story if either turned out to be true.

One of the reasons I love and adore ATA is its story and how fucking tragic and almost real it is. Guy with genuine heart and ambition wants to achieve his dreams (Sam) but some fuckass corporation taints his goal of wanting to help children (Hamlen). It’s the story of a shitty company doing shitty things to people who don’t deserve it.

And I’m sorry but having the wrench of “OH YEAH AND ALSO THE LITTLE GIRL/SHEEP ARE EVIL!!!” Is.. so out there and would honestly just be really awkward in the story.

Like are Wooly and Amanda perfect? By all means no. But people are acting like Wooly is some Disney twist villain from the 2010s or that Amanda is some spoiled brat. When the reality is that both of them, to an extent, are victims.

They just deal with their traumas VERY VERY differently.

Amanda keeps being invasive and even aggressive at times. This anger is justified, by all means, Jesus Christ. She deserves to be angry. But at the same time that doesn’t negate the fact she’s hurt people doing this, though it’s important to note that doesn’t mean her own pain doesn’t valid. Wooly tends to bootle shit up and push it to the side. When something in his so obviously wrong in front of him he hides it so deep. He’s scared it might trigger something and that he might get hurt.

These characters and the dynamic is just so deep and complex that the sudden twist of “OH AND WOOLY WAS WORKING FOR HAMLEN THE WHOLE TOME >:D!!” Or “AMANDA WAS ACTUALLY TRYING TO KILL YOU!!” In my opinion, minimizes everything set up.

I want to end this off by saying that anyone is valid for believing these theories, despite my qualms with them, I can understand how people came to these conclusions… however it’s just not content I really want to engage with personally.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (15/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: With the rut drawing to a close, you and Sylus look to the future for what this means for you both.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor breeding kink. P in V.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (16)

Read on AO3

You soon realized that dragon ruts were not for the faint of heart. The next week of your life was the most exhausted you had ever been. Every single day, multiple times a day, Sylus found you wherever you were and fucked you within an inch of your life. He had cooled off a little, able to push aside the lustful haze to offer you some respite the longer it went on.

But that first day had been the most feral he had gotten. You hadn’t left the hoard room until late into the evening and that was just because you absolutely needed more food than what he scrounged up from the kitchen between rounds. Thankfully the entire rut didn’t need to take place in the hoard room so you at least got the cushion of the bed back to make things a little more comfortable.

You were also shocked at how sweet he was during the whole thing. Despite how rough things got and how filthy he spoke, he would always be there to help ease you back down. And if you really didn’t want to have sex, if you were just too sore for anymore he didn’t push you.

In between rounds you’d lay together and talk about what your future child was going to be like. “And you’re sure I’m not going to end up laying an egg?”

Sylus chuckled. “Yes. You won’t lay an egg.”

“But the woman who birthed you--”

“Was cursed and her womb magically altered to be able to lay a dragon egg. You are not cursed and because I am at least half human you should have a normal live birth.” Sylus assured you, “Although, the state of the baby is uncertain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I was born I looked almost entirely human except for my eyes and as I got older the scales and tail and horns grew in. The children will most likely be the same way. But I do not know what all they may grow. Some might have horns and tails and wings and scales, others may not. Maybe one grows horns and scales but no tail. Maybe another grows wings but no claws. I cannot say for sure.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about little claws or horns complicating things when they come out.” you touched your stomach. You looked back at him. “Do you want to try one more time?”

His smile sharpened. “You bounced back quick this time. Alright then, come here.” He sat up in the bed. He pulled you across his lap, your back pressed to his chest.

He receded the armor around his hands with a small groan. “Sylus, I know it hurts you don’t have to--”

“I want to be able to play with your pussy a little before hand. The pain is temporary and not important.” he dipped his now clawless hand between your legs, the soft pad of his fingers swirling over your clit.

You reclined your head back on his shoulder as little blips of pleasure heated your body. “That’s it,” he said, “Always so responsive to me.”

He removed his hand from your pussy and sucked the juices from his fingers. You whined at the loss but you only got a dark chuckle in response. “Do not worry, little bird. You’ll get my hand and much more back in a minute. But right now, I need you to do something.”

He caressed your arms and lifted them up and behind you before curling them around his horns. “Hold onto these while I play with you and do not let go. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he sighed, feeling how tightly you were gripping his horns.

You thought he was going to go back to your pussy but instead he moved slowly, his hands gliding up and down your body at a lazy pace. He traced every dip and curve with his hands as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone. His mouth kissed down the column of your neck and to your shoulders. When his mouth landed on the faint mark of your mating bite he suck his teeth into your soft exposed skin. Arousal pooled between your legs as he continued to caress and tease you.

You could feel him getting hard underneath you. The hard ridge of flesh was hot and curved back to rest on your folds. You tried to grind against it but he pulled your hips back to keep them still. “Not yet.” his breath was hot in your ear, “I want you ready to burst when I put it in.”

He continued to strum your body, plucking at your most sensitive spots but without any of the relief you sought. It seemed wholly unfair that he could be so patient during a rut. Wasn’t he supposed to throw you to the bed and fuck you until you were screaming in a fit of lust filled rage? How come he was teasing you?

“Someone’s pouting.” he turned your face to his. “What do you want, little bird? What can I do to make that frown go away.”

“You can put your dick in me. That’d be a nice start.” you batted your eyelashes at him. “Please master?”

“Calling me master while I’m in rut,” he growled, biting your neck again. “Do you think that a wise decision?”

“I think it’ll get me what I want.” you smirked. “So please, will you put your dick in me and breed my pussy, master?”

“That dirty trick won’t work forever.” Sylus muttered angrily as he lifted your hips up.

“I just need it to work now.”

“Becoming my mate made you such a brat.” he hissed as he lowered you down onto his cock. “There, you have your precious dick snug in that tight little pussy. If you want it bred though, you have to work for it.”

“But--”

“You expect your master to do all the work? That’s what you’re here for. Now get moving but don’t move your hands. Keep them wrapped around my horns.” he cupped your breasts and pinched and pulled at your nipples.

You began shaking your hips, pulling yourself up and down on his lap. His cock slid against your walls, sending bursts of ecstasy into your brain while he played with your breasts. He had sufficiently worked you up enough that you felt like you could come right then.

“You feel so good, wildfire.” he moaned into your neck. “This is exactly where I want you forever. Fucking yourself on my cock, trying to make me come. Cause that’s what you want, right? You want me to come. You want me to come inside you and breed this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Yes!” you clamped down on him tighter. “Yes Sylus! I want it! I need it!”

“I know you do.” he groaned, drawing in a sharp breath as you sped up. “You make me wanna come, wildfire. Just keep bouncing yourself on my dick.”

One of his hands trailed down your stomach and found your clit, adding to the sensations that were already overloading your body. “I won’t come until you do.” he said. “So if you want my cum you have to come for me, wildfire. Come on you master’s cock and he’ll give you what you want. What you need.”

“Ha…ha…ah fuck!” you forced your hips to move faster, chasing a release so close yet just out of reach. Your hands were cramping holding onto Sylus’s horns. The tighter you held them the heavier his breathing got.

“Sylus…” you whimpered. You were so close. “Sylus please!”

“Right here. I’m right here.” he craned your head back to kiss you. “You can do it. Just come for me.” he rubbed your clit faster, his other hand squeezed your breast.

“Sylus!” you moaned against his lips as you both came. He smothered the moan with another kiss, panting against your lips.

“So good. You are so fucking good, wildfire.” he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

Your arms fell to your sides as you relaxed against him. He rubbed at your shoulders, relieving the ache that had grown there. He moved you back so you were laying side by side on the bed again.

You took several deep breaths to center yourself, grounding yourself by nuzzling into Sylus’s chest. “Hey, not that this hasn’t been a lot of fun but how much longer is this rut going to last? I’m getting exhausted.”

Sylus rolled his eyes. “You were the one that tackled me into bed this morning, not the other way around.” he reminded you. “I think you forget that your libido is just as bad, if not worse than mine can be.”

“Fine. I admit it. But really, do you think we’re any closer to knowing if I’m pregnant or not?” you stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my sweet little bird,” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “If you had let me speak this morning instead of dragging me back into bed I would have been able to tell you that you already are.”

“What?”

“You’re pregnant. I could smell the change this morning. That’s why I originally came in here. I was going to tell you after you had a chance to wake up a little more.” he was smiling the widest you had ever seen him.

“I’m really…” tears sprang to your eyes. “We’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes, we are.”

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck. It was happening! It was really happening!

Oh gods it was happening…you were…with a… You were going to give birth to a little dragon baby. Oh gods. This was actually happening! It wasn’t just a fun roleplay in bed. It was real. You had a little dragon growing in your womb.

“You look panicked. Are you alright?” Sylus asked. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am! I am ridiculously happy!” you assured him. “I’m also kinda terrified. In a few months we’re going to have a baby. We’re going to be parents and be in charge of another life. I mean, how do we even do that?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

With your pregnancy confirmed the rut wore off. You were thankful for the respite but now your mind was filled with nothing but preparations for the baby. You weren’t even showing yet and all you could do was make lists of things that needed done.

“Where is the baby going to sleep?” You asked Sylus one afternoon as you sat at the kitchen table, a list of things that needed done in front of you. At the top of the list was make a nursery.

“I suspect they’ll sleep in our room until they’re old enough to move them to their own room. There’s a lot of empty rooms in the mountain. We can fit a whole brood of hatchlings in here.” he kissed the top of your head and went about grabbing a bowl of stew from the large pot over the fire.

“A brood? Exactly how many kids do you want to pump into me?”

“I was thinking at least six or more.” he said with a shrug.

“Six!” you shouted.

“My ideal is nine since it’s a lucky number.” he took in your dumbstruck expression. “What?”

“You are insane if you think I’m going to birth nine kids.” you couldn’t even comprehend having a family that large. “I’ll give you three.”

“Seven.”

Was he haggling the number of kids you were going to have? Fine then. “Maybe four.”

“Five?”

“Four.”

“Alright, four.” he set another bowl of stew done for you. “Make sure to finish that. You’re eating for two now.”

“I know.” you set the list aside. “I need to go into town and do some shopping later, as well as tell my father and friends the news.”

“I’ll take you down whenever you’re ready. Are you nervous at all about telling them?”

“A little. It’s only recently that father came around to you and I’m not sure how he’s going to react. I hope he’ll be happy with the idea of being a grandfather at least.”

“You’re giving him his first grandchild, he’ll be thrilled no matter what.” Sylus assured you.

You grabbed some coins from the hoard room and left with Sylus for the village. Your first stop was to find your father and tell him the news. Sylus walked with you to the house but stayed in the background as you talked to your father. Your father was shocked at first but was soon smiling and congratulating you and Sylus both on your upcoming bundle of joy.

“I’ll have to get started working then.” he said, “I’m going to make a mobile for you to hang over the crib.”

“That sounds wonderful, father. Thank you.” you hugged him again. “I actually came into town to commission the woodworker for the cradle as well as buy some fabric and yarn to make baby clothes. I also need to find Tara and tell her. I know she’s going to be thrilled too.”

“That she will be. Congratulations, sweet pea. I can’t wait to meet them when they’re born.” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and you were on your way.

You left to run your other errands. Sylus was still by your side, looming in the corner wherever you went like a shadow. The village had really come to like him but he was still rather uncomfortable with the attention. He looked like he was going to fly away when you told Tara the news about your pregnancy and had given Sylus a huge hug in her excitement. She had promised to do a reading for your pregnancy as soon as possible and tell her mother so she could make you a perfect baby blanket for the little one.

Your last stop after the fabric shop was the woodworker to commission the cradle. There were some other people there that saw you come in with Sylus and froze. The woodworker looked up though and smiled. “Ah, what can I do for you today?”

“Hello, I came with a very special request. Mind you, I won’t need it for a couple months so take your time but what I really need is a cradle.”

“A cradle?” the woodworker smiled. “Oh my dear girl, you’re having a baby?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“Another mighty dragon in the village. What wonderful news.” the woodworker called to Sylus, “How big of a baby do we need to plan for?”

“A regular sized cradle should be fine.” Sylus said. “They shouldn’t be much different from a human baby.”

Sylus looked to his side where a man that had been waiting in the shop was staring at him. You didn’t recognize him immediately but it was a decent sized village, you didn’t have every face memorized. Sylus didn’t seem to appreciate the man’s staring and glared at him. “Do you have something to say to me?”

The man shook his head and took off. While most people in the village were used to Sylus there were some who still didn’t entirely trust him. It was an inevitability but hopefully in the years to come everyone would come to recognize him not as a threat but as a neighbor.

Once everything was done and finished you stopped by to say a final goodbye to your father and returned to the mountain.

You set what you had bought down and started getting preparations ready for dinner. While you were cooking you kept hearing Sylus walking back and forth past the kitchen. What was he doing now? While dinner simmered over the fire you went out to find him.

It was then that you noticed there was a carpet under your feet. That definitely hadn’t been there before. Where had it come from? And there were more carpets! They made a trail down the corridor and into your bedroom. Sylus was in there unrolling another carpet and layering it with the others.

“What are you doing? Where’d all the carpet come from?”

“Ah, yes,” he stood up, “I got to thinking that when the baby is born it’d be best if they had something soft to crawl around on so I’ve been finding whatever rugs I could from the hoard room and laid them out. I may also need to go around the walls and smooth them out so if they run into them they don’t get cut.”

It was endearing watching him worry and fret about how to make the mountain safer for your baby. You hadn’t even been pregnant a month and he was already doing so much. You walked up to him, your feet squishing against the plush carpet, and hugged him. “I’m so glad that our baby is going to have you as a father. I really am.”

His arms closed around you. “I’m the lucky one, really. To have a child with you. Knowing that this child is going to have you as their mother.” he knelt down, his face inches from your stomach. “Your mother is so good, little one. And I am going to love and protect you both for the rest of my life. I swear, nothing bad will ever happen to you so long as I draw breath.”

He kissed your stomach. You ran your hands through his hair, holding him there as he rested his head against you. “I can’t wait to meet our little one too.”

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 21

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: our final chapter! thank you so much for reading this series. will be now working on jenson's fic and maybe an about you special chapter if you folks like that??? hehe enjoy

About You Series

2019, Suzuka Circuit

Mark watched the couple have a table for themselves. The body language alone could talk about how delighted Sebastian was and how comfortable Y/N is back in his presence. He smiled as he sips his cup of coffee.

"Uncle Mark, who is the pretty girl?" Margarette asked.

The little girl didn't stop asking question after recognizing Y/N as the girl who saved her from getting lost in Singapore. It took a lot of begging for her to part ways with Y/N so she could talk to Sebastian privately. Mark smiles thinking how Sebastian doesn't seem to be the only Vettel that Y/N charmed now.

"My sister and your Papa's..." Mark answers and he debates how to answer Sebastian's relationship with Y/N "bestfriend, your Papa's bestfriend"

Margarette's eyes widened in surprise, "if that is Papa's bestfriend then why don't I see her a lot?"

"Its complicated"Mark sips his coffee again to hide his nervousness.

"Compwicayed?"

The confused look in her face seems to signal to Mark that its the first time that she encountered the word. Mark tried to wrack his mind a way to explain the situation to the kid.

"You'll get it when you get older"Mark assures.

"But Y/N should come visit me more often if he is Papa's bestfriend" Margarette insists.

"I sure hope so"

Back at the other table, the conversation seems to be more quiet as if they were both not sure which part should they talk about first. After so many years of waiting for each other, they just felt speechless because this moment seems unreal. Sebastian feels like any second now, the alarm would ring and everything will fade away.

"All those years? You were just here in Japan?"Sebastian could not believe it.

She nods with a shy smile on her face.

"The community is well nice here. A good rehab to help me walk again. People here respects privacy" she enumerates.

"And since when did you start walking again?"

"I think spring of 2017"Y/N recalls "It was not easy to walk again and it really was more of a mental strength issue.."

Her right hand fiddles with the necklace, a habit that she never outgrew. Sebastian finds comfort that there may be some changes in her life but she is still the same old girl that he met years ago.

His eyes trailed at the pendant on the necklace and that's when Sebastian noticed the familiar piece.

"You kept it?"

"Why would I throw it away?" she asked

"I thought you hated me" Sebastian knew that he deserves to be hated for everything he said that night.

"And I thought you hated me"she rebuts.

The driver immediately shakes his head sideways. There is a higher chance that he would hate himself before hating Y/N. It was frankly impossible for Y/N to do anything to make him hate her.

"I searched for you ever since I went back to my senses that I said some hurtful things that I didn't mean that night" Sebastian held her free hand.

The feeling of holding her hand again just felt right.

"I wanted to hold your hand again and we will go to your rehab sessions. I wanted to pick you up when you fall. I wanted to cheer you on when you take your steps again. But I wasn't there because my stupid words created a wedge between us" he continues.

There were tears on her eyes. Sebastian doesn't know it but she remembers all those times where she suffered alone. She didn't have anyone, just strangers or staffs in the hospitals. Maybe she have tried to imagine Sebastian being there for her as well during that time.

"But I'm not going to let you walk alone again, I'm here to stay. I promised myself to be a better man when you come back so you don't have to leave again. I promised that while you rebuild yourself, I will also do that so that when the time comes and we meet again, we can get a shot at this." Sebastian's words were determined and sincere.

Y/N looks at him hopefully. However, her eyes found the figure of little Margarette and remember the dilemma that she may put her through.

"What about Hana and..." she whispers "Margarette?"

"We're coparenting and Hana has long moved on with a guy in Switzerland name is Connor and they are pretty serious" Sebastian updates.

She nods in understanding.

"But Margarette, I can't let go of her" Sebastian admits "She is my world ever since we got seperated"

This time, Y/N's hand other hand found its way on top of Sebastian's. It was like a gentle way of her assuring that she wouldn't ask for that.

"I would never ask to seperate the two of you" she states "if you would have me then I would like to not just get to know you again but get to know Margarette as well"

It brings tears of happiness in Sebastian's eyes. It was like everything was finally falling back to places. Even if it took so long to happen, he was so glad that it was happening.

"We'll be okay?"

And Y/N nods.

2019, Interlagos

F1Gossips In a surprise turn of events, Sebastian Vettel reunites with Y/N Webber as they arrive together for media day

User11 MY PARENTS!!!!

User7 everybody stay calm, whats the procedure!!! User8 no one is calm, we have prayed for this for years

User9 they look so happy

User18 ikr, even if seb has a bad car, he smiles like he is a world champion here User17 and lets talk about how i was so happy to see Y/N again

User81 was there! and i saw her and i couldnt believe my eyes!

User5 she is so brave and she is so strong. we hope she feels the warm support

Webber Returns for an Australian driver

The paddock was buzzing with excitement as news spread around the return of the infamous Y/N Webber to the public eye. After disappearing for several years, she walks to the free practice of Interlagos with a rising australian driver, Oscar Piastri.

She confirms in an interview that she will be back to work with her brother Mark, who is currently Piastri's manager. After the successful win of Piastri in Eurocup last October, Y/N announced Piastri is now moving up to Formula 3 in 2020. The reason for their presence in Interlagos is purely out of the invitation of the Renault garage but she states its a way to motivate Piastri to find his direction.

"It won't be difficult to move Oscar up. I definitely think that in a few years or so then he would be competing here in Interlagos with the rest of the Formula 1 drivers" states Y/N.

When asked about her personal life, Y/N redirects focus towards Piastri's growing career. However, the clear joy from some of the old drivers have been evident with her return. Lewis Hamilton described that "it was nice to have an old friend back in the paddock" and Y/N has been photographed with the Mercedes driver together with Scuderia Ferrari's Sebastian Vettel in several free practice pictures.

2019, Yas Marina Circuit

When Sebastian called asking that he needs help and he sent a location for a very expensive jewelry shop, Mark almost had a heart attack. He probably broke all the speed limits just to get to the store at a records time and prepared his fist to strangle the German driver.

"Where is that piece of shit?" he shouts as he opens the door.

A startled Sebastian rises from one of the waiting area chairs.

"Do you have to be so angry?" Sebastian complained.

Mark tried his best to calm himself down. Thinking happy thoughts and world peace before he says his next few words.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark asked slowly "Why are you buying a ring?"

It was now Sebastian's turn to look at Mark as if he was crazy. Mark just kept his harsh glare towards Sebastian and it was like they were transported to those years when they were crashing with each other in Red Bull.

"Did you get her pregnant? I swear to God sebastian, I'm going to kill you right here and right now" Mark threatens.

"What? No!"

"Then why the hell are you buying a ring?"

"Because I love her"

Suddenly the buzzing of the shop suddenly goes quiet with the declaration of love of Sebastian. Mark's glare softened with the realization that maybe he overreacted and overthinked the whole thing.

"You thought" Sebastian catches on "That I'm proposing because I got her pregnant? Do you really think I will just marry her out of obligation?"

"Hey, its my job as a brother to overthink that all men are never good enough for my sister" Mark defended himself.

Sebastian shakes his head in disbelief

"Just help me pick out, I need your opinion because maybe the stuffs she liked changed over time" Sebastian went back to the original dilemma that he called Mark for.

Laid out in front of them were different cuts of diamonds in different designs. Sebastian was torn whether to pick something simple stone or should it be an extravagant as a marquise.

"They told me that I should give her something heirloom since its just an engagement ring but then I told them I already gave them that ring years before as a promise so this has to be different..."

While Sebastian is ranting, Mark was trying his best not to show emotions. He was reeling back to moments of a younger Y/N who wished to have her very own prince charming and now here she was about to be swept away by his former teammate.

"The oval one with the pretty blue diamonds all over it"Mark pointed out.

"Yeah, that was like the necklace I gave her for her birthday" Sebastian picks it up delicately "You think she will like it?"

"She would love it"

"Okay please ring this up and charge me" Sebastian instructs one of the sales assistant present.

Mark couldn't believe what was happening. A part of him was overjoyed to be included in the ring picking but there was this other part that knows that he will have to give her away.

"I thought you two are taking things slow?" Mark wondered.

"That we are but I just want to be ready" Sebastian agrees.

"Ready?"

Sebastian runs a hand over his hair, a sheepish smile on his face. It was the same kind of smile that he has whenever he talks about Y/N. Mark doesn't know how he missed it all these years.

"We waited for each other to be better version of ourselves. We gave each other time and now we meet again. We have some catch up to do and so but after that I feel like its just a few months before we level up this relationship" Sebastian explains.

Mark nods in understanding

"I'm really serious about her, Mark. I know I have been very stupid before but I have grown and I have learned. I'm not hurting her or even losing her ever again"

There was something that made Mark resign and give him the complete sign of approval. He knows how much Y/N have also loved Sebastian and maybe it was about time for Y/N to make her own family with him.

"Just take good care of her, she deserves good things"

"That's what I intend to promise her when I marry her" Sebastian assures.

2020, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

A group of drivers were huddled up in a room and they were all engaged in a very serious conversation. One may think that this was a grid meeting but it seems like it was all centered to the whiteboard with the messy writing "how will Seb propose?".

Sebastian was actually quite desperate to ask help and initially he sent the message to the groupchat he had with Charles and Mick. However, he wasn't particularly tech savvy so it was sent to the grid group chat.

With everyone finding out the information, everyone is pitching in their ideas.

"I know, you should set up a picnic and then propose to her while eating" Daniel suggested.

"And then a bee or a wasp will invade their space and it will ruin the whole thing" Kimi countered.

"What about a stargazing" Charles pitched in "And then you get this telescope and then she looks at it then you get on one knee and when she looks back at you she is surprised"

"That's actually a good idea" the room murmurs in agreement.

"But what if there are no stars?" Sebastian worriedly asked.

So there goes the stargazing idea scratched out in the perfect proposal plan.

"Just propose to her at a Grand Prix" Lewis suggested "We're always in a Grand Prix"

"But its too much attention and I'm sure they want this to be intimate" the young Max Verstappen voiced out.

"But isn't it romantic to have a grand gesture at the place where their love story revolved?" Carlos backed up Lewis' suggestion.

The Red Bull driver shrugged in response.

"I think the best way of proposing would be in your flat or when you are feeling domestic, its a moment for you two and its going to give you a more real speech without all the fanfares and pressure" Max explained.

Charles shakes his head violently.

"No, you see this is why romance is dead." Charles argues.

The whole room was chaotic and ideas were pitched left and right. Sebastian felt like banging his head to the table but the heaviness of the box in his pocket is much more heavier.

"I still can't believe you didn't try to propose during the holidays" George exclaimed "That would have been perfect and no fuss at all"

"He tried to but then he got food poisoning during Christmas and flights got cancelled for New Year" Mick retells the unfortunate story.

"Maybe its the universe way of telling you that its not the right time"Sergio joked.

It immediately earned him a kick for his chair from Charles and Mick.

"We have waited for this for years so don't jinx it" Charles whined.

Their whole meeting was interrupted by a knock, a steward announced that the testing will commence in 10 minutes so they should be back to their garages.

"Don't worry Seb, we will help you out on this" Kimi patted his former teammate's back.

"Consider my suggestion" Max insists.

2020, somewhere in Japan

Usually its already halfway through the season already but June rolls in without any races. The whole world seems to stop because of the pandemic and its something very frustrating for most. However, here in Japan, Sebastian and Y/N were locked down since March and somehow they are enjoying the domesticity of life.

"Isn't it my shift today to cook?" Sebastian asked as he saunters to the kitchen.

The smell of a freshly cooked breakfast made him smile. He is still getting used how lucky he was that he gets to wake up with this kind of view.

"It was but you had a long round of meetings last night so I figured I'll do the cooking today" Y/N smiled.

Sebastian hugs her from behind and clings to her as she cooks.

"How was your meeting last night?"she wonders.

"Ehh could have been an email" Sebastian shrugs "And maybe I need to get back in shape to race for July"

Worry flashes across her face and it was not missed by Sebastian. She knows how much he misses racing but she wanted him healthy and safe.

"July, isn't that too soon? Is it safe?" she questioned.

"Relax" Sebastian assures "They are making sure that they are going to lessen the risk and the crowds. Its still up for negotiation"

"I supposed if Formula 1 is coming back then maybe Formula 3 is also going to follow soon" she sighs.

"Our vacation is ending" Sebastian jokes.

Y/N turns off the stove and faces Sebastian. She returns his embrace and stayed in that hug as if a bubble protecting her from whatever is happening in the outside world.

"I just want to stay like this forever" she mutters.

She knows its quite an awful statement. Some people have a hard time and they have to go back to their old lives soon. However, for the two of them, it was the break and the catching up that they needed.

Little did she know, these past few months seem to be Sebastian's vision of the future. It was something that perhaps what he looks forward to retirement.

"We can stay like this forever" Sebastian agrees "Just domestic life, farming, cooking, reading"

"I still have to work for Oscar" she reminds.

"Then you can work for Oscar and then we will be following you around" Sebastian smiles.

"What?" she laughs "You mean to tell me you won't be racing?"

It feels weird for Sebastian to reach that realization that he may have to retire some time soon. He loved what he did but he thinks its time for him to take on a new role and just enjoy life in a slower pace.

"I wanna quit racing and I wanna marry you" Sebastian finally makes the statement.

Y/N looks at him as if he misspoke something but Sebastian pulls out the box. He carries it everywhere with him just incase he decides its the perfect time to propose. He has been carrying it with him ever since this pandemic started because it was only during that time that he realized that moments are fleeting. If the opportunity exist then go and seize it.

Maybe this isn't in a fancy place to ask for marriage or maybe its not too publicized but this is the moment he has been waiting for. He would be a total idiot to lose it again.

"You are the love of my life that I have waited for a very long time now" Sebastian goes down on his knees and opening box "I have already achieved a lot of stuffs and won my fair share of championship or podiums. I achieved most of my dreams already and now I want to focus on my dreams of spending life with you. If you would have me then I would like more peaceful mornings like this one. I want to be that person that you come home after a long day at work. I want you and Margarette in those spontaneous grocery trips or the midnight snacks. I see you being a part of my life for as long as I live so if you will have me then I promise to be the best husband you could ask for"

The whole speech was not prepared. Even if Sebastian has visualized this speech for a while now, he seems to be underprepared and spewing out nonsense. He could only hope to hear a positive response for her.

"You are an idiot proposing to me in our kitchen" she finally says

A breath of relief rushes over Sebastian. He stands up to wipe her tears away and places the ring on her finger.

"Hey, I haven't said yes yet!" she jokes.

"I don't see you saying no"

2021, Spain

F1Gossips This year's silly season seems to be pointing in Spain. Drivers both current and former were spotted in their suits in a church in Spain.

User6 who is getting married???

User7 MARRIED???? User9 is jenson making poor choices again lol User10 thats just mean.

User5 i dont see pictures of sebastian here. thats weird, that's suspicious

User19 maybe he wasnt invited User55 lmao, why would they not invite seb?? User3 what if its seb's wedding User15 time to take your delulu pills User3

User13 let me innn, i wanna know who's marriage is this that got everyone in the new grid and old grid in.

User17 can drive to survive cover this event??

Y/NPrivate we waited for so long for this moment to happen. i still can't believe that i get to marry my first love. this relationship was a rollercoaster and we have spent years before coming to terms about our feelings. all i can say is everything is worth it because now i am building a family with you. thank you for bringing joy into my life. thank you for waiting for us to be the healed version of ourselves. and like i said, i'll be yours for eternity. kisses

CharlesLeclerc i swear i just finished crying and now i am crying again??!!

Y/NPrivate you always cry with ferrari -seb CharlesLeclerc you better watch out!! Y/NPrivate what are they gonna do fire me? i mean they already picked a replacement for me so they don't scare me -seb CharlesLeclerc Y/N YOUR HUSBAND IS RUDE, GET HIM OFF YOUR ACCOUNT Y/NPrivate its a conjugal account now hahaha

MickSchumacher papa would have been so happy to see his two favorite people finally get together

Y/NPrivate we wish he was there to see us

JensonButton im really happy for you Y/N, seb you know the rest mate

Y/NPrivate thanks Jenson, seb also sends his gratitude. PS we got to chat soon about the girl you are seeing JensonButton whatttt thats crazyyyyyy how did you know that Y/NPrivate duh i have eyes -seb JensonButton make your own instagram account seb!

Hanna_Prater its a very lovely wedding, thank you for inviting us!!

Y/NPrivate thank you for designing the venue, i really love it hanna! Hanna_Prater were coparents so only the best for you! Y/NPrivate love u hanna! sending my regards to connor as well

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[ghouly-boiiiii]

Coming back to Ghoulcy after a long break. Upon rewatching the show again, I honestly feel more strongly than ever that there's gonna be some canon Ghoulcy in the show at some point...

But I wanna clarify what I mean by that...

If that happens, obviously that's gonna create a bit of a love triangle between Lucy, Max and The Ghoul. And honestly, the triangle's probably gonna end up being pretty one-sided. Like I can't say whether I think Lucy will develop feelings for Cooper. But I definitely think its setting it up for Cooper to start having feelings for Lucy. And I think Lucy and Cooper might bang, just because Lucy is one horny lady with not a squeamish bone in her body lol.

Of course, that would definitely complicate things between her and Max even more than they already are. (You know, her dad being the one who blew up Max's home, the fact she offered to have him live in the vault with her but probably won't want to return after what she's learned, Max now being a knight, etc.) And who knows whether they will find each other and end up being together in the end, but...

Whatever the case, I don't think there's going to be a happily ever after for anybody. Not for Lucy and Max and definitely not for Lucy and Cooper. But it's certainly an opportunity for a lot of interesting drama and frankly, as someone who's been playing the Fallout games for 10+ years, I'd honestly be kinda disappointed if there wasn't some kind of human/ghoul relations going on. I mean, it's no more weird or ridiculous than any other absurd piece of lore in the Fallout universe. It's absolutely on brand 100%.

And if you think they won't do it just because they're worried about what people think... I would argue, they incinerated puppies in the beginning of the second episode... I don't think the show gives a shit about how anybody feels lol. The people making it are obviously passionate about the games and being true to the universe they're expanding upon. They've already fully embraced the dark and quirky elements and tone of the games. And they seem pretty cool with the Ghoulcy shippers too haha. So no, I don't think it's delulu to think there might be at least a little somethin' somethin' happening between Lucy and Cooper. Even if it's Cooper just pining hopelessly over her. Obviously, I could be very wrong. But I don't think I am. We'll see what happens, though. I'm sure I will still love the show even if it doesn't, but damn it would be fucking rad if it did lol.

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbor (matthew sturniolo)

pt 12

The next morning, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind was a mess, replaying every word Matt had said the night before, every expression on his face as he finally told me the truth.

He’d been honest—brutally honest—and now I was left to unpack it all. He told me that Abbie had been his girlfriend up until a month ago. He said he was happy with her, or at least he thought he was. He believed he loved her. But then I came back into his life, and it hit him like a tidal wave.

“All the emotions, the hurt, the love, and the memories I had buried came rushing back, Y/N,” he had confessed, his voice trembling. “I tried to ignore it. I tried to pretend I didn’t feel it, but I couldn’t. And when we planned that trip… I was still with her, but I knew it wasn’t fair. I couldn’t lead her on, not when my heart was still yours. It’s always been yours.”

I hadn’t known what to say at the time, and even now, I wasn’t sure how I felt. It hurt, knowing he had lied to me just to get me back, But at the same time, I understood. I understood how complicated and messy love could be, how the lines blurred when emotions ran deep.

With a sigh, I rolled onto my side, my fingers tracing patterns on the blanket. I didn’t know where this left us.

Curiosity got the better of me. I reached for my phone, opening Matt's Instagram and scrolling through his following until I found her. Abbie.

Her profile picture showed a tall, blonde girl with warm brown eyes, standing in front of a beach sunset. She was stunning, the polar opposite of me—my dark hair, big blue eyes, and softer frame. My thumb hovered over her profile for a moment before tapping on it. Her page was filled with polished photos, perfectly curated snapshots of her life, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of inadequacy.

I tapped the message bar, half-expecting to see nothing, but instead, I was met with an avalanche of unread DMs. My stomach dropped. With all the messages I get in a day, I’d never noticed these, but now I couldn’t look away.

The first few messages were from a month ago: “I know who you are. Don’t pretend you don’t know about me.” “You’ve been with Matt this whole time, haven’t you? He’s been lying to both of us.”

Then they started getting angrier: “You’re a joke. You think you’re better than me? He’s going to get bored of you just like he did with everyone else.” “Have fun with him while it lasts, because when he realizes you’re not worth it, I’ll be the one laughing.”

And then the tone shifted again, dripping with resentment and heartbreak: “I hate you. I hate him. You’ve ruined everything.” “He said he loved me. How could you both do this to me?”

My hands trembled as I scrolled through the messages. I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, I understood her pain. She was hurting, lashing out, and searching for someone to blame. But on the other hand, her words cut deep, making me question everything.

Closing my eyes, I set the phone down, taking a shaky breath. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the phone screen, the messages blurring into an indecipherable mess. My chest tightened, and I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped my lips.

I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, my heart ached for Abbie. She had been hurt, blindsided by Matt’s decision to leave her, and the pain she poured into those messages was all too familiar. I’d been there once, in the position of feeling discarded and unworthy, and I knew how devastating it was.

But on the other hand, a pang of jealousy coursed through me, sharp and unexpected. She was gorgeous—tall, radiant, and confident in ways I couldn’t even fake. She looked perfect, like someone who had it all together, while I felt like a mess in comparison. And yet, Matt had left her.

For me.

But why?

The question echoed in my mind, breaking me down further. Why would he leave someone like her—someone who seemed so put-together, so amazing—for someone like me? Someone with a past as messy and broken as ours. I didn’t understand how he could look at me, with all my flaws and insecurities, and choose me over someone who seemed so effortless.

I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest as tears streamed down my face. A wave of self-doubt crashed over me, drowning out the small voice in my head that told me I was enough.

Matt had always seen something in me that I struggled to see in myself. But now, as I lay there with Abbie’s words ringing in my ears, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake. And worse, if I was the one ruining everything all over again.

I grabbed my phone, my hands trembling as I typed out a message to Matt. The chaos in my mind was too much to handle on my own. For the first time, I couldn’t even bring myself to talk to Charlie about it. The embarrassment and shame I felt over my emotions were suffocating, wrapping around me like a weight I couldn’t shake. Reaching out to Matt felt like my only option, even if I wasn’t sure I had the strength to face his response.

Y/N: Hey...

Matt: Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?

Y/N: I don’t know I’ve just been thinking.

Matt: About?

Y/N: Abbie.

Matt: What about her?

Y/N: I saw her messages. I didn’t mean to, but they’re there, and I read them. She’s beautiful, Matt. Like, stunning. She seems like she had everything together. I don’t get how you could leave someone like that for me.

Matt: Y/N, no.

Y/N: I mean it. She’s tall, gorgeous, probably stable. Meanwhile, I’m this emotional wreck with a history of fighting you every step of the way. I don’t understand why you’d pick me. Why would you leave her for me?

Matt: Because she wasn’t you.

Y/N: Matt.

Matt: No, listen to me. You want to know why I left her? Why I chose you? It’s because I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. You’re the only person I’ve ever truly loved. No one else compares, not even close. I tried to move on with Abbie because I thought I had to. I had finally accepted that I'd never hear or see you again, that I’d never have a chance to fix what I broke with you. So I tried to forget, but I couldn’t. Not even for a second.

Matt: Do you know what it felt like to see you again? To have you back in my life, even as a neighbor? It was like this massive part of me that had been missing finally clicked back into place. Abbie’s great, yeah, but she’s not you. She could never be you.

Matt: And trust me, I know I don’t deserve another chance with you after everything we’ve been through. But when we went on that trip and I saw the way you looked at me, the way you laughed with me, the way you trusted me again, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I couldn’t stay with her knowing my heart was never really hers.

I stared at the messages, my chest tightening with every word Matt had sent. The weight of his confession crushed me—knowing I had somehow unraveled someone else’s world just by being in his. My hands were shaking as I read the last text, and before I could stop myself, I hurled my phone at the wall. The loud crack echoed through the room, and I collapsed onto the bed, sobs ripping out of me uncontrollably.

The reaction Im having—the tears, the screaming, the sheer weight of guilt—felt too big for just this moment. This wasn’t just about Abbie or her messages. This was about Matt. About the unresolved pain he’d left behind when we fell apart the first time. All the love, the heartbreak, and the unanswered questions I had buried were clawing their way back now. Maybe it was about every piece of hurt I had never let myself feel, every wound I had never allowed to heal. The emotions surged through me, spilling out in the form of screams and tears, and I didn’t care who heard.

The door to my room flew open, and Charlie rushed in. Her face was stricken with concern as she immediately pulled me into her arms, holding me tight. She didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what was wrong. She just sat there with me, letting me cry into her shoulder as she rubbed my back softly.

Minutes passed, maybe longer—time felt like it stopped. Finally, Charlie whispered, “Chris told me everything. You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I get it.”

I sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at her. My voice was hoarse as I said, “Grab my phone. Read Abbie’s messages.”

Charlie hesitated for a moment but nodded, moving to where my phone lay on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, I heard a crunch. Her face fell as she straightened up, holding the shattered device.

“Y/n…” she started, but I just shook my head, fresh tears spilling down my face. It felt like everything was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Charlie sat back down beside me, pulling me into another hug, and this time, I didn’t resist.

A couple of hours passed in silence, the weight of everything still heavy in the air. Charlie hadn’t left my side, even when her phone buzzed with messages from Chris. She had simply told him she wouldn’t be answering for a while and to take care of things without her for the day. I was grateful she hadn’t pushed me to talk, letting me sit in my mess without judgment.

Finally, Charlie broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “Do you want to get out of the house? Maybe get a new phone or something?”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah... that might be good.”

Dragging myself off the couch, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way to my room. My hair was a mess, my face puffy from crying, and the oversized clothes I wore didn’t help. Disappointment clawed at my chest as I compared myself to Abbie—her perfect hair, her confident smile, the way she looked so effortlessly put together. 

I sighed, pushing the thoughts away as best I could, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Slipping on my worn Converse, I picked up the shattered remains of my phone from the nightstand and made my way downstairs.

Charlie was already waiting by the door with her keys, offering me a small, reassuring smile. I managed to return it faintly as we stepped out into the sunlight and climbed into her car. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small step toward normalcy.

As Charlie drove, the quiet hum of the car was broken only by the faint sound of the radio. My mind wandered, lost in the haze of everything that had happened. My heart felt heavy, my thoughts a mess of confusion, guilt, and something I couldn’t quite name.

Suddenly, the soft, dreamy notes of "You Get Me So High" by The Neighbourhood drifted through the speakers. My chest tightened, and I immediately felt like I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just a song—it was our song. The one we played on repeat in his car, on lazy afternoons, during nights we swore we’d never forget.

And then, like a tidal wave, the memory of the letter he left me that day came crashing down. The letter I read a hundred times, the one I had hidden away but could never truly forget. "You’re my best friend. I love you forever."

My eyes burned, and I blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill. But the words replayed in my head over and over, his voice almost as if he were sitting beside me.

“Y/n, you okay?” Charlie asked softly, glancing over as we stopped at a red light.

I turned to her and nodded, forcing a smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I was.

The song continued, weaving its way into my thoughts, and all I could do was stare out the window, clutching my broken phone like it was the only thing holding me together.

Charlie and I made our way to Best Buy first. I wasn’t expecting much, but the thought of getting a new phone—especially since I hadn’t had one since college—felt like a small thing that might help take my mind off everything else. I felt a bit silly for even getting excited, but it was nice to think about something so simple.

We walked through the aisles, and Charlie was showing me the new and different iphone models, suggesting a few options. I didn’t really care about all the technical specs, just that it would work, and it would be a change from the old phone I’d been hanging onto for far too long. Eventually, I picked out a black phone pro max that felt sleek and sturdy. It was nothing extravagant, but it was definitely an upgrade. It felt good to know I was finally getting a new one.

Charlie smiled when she saw me eyeing it. "I like the pro max way more. You’ll love it."

We went up to the register, and after a few minutes, I had my brand-new phone in hand. As we left the store, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was a little win in a day that had been filled with so many mixed emotions.

As we continued with the rest of the shopping—picking up a few random things at the mall and grabbing snacks. When we got in the car to head to dinner, I hadn’t even opened the phone yet. I kept it in its box, feeling like maybe it was best to leave it for later.

We decided on an Italian restaurant nearby, Charlie and I’s comfort food. Charlie tried her best to keep the mood light, talking about everything from old college days to random drama on the internet, and I found myself laughing along.

"So, when are you going to open that new phone?" she asked as we got into the car, pointing to the box in my lap. "Come on, I know you're dying to check it out."

I hesitated, looking at the phone. “I don’t know,” I said, finally. “It’s kind of dumb, part of me’s kind of excited about it. It’s just a phone, but I don't feel like having it right now, you know?”

Charlie laughed. “I get it. It’s the little things, right? You’ve had the same one forever.”

I nodded, putting the phone back in its box. “Yeah, you would think with our jobs being on my phone I would've gotten a new one.”

Charlie drove us back home, I felt a little lighter. I hadn’t solved everything, but at least for tonight, I had something to focus on other than the mess in my head.

When we finally got home, the night air cool and crisp, Charlie and I sat down on the couch, and she grabbed my new phone from its box, her fingers quick as she started setting it up for me.

"Ready to join the world again?" she teased, handing me the phone once it was all set up.

I nodded, taking it from her with a soft smile. I hesitated for a moment before turning the screen on. As the phone came to life, I felt a little jolt of excitement, and I started to type in my passwords, getting everything back to where it needed to be.

Then, the notifications came through. Text after text popped up, and I quickly saw a few names I recognized—Chris, Matt, and Nick. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Matt's name, but I kept scrolling, trying not to overthink it.

The first text was from Chris: "Hey, just checking in. How are you doing? Call me if you need to talk."

I smiled softly at that. Chris always knew how to check in without being overwhelming.

Then there was Matt: "I know you probably need time, but just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you. Please text me when you’re ready."

I bit my lip, conflicted. Matt had been so kind, but there was still so much I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to dive back into that just yet.

And then there was Nick: "Yo, can we get pizza?"

I giggled at Nick’s utter unawareness. 

But then, the final message caught my attention. It was from a random number. I opened it, and my stomach dropped. The message was exactly like the others I’d read, but this one was... different. It felt like a sting.

“Why are you doing this? Do you really think you’re the one he wants now? You’ve always been a mess, and he’s not the guy for you. I warned him, but you wouldn’t listen. You’re nothing but a distraction.”

It was from Abbie. I was furious now, wondering how the hell she even got my number. My hands were shaking as I read the message.

I felt Charlie's eyes on me, and before I could say anything, she snatched the phone from my hands. “How the fuck did she get your number?” she hissed, fury clear on her face. “This is done now.”

I didn’t say anything at first, too caught up in the anger and confusion. Charlie was already typing something into her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.

“Normally I’d say take the high road," I muttered, swiping the message away. "But I need Matt. I don’t care anymore."

Charlie didn’t even glance up from her phone, her voice a mix of determination and protectiveness. “You and Matt need each other, and this bitch needs to fuck off. I get that she’s hurt, but she cannot talk to you like this.”

I leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes and letting out a shaky breath. Charlie’s words washed over me, I felt truly supported. Things weren’t going to be perfect right away, but with her by my side, I knew I didn’t need anyone else to be okay.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar-deactivated202 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274

[yassbishimvintage]

No Questions (Studio pt 3 )

MDNI!

Warnings: Fluff, Smut

A/N: This is for the grown and sexy. And I admit you might be slightly pissed with Amari.

Brendan was doing a small tour circuit in Chicago. She heard her phone ring. B had sent her a first class ticket to where he’s at. Amari’s eyes widened as she stared at the message that had just come through. She quickly unlocked her phone to see the ticket notification. It was a first-class plane ticket to the city Brendan was staying in, with the departure time only a few hours away.

She blinked a few times, reading the details again, still not quite processing what she was seeing. Brendan sent me a ticket?

Her mind raced. He had been in touch with her all week, sending sweet texts and checking in, but this—this felt like a bigger step. Was he trying to move things forward? Or was this just another grand gesture in a series of them?

She felt her heart start to race. On one hand, the idea of getting away for a little bit, having some time with Brendan, was tempting. But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Things had been moving fast, and now this—an unexpected trip, an invitation to step into his world a little deeper. It was a lot to process.

A few minutes passed as she sat in silence, staring at the phone. She could feel her palms sweating, and the little voice in her head was growing louder, questioning everything.

Just as she was about to overthink herself into indecision, her phone buzzed again with another text from Brendan.

“I know you’re busy, but if you can, come visit. I’d love to have you here. It’s just you and me. No work, no distractions. Think about it, but don’t think too long.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was a warmth in his message, something that made her smile despite herself. She hadn’t expected him to make such a bold move, but it was clear he wanted her there.

Amari took a deep breath, her thoughts swirling. Could she go? Would this make things clearer between them, or would it complicate everything more?

She couldn’t help but feel a pull toward him. The way he made her feel—wanted, appreciated, understood. The idea of spending time with him without distractions sounded tempting, even if it came with its own set of risks.

With a small, determined sigh, Amari finally made her decision. She quickly typed out a reply.

“I’ll be there. I’m booking my flight now. Can’t wait to see you.”

She hit send, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she imagined what the next few days would bring.

-

Amari stepped off the plane, the cool air of Chicago greeting her as she made her way to baggage claim. The city’s skyline loomed in the distance, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. It had been a spontaneous decision, but now that she was here, she felt a rush of anticipation.

She pulled up the message from Brendan, confirming the hotel where he was staying, and made her way toward the car service waiting for her. She didn’t have much time to dwell on her thoughts—her mind was too busy picturing what the next few hours would be like. The trip, the unspoken feelings, and the possibility of deepening their connection.

As she arrived at the hotel, the sleek, modern building towering before her, Amari’s heart picked up its pace. The lobby was immaculate, with polished floors and the faint scent of fresh flowers in the air. She walked up to the front desk and gave her name, her palms slightly clammy with the anticipation.

“Mr. Brendan’s expecting you,” the receptionist said with a warm smile before handing her the key to his suite. Amari took a deep breath, steadying herself as she walked toward the elevator.

When the doors opened to his floor, she could hear the faint hum of music from inside his suite. The familiar sound of Jacquees’ voice, one of his favorite artists, drifted through the cracks of the door. Amari smiled softly to herself—this was Brendan’s world, and she was about to step fully into it.

She knocked softly, waiting for him to answer. Her heart raced, each second feeling like it stretched into eternity. The door swung open, and there he was. Brendan, dressed casually, his hair slightly messy from a long day but still looking effortlessly good. His hazel eyes locked on hers, a playful smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he teased, his voice warm with a touch of relief. “Glad you decided to.”

Amari couldn’t help but grin back. “You made it hard to say no,” she said, stepping into his space.

Brendan reached out, taking her luggage and setting it aside before pulling her into a tight hug. She could feel his warmth, his strength, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. Just the two of them, here together.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured into her ear.

Amari pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Me too.”

His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin as he looked at her with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine. It was a side of Brendan she hadn’t seen before—soft and affectionate, but with an intensity that felt real.

“Come on, let me show you around,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into the suite. It was spacious, with large windows offering a panoramic view of the city. The living area was comfortable yet luxurious, with a plush couch and a few personal touches scattered around—a couple of framed album covers, a guitar by the wall, and a few items that hinted at his musical life.

Amari let her gaze wander around the room, taking it all in. It was exactly as she imagined—stylish and lived-in, but still very much his. And now, it felt like a space she could share with him.

As Brendan showed her around, his presence felt grounding, and any lingering nerves began to melt away. They chatted about everything and nothing, finding comfort in the easy flow of their conversation.

After a while, Brendan moved toward the windows and gestured for her to come closer. “What do you think?” he asked, looking out at the sprawling city.

Amari joined him, her eyes tracing the lights below. “It’s beautiful. Big change from where I’m from, but I think I could get used to it.”

Brendan gave her a sly grin. “You might just get used to a lot of things while you’re here.”

Amari turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “I think you’re right about that.”

The chemistry between them was undeniable, and as they stood there, the air between them felt charged with the unspoken possibilities of what could come next.

Brendan looked at her, his expression softening. “I’m glad you’re here, Mari. Let’s just enjoy the time we have together.”

Amari nodded, her heart swelling. She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

As Brendan kisses Amari softly, the connection between them deepens, and the tension that’s been building between them over the last few days is finally released in the warmth of the moment. His hand gently cups her face, his thumb tracing her jawline as their lips meet. The kiss is slow, deliberate—he wants to savor it, to let the uncertainty of their situation melt away, even if just for a while.

Amari, her heart racing, responds in kind, her hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt. It's the first time they've been so close since they both agreed to take things slow, and yet, the pull between them is undeniable.

As they pull back, she looks into his eyes, her breath shallow. "You sure this is what you want, B?" she asks softly, the hint of concern still lingering in her voice.

Brendan pauses, his gaze steady as he cups her face with both hands. "I'm sure," he says, his voice low and sincere. "With you, I’m sure."

He presses his forehead against hers. “Why are you so anxious about this relationship? You’re my girl.” He says.

Amari’s breath hitches at his words, her heart fluttering as his forehead presses against hers. His reassurance seems to ground her, but there’s still a gnawing hesitation within her. She lets out a quiet sigh, her hands resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

“I’m not anxious,” she begins, though the words feel less convincing than she intended. “It’s just... everything’s moving so fast. I don’t know if it’s just the thrill or something real.” She looks into his eyes, searching for answers, for something she can hold onto.

Brendan’s expression softens, and he gently tilts her chin up, guiding her to meet his gaze. “Mari,” he says, his voice calm yet firm, “it’s real. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. You’re not just some fling or a distraction. I want you. All of you.”

Amari swallows, her eyes glistening as she searches his face. It’s hard for her to fully let go of her doubts—after all, she’s been burned before, and trusting someone in his position felt like walking a fine line between security and instability.

But there’s something in the way he holds her, the way he’s always made her feel seen. Maybe, just maybe, she could trust this. Trust him.

“I just...” she starts again, her voice quieter, “I don’t want to lose what we have. This feels different, B.”

His smile softens, and he leans in to kiss her forehead gently. “You won’t lose me, Mari. I’ve got you. Always.”

He smiles. “Jump.” He says softly. She does and wraps her legs around his waist. This always made her feel safe.

Brendan’s arms immediately wrap around her, holding her securely as she jumps into him. Her legs instinctively encircle his waist, and she feels the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest. There’s something so grounding about this moment, about the way he makes her feel like she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

Her head rests against his shoulder, and she lets out a content sigh. The world outside might be fast-paced and uncertain, but right now, in his arms, everything feels calm, safe, and real.

Brendan chuckles softly, his voice a low hum against her ear. “I’ve got you, Mari. You don’t have to worry about anything when you’re with me.”

Amari smiles, her hands gently trailing down his back. “I know. It’s just hard sometimes, you know? But... when I’m like this, with you, I feel like everything will be okay.”

He tightens his hold on her for a moment, a silent promise passing between them. “That’s because it will be. We’ve got this, together.” He leans back slightly, just enough to look her in the eyes, his gaze warm and steady. “You don’t have to carry all that weight by yourself. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Amari’s heart swells, and she leans in to kiss him softly, grateful for his reassurance, for his presence in her life. For the first time in a while, she feels like she can truly exhale.

“Mari. You’re my home.” He says softly. Amari feels a warmth spread through her chest as his words sink in. "Home..." she whispers, the weight of his sentiment grounding her in a way nothing else could.

She pulls back slightly, searching his eyes to make sure she’s hearing him right. His gaze is steady, sincere, and filled with an intimacy she didn’t expect but deeply needed.

"I never thought I’d find that," she admits softly, her voice trembling just a little. "But when I’m with you, it’s like everything else just fades away. I feel like I belong. Like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be."

Brendan smiles, his hand cupping her cheek as he leans in to kiss her gently, the kind of kiss that speaks volumes without saying a word. When he pulls back, his voice is low but firm. "You do belong, Mari. With me. Always."

Her heart races, and she lets herself fall into the moment, feeling the weight of his words, the certainty in his touch. This is it—this is what she’s been searching for. A place, a person who makes everything feel like it’s falling into place.

With a soft smile, she rests her head against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I’m home too, B," she murmurs, closing her eyes, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over her. "I’m home with you."

“You better make this worth it. I had to cancel the rest of my appointments today.” She says.

Brendan chuckles softly, his lips brushing against her forehead as he adjusts his grip on her. "I’ll make it worth it, trust me." His voice is laced with a playful confidence that’s impossible to ignore. "You know I’m all about keeping my promises."

He slowly carries her to the couch, settling down with her in his lap, his hands tracing gentle patterns along her skin. The atmosphere between them shifts, an unspoken understanding passing through the air. It's more than just the physical chemistry that fuels this connection—it’s the quiet moments like these, where everything else fades into the background, and it’s just the two of them.

"You’ve worked hard, Mari," he says, his fingers dancing over her shoulders, massaging out the tension in her muscles. "You deserve a break. And I plan on giving you one... in every way possible."

She tilts her head back, allowing herself to relax into him. "You better," she says with a teasing smile, her voice soft but filled with that signature challenge she always throws his way. "I’m counting on you."

Brendan laughs softly, his lips curling into a grin. "Consider it done."

As they settle into the quiet comfort of the moment, Amari allows herself to let go, trusting in him to make this day, this time, worth every bit of the sacrifice she made. It feels right. She feels right. And for once, she’s letting herself simply enjoy it.

-

Amari slowly wakes up, the soft hotel sheets tangled around her as she stirs. The light filtering in from the window feels warm against her skin, but there's a strange emptiness in the room. She glances around, expecting to see Brendan by her side, but the bed is empty.

Confused, she stretches, trying to recall the events of last night, but everything feels a bit foggy—too much passion, too much heat. Still, she can't help but feel a tinge of unease as she notices the absence of his familiar presence.

She sits up, the cool air from the room hitting her skin as she checks the time on her phone. No messages, no calls. Her thoughts race—was it just a fleeting moment for him? Did he leave without a word?

Despite the confusion, Amari forces herself to shake it off. She quickly gets dressed, trying to push aside the doubts that are slowly creeping in. As she steps out into the hotel hallway, she hopes to find him, maybe to ask what happened, or maybe just to confirm that last night wasn’t something he wanted to erase.

Before she could she sees a card and another box on the table.

Amari pauses in the hallway, her eyes landing on the card and the box placed neatly on the table by the door. She feels a wave of curiosity wash over her as she approaches, her fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the card before she picks it up.

The card is simple—elegant with clean lines, and inside, written in Brendan’s familiar script, are a few words:

"I didn’t mean to leave you with so many questions. Let me explain when I get back. Enjoy the gift, it's a token of my appreciation for you. See you soon, B."

A sigh escapes her lips, the tension in her shoulders loosening slightly. He didn’t just leave without a word—he left a message, and it seemed genuine. But her mind still churns with questions. Why had he left so suddenly? Why didn’t he wake her?

Her attention shifts to the box beside the card. It’s carefully wrapped in sleek black paper with a metallic gold ribbon tied around it. A pang of uncertainty stirs in her chest, but she can’t help herself—she carefully unwraps the box, revealing a small velvet jewelry case inside.

Amari slowly opens it, her breath catching in her throat when she sees what’s inside—a delicate necklace with a custom pendant that reads "Mari" in elegant script. The sentiment is clear: this isn’t just a typical gift; it’s personal, thoughtful, and carries weight.

She runs her fingers over the pendant, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. She feels touched but also unsure. What does this mean for them? Why does he feel the need to give her this now?

Amari sits down on the couch, the necklace still clutched in her hand as her mind races. She looks down at the pendant, tracing the curves of the letters with her fingertips. Her thoughts spiral, a jumble of emotions swirling together, making it hard to focus on any one feeling.

Why am I second-guessing this? she thinks, biting her lip as she reflects on everything that’s happened between her and Brendan.

At first, it all seemed effortless. There was chemistry, an undeniable pull that had brought them together so naturally. He was charming, funny, and caring when he wanted to be. But then there were the moments that gave her pause—the moments where he would vanish, or leave without a word, like last night. And the times he’d get distant or act like he was keeping a part of himself hidden. She had always told herself that she didn’t need to be the one to ask for explanations, but now she’s beginning to question if that was the right approach.

Is this just a whirlwind romance, or am I setting myself up for something deeper? she wonders. She feels a tension between what she knows—how much she cares for him—and the uncertainties that keep cropping up. She remembers how she told herself she wouldn’t let someone into her heart so easily again after her past. But with Brendan, it felt different. Or maybe it’s the fear of it not being different enough.

Am I falling for someone who isn’t ready to commit, or am I just overthinking things? The doubts cling to her thoughts like a fog, heavy and lingering.

Her phone buzzes in her lap, snapping her out of her reverie. It’s a text from Brendan.

"Miss you already. Can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ll make it up to you, I promise."

She stares at the message, her heart fluttering a bit at his words. Yet the feeling of uncertainty remains. Does he really mean it? Or is this just another fleeting moment in the rollercoaster of their relationship?

Amari sighs and drops the phone on the couch beside her, leaning back with her hand still wrapped around the necklace.

She wishes she could just have clarity. A sense of what’s real and what’s fleeting. The trust they shared feels genuine, but the insecurity in the pit of her stomach is hard to ignore.

When Brendan walks through the door that evening, Amari is still sitting on the couch, lost in her thoughts. The sound of his keys hitting the counter draws her attention, and before she can fully process it, he’s already crossing the room toward her.

He pulls her up from the couch and wraps his arms tightly around her, enveloping her in his warmth. His chin rests gently on her head, and she feels the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath.

"I missed you," he murmurs softly into her hair, his voice steady and reassuring.

For a moment, Amari lets herself melt into his embrace. The doubts and questions swirling in her mind feel smaller when she’s in his arms. His hug is grounding, like an anchor holding her steady against the tide of her own thoughts.

"You okay, Mari?" he asks, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. His hazel gaze searches her face, concern etched into his features.

She nods but doesn’t say anything, afraid her voice might betray the mix of emotions she’s feeling. Brendan tilts his head, clearly not convinced.

"You’ve been quiet all day," he says, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "Talk to me. What’s on your mind?"

Amari hesitates, biting her lip as she considers whether now is the right time to bring up her feelings. But the tenderness in his eyes gives her a small push of courage.

"I just..." she starts, her voice soft. "I’ve been thinking about us. About where this is going."

Brendan frowns slightly, his hands still resting on her waist. "What do you mean? Did I do something to make you doubt how I feel about you?"

"It’s not just about you," she says quickly, shaking her head. "It’s me, too. I’m trying to figure out if I’m... ready for all of this. For us. Sometimes it feels like we’re moving so fast, and I’m scared I might get hurt."

Brendan’s expression softens, and he pulls her back into his arms, holding her even tighter this time. "Mari," he says, his voice steady but full of emotion. "You’re my girl. I don’t want you to feel like you have to question that. I know I’m not perfect, and yeah, this might be moving fast, but I don’t take what we have lightly. You’re not just someone to me. You’re everything."

His words hit her like a wave, washing over her doubts and leaving her feeling raw but reassured. She exhales deeply, letting herself sink into him again.

"I don’t want to lose you," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You won’t," Brendan says firmly. "I’m not going anywhere, Mari. We’ll figure this out together. One step at a time."

In that moment, wrapped in his arms, she decides to trust him. To trust them. Maybe it’s not all clear right now, but it doesn’t have to be. She just has to take it one step at a time, like he said.

Brendan pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on Amari's waist as he locks eyes with her. His tone is firm but gentle, grounding her in the moment.

"Amari," he says, his hazel eyes steady and unwavering. "We discussed this. I’m your boyfriend. You’re my girlfriend. That hasn’t changed. It won’t change."

She opens her mouth to respond but finds herself at a loss for words. The certainty in his voice, the way he says it like it’s the most obvious truth in the world, makes her chest tighten.

"I know," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "It’s just..."

"It’s just what?" he presses softly, tilting his head as he studies her. "Tell me, baby. Don’t hold back."

Amari sighs, running a hand through her curls. "Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for you. Your life is... big, B. You’re everywhere. Everyone knows you. And me? I’m just..."

"You’re just the woman I want," he interrupts firmly, cupping her face in his hands. "I don’t care about the rest. All of that—my career, the fame, the noise—it’s nothing if I don’t have you to come home to."

Her breath hitches, and she searches his face for any sign of doubt, but there’s none. Just honesty.

"You’re more than enough, Mari," he continues. "You’ve always been enough. And if you’re ever feeling like this again, you tell me, alright? I don’t want you sitting in your head overthinking. We’re in this together."

Amari swallows hard, nodding as her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. "Okay," she whispers.

"Good," Brendan says, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "Because you’re stuck with me now. No take-backs."

That earns a soft laugh from her, and she leans into him, resting her forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around her again, holding her close, and for the first time in days, she feels the weight in her chest begin to lift.

Brendan's voice drops to a low, teasing murmur as his lips trail along the curve of Amari's neck. "Now," he begins, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine, "I have a way of enjoying you while we’re here."

Amari tilts her head slightly, giving him more access as her hands rest on his chest. "Oh, really?" she asks, her voice soft but laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

His lips curve into a smirk against her skin before he presses a series of slow, deliberate kisses along her collarbone. "Mhm," he hums. "No distractions, no interruptions—just you and me."

Amari’s fingers trail up to his shoulders, her heart pounding at the intensity in his voice. "And what exactly does that mean, Mr. Superstar?" she teases, though her breath hitches as he continues his exploration.

Brendan pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, his hazel eyes darkening with intent. "It means I want to focus on you, Mari. No cameras, no schedules, no outside noise. Just us, in this moment."

Her cheeks flush at the sincerity in his tone, and she bites her lip to suppress a smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

He chuckles, his hands sliding down to her waist as he pulls her closer. "Then let me show you," he whispers, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s slow, deep, and filled with all the promises he doesn’t need words to express.

-

Amari stirs under the covers, her body still warm and buzzing from the hours spent with Brendan. She glances over at him, sprawled out beside her, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A faint smile plays on her lips as she takes in his peaceful expression.

Then, the sharp buzz of his phone cuts through the quiet. Amari sighs, her muscles sore but satisfied, as she reaches over to the nightstand. "B," she murmurs softly, nudging his arm.

He groans in response, eyes barely cracking open. "What is it, baby?" he mumbles, voice rough from sleep.

"Your phone's going off," she says, holding it out to him. "Might be important."

Brendan takes the phone, squinting at the screen. His brows furrow as he reads the message, and he sits up slightly, running a hand through his hair.

"Everything okay?" Amari asks, her tone laced with curiosity and a touch of concern.

He sighs, placing the phone back on the nightstand. "Just my manager," he says, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Nothing that can’t wait till morning."

Amari relaxes, her smile returning. "Good," she whispers, pulling him back down beside her. "Because I wasn’t done cuddling you yet."

Brendan chuckles, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "You’re gonna ruin me, Mari," he says with a soft laugh.

"Guess we’re even then," she quips, burying her face in his chest.

Amari hears her phone buzz on the night stand. She opens her phone. And she sees she’s been tagged in a photo by Brendan. Coming from his stage page. It’s a picture of her on his bare chest sleep.

Amari’s heart skips a beat as she unlocks her phone and opens the notification. There it is—a photo Brendan posted from his official stage account. In the picture, she’s peacefully asleep, her head resting on his bare chest, the soft lighting in the room casting a serene glow over the intimate moment.

The caption reads: "My peace. My girl. 🖤 #NoQuestions"

Her eyes widen, and a mix of emotions floods her—surprise, embarrassment, and a strange, undeniable warmth. Brendan is private, especially when it comes to his personal life. For him to post something so intimate on his public page felt... monumental.

Amari’s cheeks flush as she glances at Brendan, who’s now propped up on his elbow, watching her reaction with a sly grin.

"You posted that?" she asks, holding the phone up.

"Yeah," he says nonchalantly, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "What? I can’t let the world know I got the baddest girl out there?"

She shakes her head, biting her lip to suppress a smile. "B... you know your fans are going to have a field day with this, right?"

He leans closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Let them. I want everyone to know who I come home to."

Amari sighs, leaning into his touch. "You’re really trying to make me fall even harder for you, huh?"

"That’s the plan," he says with a wink, pulling her into a kiss.

She was scrolling through the pictures. She stopped on the last one. Curious, Amari scrolls back to the last photo and reads the caption Brendan had posted beneath it:

"When she’s your peace and your muse all in one. #MyQueen #NoQuestions #AmariAndB"

Her lips part slightly as she rereads the words, her heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t just the pictures—he had put her at the center of his world, publicly claiming her in a way that left no room for doubt.

She glances over at Brendan, who’s lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone as if he hadn’t just sent the internet into a frenzy.

"B," she starts softly, catching his attention. "This caption..."

He looks up, his hazel eyes meeting hers with a calm intensity. "What about it?"

"It’s... a lot," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’re really putting us out there like this."

Brendan sets his phone down and shifts to face her fully. "Amari, I don’t do anything halfway. You’re it for me. If the world knows it, then good. I’m not about to hide how I feel about you."

Her eyes soften as she takes in his sincerity. "You’re sure about this?"

He cups her face, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "More sure than I’ve ever been about anything. You’re my peace, Mari. And I want everyone to know it."

She exhales deeply, her chest swelling with emotion. "You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?"

Brendan chuckles, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Only because you are."

She smiles, resting her forehead against his. "Alright, fine. But if this blows up, you’re the one answering all the comments."

"Deal," he says with a smirk. "As long as I get to keep posting you."

Amari shakes her head with a laugh, knowing she’s already lost this battle. "You’re impossible, B."

"And you love it," he counters, pulling her into his arms.

She lets herself melt into him, silently admitting he’s right.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout

[shazzbaa]

Asking the FLoc crayon [neon carrot] bc someone has to.

neon carrot: if you could give them any npc as a spouse, who would it be and why?

THIS IS SUCH A HARD QUESTION.

To address the obvious answer given recent activities: no i dont think he should marry Feducci, but he… might, if given the chance. The man CANONICALLY sent Sam 12 cellars of wine with a note reading "TO PASSIONS UNMATCHED" i dont think anyone can blame him for feeling like they had something special!!!! Feducci seems like he could make him very satisfied intimacy-wise but would also almost certainly Make Him Worse.

Samuel's constant difficulty with Marriage is that he isn't really… romantic in the traditional sense. HE HAS A LOT OF PHYSICAL DESIRE but romance rarely does anything for him outside of stories, and he gets antsy whenever he's locked in to a particular life plan. HOWEVER: he is usually too Catholic(TM) to really embrace a no-strings-attached lifestyle, and his tastes are well outside the typical Veilgarden hookup anyway (one of his most sensual experiences was getting murdered by an actual literal lance through the gut, so…). The real reason he bought multiple viric dreams of the Bishop of Southwark was that he was trying SO hard to Want Marriage, but even with someone so physically intense and driven, that dream of settling down for life isn't what he really wants; he just wants the part where they're wrestling by the fire.

The other complication is that he has finally found partners he can be happily intimate with: Peter and Jack (@little-red-notebook and @reliably-derogaffectionate's characters, respectively), to whom he is essentially a friend with benefits. He was best man at their wedding somewhat wistfully, but since they've both assured him that they still want him involved in their relationship, it feels very easy to be with them; a closeness he wants without the expectations that come with being a Spouse. It's still, you know, making love outside of marriage, but Samuel has never been good at avoiding that, and at least here he knows he's not leading anyone on or cheating on anyone.

An Ideal Marriage for Sam would involve some amount of polyamory to give him room for these inevitable, ah, extracurricular activities, someone that doesn't tie him down, ideally someone he can do physically dangerous things with and, importantly, have sex (these two activities can be combined). But I also think in an ideal world he would have someone who respects his own principles and doesn't try to smother his hope for compassion with duty, which feels like the big sticking point for a lot of the aggressive characters (like Southwark and Feducci) that Sam's attracted to.

I don't remember well enough to say how many of these points she hits, but I keep thinking of the Zubmariner from the Sunken River ES, as someone no-nonsense in a way Sam really respected and found attractive, but who also has people she cares about. She might be too cool to fall for this soggy loser, though, and the chances of her turning out to be a lesbian seem high. (Also Sam left her behind…. that's a choice he regrets, and I kinda wanna replay that story at some point, with the idea of him actually trying to go back for her). But in general, the idea of Samuel marrying a principled pirate where they both know their first love will always be the zee feels like something that could turn out to be a genuinely happy partnership for him. BUT WHO KNOWS maybe in a year I'll come back with a totally different answer I never saw coming.