#but i dont want to open the file again to fix him

[dromaeo-sauridae]

@fly-sky-high-09 considering he doesnt know how to shoot a bow properly at the beginning at the game i cant imagine hed be the most receptive student lol

[thelov3lybookworm]

Love's Bullshit.

Summary: maybe love wasnt bullshit after all.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 5225

Warnings: a tinyyy tiny bit of angst, pining, unrequited feeling but requited in the end, sad rhysie poo healing but we dont really get into that. uh i think thats it? let me knowif theres more i need to add <3

A/n: let me tell yall, when i wrote this i think i had watched some pasta videos and helped my mum clean up some green veggies lmaoo, so Y/n's thoughts are just me yapping lol.

rhys would be happy i finally wrote something fluffy for him lmao

I LOVED WRITING TIS SM OML I HOPE YALL LOVE READING IT AKFJHDFH

(im sorry im back to my p.s bs again cus thank you to my wifey for, again, helping me plan this fic out and also this fic is again based on an indian song 😭)

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It had almost become a ritual, standing around the coffee machine and waiting to grab the two cups of coffee.

It was a ritual, stalking back to the office with two cups of steaming coffee in her hand.

It was a ritual, trying her best not to blush when her boss smiled at her, his fingers brushing hers as he took his black coffee from her hands, a soft thank you slipping past his lips, his attention already focused on the screen of his laptop.

Y/n did not know how she hadn’t yet told him she loved him, but whatever force held those words captive in her chest, she thanked it every day.

Today was no different as she made her way into the elevator, nodding to the others who filed in after her with a small smile. Silence filled her ears, only broken by the ding of the elevator doors as it opened to let a couple of employees out onto the second floor. Y/n leaned back, sighing as the doors dragged close again, her head resting against the shiny metal as her eyes fixed themselves on the little panel above the door.

5.

7.

10.

13.

15.

25.

Ding.

Y/n walked out, subconsciously searching for that familiar figure of her boss. The final floor of the building had been turned into a huge office for the CEO and the owner and his two best friends who helped manage the place, so it was not hard to find him, standing hunched over the huge mahogany desk as he scribbled something in a file.

She moved forward, lips stretching to accommodate the smile that spread on her lips without permission.

"Good evening, sir."

His head rose, the black rimmed glasses perched on his nose caching in the light. "Good evening, Y/n." His violet eyes tracked her movements, an easy smile on that full mouth.

He turned around the moment she set his coffee on his desk, attention already flitting away to focus on more important things.

It irritated Y/n to no end that he would not even try to talk to her- or anyone, really- unless it was related to work.

"Uh, have a good day, sir."

He nodded, and Y/n took that as her que to leave. She walked towards the desk that Y/n occupied. Being the CEO’s secretary, he wanted her close by in case he needed anything. Thankfully, the two managers were too busy with their own work to look at the blush that covered Y/n.

Time flew by as she settled down again, forcing herself to stop thinking about how those eyes would shine from up close, and started typing away in her laptop, her surroundings fading into nothing.

The next time Y/n stood to stretch her back, it was already dark outside the huge glass walls, and she leaned back, her back curving before it finally popped. The other two men that worked on the top floor, Cassian and Azriel, had already left half an hour ago, after bidding Y/n and Rhysand goodbye.

Relieved breath escaping her lips, she turned to find herself alone with Rhysand, who now sat with his back straight. So straight that Y/n was concerned that it would hurt him.

Something was wrong.

Before she could inquire, the elevator doors slid open, and the loud clicking of stilettos filled the silent atmosphere.

She’s beautiful.

That was Y/n’s first thought.

Long, straight light brown hair, almost bordering blond, the woman stalked straight up to the rich dark wooden desk, ire blazing in her eyes, anger seeping from every pore in her body.

Y/n should have left, she knew she should have.

But she didn’t, even knowing she would regret not leaving when everything seemed fine.

Rhys, eyes wide, stumbled to his feet.

Y/n had never seen that man ever stumble.

"Did I not tell you to stay away from me?"

His mouth parted, and Y/n watched with bated breath to see what would happen.

"Hello to you too, Feyre d-"

"Call off your stalker."

Fingers of ice skated down Y/n’s spine. Stalker?

His eyes hardened, jaw clenched. "He isn’t a stalker."

The woman let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh? Then what is he?"

"He’s there to protect you-"

"And what is he protecting me from? The trees in my backyard?"

Y/n swallowed, eyes flitting away. The elevator was near her, but it would draw attention. But it was definitely better than standing and watching the two like a creep.

"Feyre…" It was dark, but Y/n knew that Rhys glanced at her frozen form. "Let’s talk somewhere else, please. You’re making a scene-"

"No. I’m not going anywhere with you."

He released a frustrated breath, and Y/n finally got herself moving.

She grabbed her purse and hurried towards the elevator, hoping he did not think that she was judging him. Even as hard as she tried to be quiet, her heels clicked, and she froze, panic seizing every muscle in her body as she felt his eyes on her.

Swallowing, she hit the button on the silver panel, and the doors slid open, thankfully revealing that the elevator was still on their floor. As soon as she walked in, she hit the button to close the doors continuously, then pressed the button to the ground floor.

Idly she watched herself in the glass in the back of the elevator, her eyes travelling over her own figure.

Hmm. Pretty, but not as much as that lady.

It was clear that Rhys and she had something together. If not now, then before. And with the way Rhysand’s eyes had lit up with love but also sadness, she knew it was romantic.

Eh. Never really stood a chance anyway.

The elevator finally stopped moving, and Y/n walked out to greet a few lingering employees, who smiled and nodded at her. She smiled too, her mind already wandering to what she would eat for dinner. Maybe she could just get takeout-

She couldn’t.

Ugh.

She groaned as she remembered that her car had broken down the day before, and she’d had it towed to a mechanic shop, who had taken one look at the old, run down vehicle and said it would take them at the very least one week to fix.

Uber it is.

As she walked towards the exit, Y/n shoved her hand into her purse to grab her phone, but everything that came into her hand was not in the shape of that specific piece of rectangle.

Please. I don’t want to go up there again.

Pausing a few feet away from the automatic sliding doors, she peered into the little black purse, and sure enough, she could not see her phone.

Great. Just what I needed.

It didn’t have to be a big deal, Y/n told herself. She would just run up through the stairs, quietly grab her phone and leave.

Sure, you’ve got the energy and bones to run up twenty five floors.

Maybe she could just ask someone else to order a cab for her and she could just take her phone tomorrow-

It was Saturday tomorrow. No office.

Sighing, Y/n turned back, only to find the elevator doors opening and the same clicking of stilettos that had heralded the arrival of that pretty lady. And sure enough, when Y/n looked up from her purse while still cursing her own existence, the woman was walking towards her.

Y/n watched in awe as she stalked past her and out the automatic doors without sparing the countless onlookers a single glance, as if they all were a mere insect and she the god.

If Y/n was being honest, she envied her confidence while also respecting her for it. Y/n could only wish she was that good at being self assured to not trip and faceplant in front of everyone.

Y/n watched till the lady got into the back of a shiny white Audi and drove away, and only then did Y/n remember why she was still in the building.

She hurried into the elevator, her impatience mounting everytime it stopped on different floors for people to get on and off, but by the time she reached the top floor, she was all alone in that metal box. Her heart beating in her throat, she tried to walk as quietly to her desk as she could and snatched off the little device that lay beside her office laptop.

"Y/n?"

She had just turned around to sneak back to the elevator, trying not to look at the silhouette of her boss who stood gazing outside the floor to ceiling glass windows when he called. The low timbre of his voice made her freeze midstep, then glance at him as she brought her lifted leg to rest next to her other one.

"Yes, sir?"

He said nothing for a moment, and Y/n looked around, unsure of what to do. Just as her eyes came to rest on the elevator, it left to go down.

Y/n eyed the metal doors with disappointment when Rhysand asked her to come stand next to him.

She obeyed quietly, the only sound in the silent office that of her of her heels clicking on the marble floors.

He remained quiet when she stopped next to him, his dark blue eyes that bordered on looking like violet under a certain angle of light fixed on the glittering city beneath. Y/n too turned to gaze out of the huge windows when he refused to let his attention move.

It was beautiful, the city. Tall buildings lit up with lights on the inside, their glass reflecting light coming off of large billboards, the red and white lights from cars speeding by blurring together in a beautiful scenery of night, complemented by the full moon that hung amidst a sea of stars.

"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?"

Y/n blinked, coming out of her reverie and taking note of her surroundings again before replying. "Yeah, it is."

He sighed after a moment, glancing at her. "Have you ever been in love, Y/n? Do you believe in it?"

Y/n glanced at him, taken aback by his question.

"I- I guess so. I am currently in love, if it matters."

He nodded, his lips tilted up slightly at the corners.

"Does he know?"

"He… no. And I don’t think I will tell him." A pause, then- "what about you? Do you believe in it?"

"No. Not anymore. It’s bullshit and all it does is hurt people."

"Oh…" Y/n mumbled, not knowing how to respond to that.

He glanced at her uncertainly, then dropped the topic.

"You must have questions."

Y/n met his eyes that glittered like sapphires in the darkened office, then shook her head. "I don’t think I should have questions, and even if I did, I won’t ask them. You have a right to keep your private life private."

He nodded, his eyes unwavering. Y/n could not for the life of her figure out what he was thinking, so instead she focused on her own faint reflection on his black rimmed glasses.

Is there something in my teeth?

He took in a deep breath, looking away.

Nah, there’s nothing. Thank god.

"What did you come back for?"

Y/n blinked, then perked up. "Oh, my phone." She lifted the thing and waved it. "I thought I’d leave it and collect it on Monday, but then I had to order a cab, so-"

"Cab? Why? What happened to your car?"

"Ah, it broke down yesterday. It’s at the mechanic’s. It will take at the very least a week to get fixed, so." She shrugged.

"Well, if that’s the case, let me drop you off."

Y/n’s eyes widened, and she shook her head as if trying to dislodge his offer. "No, sir, please. I can go by myself-"

"Never said you couldn’t." he mumbled, a hint of a smile on his face as he began collecting his phone and keys from the drawer under his desk, rummaging around for whatever it was he needed before straightening.

"Sir-"

"Come."

With that, he began stalking to the elevator, leaving Y/n no choice but to hurry after him.

He ignored all her protests and didn’t even let her get off on the ground floor when she decided that she was going to get a cab nonetheless, and grabbed her hand to force her to stay still.

Of course, the moment his skin touched hers, she froze and then quietly followed him to his black Mercedes in the underground parking.

The ride to her home was mostly silent, the quiet only broken by his deep voice asking for directions and her mumbling when to turn.

If Y/n was being honest, she did not know what to do with herself. She was in a car with her boss who she was in love with, the one who she’d just witnessed get accused of stalking his lover- ex?- and then he was ready to answer her questions about his private life and-

She knew her mind was going into overdrive.

Calm down. He'd think I’m a weirdo.

And him thinking she was a weirdo will just not do-

He probably already thinks I am a weirdo.

Y/n sighed quietly, then told him to stop under the apartment her parents had left her. It was one of the finer things in her life.

"Thank you for dropping me off sir, you really didn’t have to do that." With that and a word of goodbye from Rhysand, Y/n turned to step out of the luxurious vehicle, then stopped.

She did not have time to debate whether offering him to follow her would be a good idea because the damning words were already spilling out of her lips.

"Would you like to stay for dinner sir? Let me cook you something as a thank you."

He smiled, then nodded and asked her where he could park. She directed him to her usual parking spot because her car was not occupying the space.

She cooked her special pasta that night. It was something that her friends always begged her to make whenever they were over and it was also very easy and quick to throw together.

The two of them made friendly conversation throughout the time he stayed over, with the night ending with Rhys asking her to be a part of their friend group that included him, Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand’s cousin.

As surprising as it was, Y/n shyly agreed, considering she hated socialising as much as she hated mushy vegetables.

"Perfect." Rhysand grinned as he stood at the door, ready to leave. "I’ll text you the address for the dinner next week. I can’t wait for you to  be a part of us."

With that, he left Y/n to herself and her thoughts.

That night, she fell asleep thinking about Rhysand.

She knew she could never have him romantically, and that was okay.

As long as she became friends with him, it was all that mattered.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n stood, watching the horizon twinkle with golden lights and hints of colour, their reflection in the river between hypnotising.

In the past months, Y/n had gotten closer to Rhys and his friends. They almost were the family she never had, the sibling-like bond they shared cherished beyond expectations.

Somewhere along the two months, Y/n had stopped focusing too much on how much she wanted to be with Rhysand, and yet, she knew she began to fall for him even more than she already had. Worse still, she now had more time to focus on all his little habits and quirks now that she hung out with him outside of office hours.

"Y/n. I think you need to get over whoever that asshole is, you know."

Y/n blinked, turning to face Rhys as he came to stand against the railing next to her.

"What?"

"You know, it’s been a long time since you told me about him. And if you’re still not dating, then I think you need to either tell him or forget him."

Y/n sighed. "It’s not that I don’t want to tell him. I know he would never love me back."

He nodded solemnly. "You said it yourself then. He would never love you. You might as well find someone new to love."

When Y/n rolled her eyes and turned back to stare into the dark waters, he tried again. "At least tell me who this love interest of yours is. Maybe I can knock some sense into him- or her, if you’re into that. I’m tired of seeing you be painfully single."

Y/n shook her head with a rueful smile, wondering what his reaction would be if she actually told him who this ‘love interest’ was.

Since Rhys had asked Y/n to be a part of the friend group, he had managed to get out a confession from Y/n about this ‘mysterious daddy of yours’. His own words, not hers.

He would try to find out who this guy was, he was adamant even, but every time Y/n would manage to escape without revealing who she was head over heels for. She had a relationship with Rhysand that was very precious to her, and she was not interested in jeopardising that.

It was better to just go on a date if it meant he would stop trying to get her to confess.

"Alright. I’ll go on a date."

Y/n could see him perk up. "Really? Let’s find you a guy. It will be so fun."

Y/n offered him a smile before he slipped away, then let the smile drop.

Having grown up without a real friend due to her social anxiety, Y/n cherished the friendship she and Rhys shared.

Initially, she had thought that becoming friends with him would be the best thing to ever happen to her. And it was, but it was also one of the most hurtful things she had gone through.

Being able to talk to him whenever she wanted to, being able to do everything she had ever wanted to do with him, yet not being able to love him the way she truly wanted was a curse in itself.

Sighing, Y/n told herself to stop thinking too much and walked away.

The next two days went by uneventfully, but then the third day, of course, Rhysand had to disrupt Y/n’s peace as she tapped away on her laptop, Cassian hot on his heels.

Those grins on their faces never meant good.

She raised a brow at them, eyeing Cass as he climbed on her table and settled down, pushing away the files in his way.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, actually." Cass giggled before a word could escape Rhys’s mouth. Rhysand brows rose. "What do you think I should do for Nesta on her birthday?"

Y/n blinked, then leaned back in her seat, scratching her head. "Hmm. She likes to read, right? There’s a new book store that opened recently, it's very big and beautiful. She would love to go there. Make a day out of it. Take her there, then maybe a coffee date and movies-"

Rhys cleared his throat with a pointed glare at a very serious Cassian, who nodded at every word out of Y/n’s mouth and pulled out his phone to note down what to do. "We were here for another thing. Remember?"

Cassia grinned sheepishly and nodded, putting away his phone.

Rhys turned back to Y/n then. "You know, I recently got in contact with an old acquaintance from college." Y/n waited for him to drop the bomb on her, because there was no way he looked so serious just because he wanted to tell her that.

"I set you up on a date with him."

Y/n was rendered speechless. She did not know what to do, what to think. It was like even her mind had stopped working.

Just amazing. This is perfect. The man I love is acting like a wingman. What more could I have asked for?

When she remained silent, Cass and Rhys exchanged an uncertain glance.

"Uh, he’s well off, he’s good looking. He drives a BMW I believe, and-"

"Hmm. Just let me know the time and address."

Rhys blinked at Y/n, surely taken aback by the lack of emotion in her monotone voice. "I- okay yeah but-"

Just then, her phone rang. It was the receptionist. Y/n smiled, thanking every being she could think of for this distraction. She had plans of lunch with the girl who was like a friend too, and so it gave her the perfect escape.

But as she excused herself and all three friends went their separate ways, she could not help but feel someone's gaze on her. And sure enough, as she turned after entering the elevator, she found Rhys studying her, his gaze intense as it met hers.

But the eye contact was cut short as the doors slid closed, and Y/n sighed, blinking away the prickling in her eyes.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

She did not want to get dressed, but she also did want Rhys to stop bothering her about her love life, and so she had pulled out her favourite dress from the back of her closet and put it on after taking a shower.

She had just finished putting on some mascara and blush when the doorbell rang, and Y/n paused, staring at herself for a moment before deeming that enough makeup and standing, making her way out of her room. Surprisingly, at her door stood a grinning Rhys.

Y/n was taken aback. He hadn’t informed her of his arrival.

"Hey Rhys, what are you doing here?"

"Why? Are you not happy to see me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, turning away to go to the kitchen, leaving him to close the door.

She grabbed a glass and filled it with water, then handed it to him when he followed her into the kitchen. She then turned and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms across her chest.

"So. What brings you here?"

He put away the glass after drinking half of the liquid inside, raising his eyebrows playfully.

"What, I can’t come to see my friend without a reason?"

Y/n just watched him, not buying his lies. When he refused to speak more, she sighed. "Rhys, we both know I am not believing the shit you’re spewing right now, so just tell me why you’re here."

He exhaled, leaning his hip against the counter opposite Y/n. "I just wanted to check up on you. You didn’t seem too excited to go on this date."

Y/n unfolded her arms, looking away from his concerned gaze perusing her form. "How can I be happy about going on a date with someone who’s not the man I love?"

"Then tell me who he is Y/n, I could set you up on a date with him." Gone was the friendly warmth he usually talked to her with.

"I can’t Rhysand."

"Why not?!"

"I just- I just can’t, okay? And anyways, I’m trying to move on."

"Who is he?"

"Maybe today I will go meet that friend of yours-"

"Who is he?"

"-and fall in love and I’ll forget him-"

"Tell me who he is-"

"I can’t."

"Why not?"

"You want to know who he is that badly? It’s you, Rhys! It’s you."

His eyes widened, his lips parting as he stared at her. "You- what?"

Y/n refused to look away from him, cursing herself for shedding that one traitorous tear. But then she turned away. "I’m running late. He must be waiting for me."

With that, she walked out the door, ignoring his calls of her name.

Love really was bullshit. It just hurts people.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The two hours she spent with George- Greg? Gregory?- went by too fast. She did not even remember what he said. She could not stop thinking about Rhys and how she had confessed to him before coming to meet with the homo sapien in front of her.

He wanted to talk about himself, which Y/n did not mind one bit because she could not for the life of her listen. He was happy to yap and did not realise Y/n was zoned out the whole time he sang praises of himself, and was all too happy when Y/n paid for herself and then bid him goodbye, his eyes already fixed on a blonde across the restaurant.

Y/n did not want to go home yet, not knowing whether he left or not, so she decided to go sit at a beach near her home. It was empty at this time, most people either at home or out partying. It was a Saturday night after all.

Y/n felt like she had control over nothing. Since the day prior, all she could think of was how she wished she was prettier and had a chance to be with Rhys. She loved herself and her appearance, of course, but she could admit, she was nothing compared to that lady who had stormed into the office that day, telling Rhys to call off the stalker.

Y/n had never had any hope from the beginning. She had known that her feelings could not be anything but a crush, even if she wanted them to be more. Rhys was simply too good for her, and she was not above accepting that. She might have been delusional, but she wasn’t delusional enough to think he could ever return her feelings.

"I was waiting for you."

Y/n froze, suddenly aware of the sand grains between her toes, her heels discarded next to her, knees pulled up to her chest.

She did not respond, simply because she did not know how to. Now that she had been pulled out of her thoughts, she could hear him walking towards her, his steps cushioned by the shifting sand.

She decided to focus on the wind in her hair, on the soft, soothing melody of the water.

He settled down next to her, and she could not help but notice that he sat a little too close to be casual and friendly.

He said nothing for a long moment, and Y/n decided that in this moment, she could pretend to be his. She could pretend that he was hers and that they were madly in love. That he did not track her down here somehow and that the two of them were simply having a date night out.

"Her name is Feyre."

Y/n glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, unsure what he was talking about.

"She’s Nesta’s sister. That was how Nesta met Cassian, to be honest. She and I had been dating since we were in college."

It clicked for Y/n then, who he was talking about.

Tall, pretty, gorgeous hair and eyes. On top of that, a pretty name too? A jackpot, honestly.

As soon as that thought occurred to her, Y/n willed herself to stop thinking and just listen to the storytime by grandma Rhys.

Grandma Rhys??

All that was left was a rocking chair and some knitting needles and yarn.

He’d rock that fit too.

"She and Nesta… they grew up in conditions that were less than livable. Their father had lost his business and traumatised by the losses, he started staying home. Feyre had to work to keep the family going. She got to go to college because of scholarships."

Instantly, Y/n wished she could just give the lady a hug. But instead, she laid her head on her raised knees, turning her head to watch Rhys as he spoke.

"I had grown up in a filthy rich family, getting everything I wanted at my beck and call. Back then, I was smitten. Knowing what she had gone through, I wanted to provide for her. I took over my father’s businesses, began my own. Just so I could give her the lifestyle she deserved.

"While I was busy trying to get her to stop working… She wanted to provide for herself. It gave her a sense of independence, I understand that now. Having to depend on others before made her want to have freedom, and me trying to get her to stay at home made her feel suffocated. It led to a lot of arguments, more than was healthy. It upsetted me. I always wondered why she did not want to rule the empire I brought to her feet."

Y/n blinked, wondering what she would have done in that situation. Would she also have left Rhys?

"Eventually, she left me. Yet I could not bring myself to let go of her, always concerned about her safety for some reason. That’s when she came to the office, remember?"

Y/n did. A little too well.

But still, her heart hurt for him and her. She understood both sides, and she wished the two had just communicated better. Y/n knew they had loved each other a lot, it was clearly visible on their faces. At least on RHys’s. And from the way Rhys talked about her, Y/n could not help but like her too. She sounded like a nice person, someone deserving of someone as awesome as Rhys.

Even if that would have made Y/n’s chances of being with Rhys zero, she wished they had stayed and worked through their problems together.

He sighed, then turned his head to look at Y/n. "Do you know why I’m telling you this?"

Y/n shook her head, lifting it from her knees, trying to crack the tiny cramp.

He smiled. "I… while you were on that date, I sat and thought about it. Maybe it’s time for me to move on too. And now that I’ve acknowledged stuff I was too scared to before, I think I am ready."

His eyes held something so soft, so vulnerable as he gazed into Y/n’s eyes.

"Look, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete creep and like an asshole, but I’m hoping you won’t judge me, but it’s fine if you’ve changed your mind and-"

"Just say it Rhys." Y/n laughed, already feeling like she knew where this was going.

He sighed. "I… do you want to go on a date with me?"

Y/n grinned. Flustered Rhys was something to cherish. "Sure, why not."

He perked up. "Really?"

She nodded. "As long as you actually want this and I’m not a replacement for Feyre-"

"You’re not, I swear! I’ve been feeling different towards you for some time now, I promise-"

"I believe you."

He blinked. "Really?"

Y/n nodded, and he relaxed, resting his head on her shoulder.

"This was easier than I thought it would be."

Y/n giggled.

It really was easier than expected.

Maybe love wasn’t bullshit after all.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings

Rhysand Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover

[xxfrankiesteinksxx]

small details in the dnpc video no one is mentioning

okay, look, i'm gonna admit it, i'm a game/film theory girly and a whore for lore, so i pick at details i shouldn't be picking at, so here's some things i see in the video that i don't see being mentioned in theories/analyses. also keep in mind my brain consists of a single cell encapsulated in aspic (i know what the actual deeper meaning is this is just a bit of fun for me)

the thing underneath the piano - the camera falls off the piano in one scene and something (i still cant figure out what exactly it might be) is visible, oddly clear-looking for something underneath a broken piano in shoddy lighting (actually looking at it again it might be a corpse, is it possibly phil's old body?)

dan telling phil not to film him drawing the sigils but phil still filming - you might be able to also throw in the part where phil screams "NO" when the camera's on him sitting in the corner; they don't seem to want things to be filmed but it feels like they're obligated to record everything to some extent

phil's very explicit control over dan - this is to the point where he even has to tell dan what and what isn't food, and takes away water privileges for some reason (btw this is your reminder to drink some water) and overall very demanding tone when instructing him

SOFT AND NEAT - there's a lot of reinforcement of this, its clearly a joke but i'm overanalytical and will blatantly ignore this. there's heavy hesitation with any sharp object around them (when dan has to cut his hand, kill phil, take out phil's heart, mentioning razor blades when using the shaving foam)

dan still primarily uses his left hand - people have mentioned how he's been "fixed" but him using his right hand seems to be performative since he pours most things, mixes with his left hand, and even primarily uses his left hand to spread the blood (plus he never sacrificed himself unlike phil who seems to have died in potato stamps and been resurrected with perfect vision) there's also old superstitions that being left-handed means you're somehow cursed by/connected to satan, speaking of which...

dan has a much better connection and the ability to communicate directly with Him - he seems to be a conduit, possibly being used by phil to properly perform anything (which also probably helped with his resurrection and eyesight improvement), he has uncontrollable actions from time to time

the sigils themselves - what do they all mean? what could they mean in a bigger, symbolic context? anyone that understands them pls explain to my aspic brain

the entire place fucking burns down after the ritual is complete and they're embraced by Him - it's clear at least to me that the shed is set on fire at the end of the video, cutting off further possible footage

dan doesn't put blood on phil's forehead during the ritual - might've just been a slipup during filming but we also dont see the blood dan put on his own forehead once he arrives and theyre all standing up in the pentagram

also just a couple fun facts:

the number on the case file when converted to corresponding letters of the alphabet spell out "satan"

what dan says in his reversed clip is just "thanks!", nothing is really said in the reversed clip of phil opening the shed door its juts kinda a random noise someone made

Aaaaand some misc nonsense crackpot theories/ideas/thoughts/brain vomit that my brain keeps me awake at night with (optional reading):

if the demon taking them at the end is actually baphomet and not just some generalized idea of satan, then "mother" could be another way to refer to "him" since baphomet is portrayed as having both female and male characteristics (bobs n pennies)

personally this is scarier/more unnerving than the actual blair witch project for some reason

my bathroom sink is the one sink you cant ship

i want a dapc for those dolls they hung everywhere

is cataloguing all of the ritual setup part of the craft channel's purpose?

what was the reason for summoning him? did they bring him to our plane of existence to just let him absorb these two brink-of-twinks and then use their gay power to torment the straights?

oh that rope is just his belt thing not rope tying dip and pip together

i think this is a good wrap-up idk what they could do in a part 5 to conclude things better

[bbyquokka]

Just saw Han’s star nails and idk why but I can imagine him letting you paint his nails and he can’t help but coo at how concentrated you are and he’s just admiring how excited you are trying out a new design 🥺

lazy days and painted nails

FLUFF BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

warnings: gn reader, idol jisung, established relationship words: 0.5k ~ (587)

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“baby, it's time.” jisung looks up at you from his position on the bedroom floor. lay flat on his stomach in just a white vest and grey sweats pants with a manga in front of him.

it's stray kids comeback in a few weeks and jisung is taking this time to relax for a while before things start getting hectic again. he doesn't mind things being chaotic, he likes it, keeps him busy. but he hates being away from you so he wants to spend the free time he has now with you as much as possible.

“nails?” he asks as you sit down on a pillow in front of him. you nod as you put the nail polishes, file and clippers down.

“comeback is soon and i want to do your nails.”

“ok. be my guest baby.” jisung sits up, willingly giving you his right hand. you like painting his nails just as much as he likes watching you do his nails. it's like you're with him when he is away, in a weird yet beautiful way.

“what design are you thinking off?” he asks, watching you file his nails and get rid of the dead skin and cuticles.

“something to do with stars. was thinking stars on all your fingers because y'know, five star.” you giggle.

“clever. just like the album, i love it.” your cheeks turn a soft pink colour as you open the nail polishes. you start by painting his nails, careful not to flood his cuticles or get any on his skin.

jisung watches you, smiling to himself. he reaches out with his free hand to tuck your hair behind your ear gently, which causes the tips of your ears to turn red and heart to thump like crazy against your rib cage.

“you're so beautiful, yn.”

“shh. don't make me lose focus.” you mumble.

“i can't help but speak my mind when it comes to you.” you give jisung a simple “mhm”, a sign that you're half listening. you stick your tongue out in concentration, one of the many habits jisung loves about you.

“even now you're acting so cute. with your tongue sticking out and the way your cheeks are so pink because of me.”

“ji!!” you whine, sticking out your bottom lip as you mess up one of the points of the star. “now i have to start all over again.”

“don't” jisung stops you from grabbing the remover by grabbing your hand gently. he intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling you closer to him.

you stutter. your faces are getting dangerously closer and closer to each other.

he's so close. you can see the fine detail of his textured skin. the skin on his lips, the mole on his cheek. his long lashes and cute button nose.

“you don't want me to fix it up?” you whisper, as you close your eyes.

“no.”

“but why.” jisung pulls you onto his lap gently, holding your waist. his breath fans against your lips as he leans in, tilting his head to the side.

“because it shows that someone i love has done my nails. i don't want them to look perfect, i want people to know, to see that you did my nails. it feels like you're with me.”

you whimper softly as his lips press against yours in a gentle, sweet and delicate kiss. your lips move together in sync, creating a perfect rhythm that allows you both to get lost in.

“it's imperfectly perfect and i love that.”

note: anon, we must have the same mind because i too, also thought about painting his nails and just soft bf jisung. im so soft for him, more than usual and idk anymore. f u jisung /af

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @myprwttyhan ; @fairylouist ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[scho17]

Jalim DBH AU

Jason, a battle bot who's become just a little too conscious about what he's been told do - the woman with the groceries - he doesn't shoot - they flag him down as possibly faulty and then after that they're just looking for any reason to shoot Jason down into a junkyard. Maybe they send him on an op, practically a suicide run for anyone else and damnit its suicide for him too even if he don't completely realize it.

He gets damaged. Not no easy fix, not no little scratch he's - well fuck, he's busted. Some part of him in a near constant short circuit. Fried. It makes him forgetful of what he's done and why he's done it. They don't attenpt to fix him or his memory problem, they dont even wipe it out, they ain't got to. He won't be their problem much longer. They pop his back plate open and slip out his power core. They didn't even have the decency to tell him.

Jason gets discharged. Retired. However they wanna spin it but all the same they boot him to the curb.

They sell him as is. Auctioning him off and if Jason could understand what the hell he was feeling maybe he'd call it relief. Or maybe its betrayal. He doesn't really know yet.

Anyhow, he ends up on Salim's slab. Salim is a tinkerer of sorts, does repairs for a living and Jason seems intriguing. Military models are never really available for the public market and most are just destroyed or are too damaged to take on. Some wealthy folk like to keep fixed up ones as body guards and with any luck the model Salim's just bought will be a bang for his buck.

yada yada yada, that doesnt really happen. The second Jason comes online again with the help of a new power core its like waking from a nightmare and if he were anything alive his hackles would raise, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead and his breath would leave his chest heaving. But he isn't. All the same fight or flight gets activated. He's practically snarling like a wild dog, he's in a unfamiliar layout in a new place with what ought to be a graveyard of android parts.

and Salim really does his best to help - to explain. Which maybe this is weirder on his end cause 'good god this android is actually reacting and oh god am I going to die here? stupid auction'. it's kinda funny from an outside view and also kinda not.

Jason calms down enough and then boom 'nother short circuit. It makes him draw a blank. Forgets what happened in the past 5 to 15 minutes. Salim really didn't anticipate this. How could he? They go through the motions again, introductions, some part of Jason has realized that Salim isn't a threat, so at least this time they're meetings not as hostile.

Salim wants to understand Jason - he's some type of conscious and he's got his issues. they end up as some sorta flatmates. idk maybe we get a whole domestic Jason w memory issues arc. its kinda cute, really sad sometimes because he doesnt understand whats happening to him or why. Just that the very reason for his lifes purpose ain't in his grasp no more. He feels kind of pathetic somedays, becomes more of a homemaker than a soldier. Salim says it isn't bad. it's- it's not.

Maybe he picks up hobbies, starts reading, learning of the world he's missed out on. How the moral ideals of the masses clash with the values that were instilled in him. fucking cable TV. its kinda funny, kinda not.

Salim fixes him up. The memories come back in nightmares while he's booted down. Memory files drawn to the front of his mind all corrupted. It takes a long while for Jason to be alright. Salim worrys, notices him - of all things - stress baking. Jason talks about Nana Kolchek and her recipies and they both know she don't really exist. That it's part of the program they built into Jason to help him seem more human, more relatable to other soldiers. They don't talk about that aspect of it.

At some point Jason realizes Salim is going to sell him. Or at least intended to when he was bought at the auction. It hits him like a humvee going 80. Has a whole "was any of it ever real?" moment.

Jason has a little crisis and still somehow can't really unconvince himself that it won't happen. So he rips the bandaid off and flat out asks. Salim looks at him with that kind of expression people save for kicked puppies and the like. Some type of emotion in his eyes that Jason just doesn't know how to understand. It's too much. Jason looks away with a frown.

Salim pulls his hand into Jason's and squeezes once, cold metal against warm skin. Salim isn't selling Jason.

Heart to Heart.

Eventually Jason meets Zain. Zain looks at him quizzically, like he's just tryna wrap his head around something and he just dont quite get it. Zain says that his dad talks about him a lot, that he seems happier, less lonely, gives Jason the shovel talk. The works. Which Jason thinks is bizzare because he isn't even romantically involved with Salim.

and then he thinks,

thinks on it real hard and

oh,

oh.

He might be.

Right then and there, it dawns on Jason that, yes, they've been practically dating for a long while now. He cooks, cleans, asks Salim about his day, nags when he leaves his shoes crowded and piled in the door way, notes his likes and dislikes, holds him when he needs it, takes care of him and vice versa, they hook their legs together underneath the dinner table, they even do that looking into eachothers eyes lovingly thing and he just didn't realize thats what it was.

Zain is delighted with Jason's new found revelation. He helps Jason get flowers and chocolates, even gets a little card, it's real cute.

And Jason for as much as you'd think him as level headed really isn't too good at keeping a cool on it. He's flustered. Hands over the sweets, flowers and card like a kid with his first crush and shit, yeah, in a way yes, thats exactly what this is. a little bit. its kinda funny. kinda. There's even music on in the background because Jason just doesn't know how to miss.

They kiss. Salim tastes like chocolate.

[fandomxo00]

tis the damn season pt.4

so this song is after she talks about the trial beginning thinking it was an open shut case, she tells joe no to wanting to get married and she leaves him, things are no longer perfect and she even talks about how she doesn't like the way that he makes her feel in gold rush

i would like to mention the parallel to champagne problems how she talks about her friends moving on from the situation and how they deck the halls they we once walked through to this song about the cold holiday season, she talks about at the end of champagne problems about how even joe moves on from this

so she starts the song saying she doesn't want to know what he's been up to because its painful for her, so instead of her wanting him to move on she is now a bit more resentful

there's a coldness with contrasts with a song like daylight or the summer in lover, and now they are in the winter of their relationship??? ok wait wait

summer - lover and rep

winter - midnights, folklore, evermore? idfk im guessing

she mentions giving him this pain that she fills with, "theres an ache in you put their by the ache in me."

but she has no urge to fix this, "but if its all the same to you, its the same to me."

so maybe they arent in a relationship but they are still seeing each other, "so we could call it even," finally coming to common ground saying they both hurt each other so now its okay if he "you could call me babe for the weekend"

but shes not staying with him, she's staying with her parents and she is starting to regret her decision, "and the road not taken looks real good now." which can parallel to midnight rain when she talks about, "so i peer through a window, a deep portal time travel all the love we unravel, and the life i gave away." she even talks about mourning this in midnights---bigger than the whole sky could be about a lot of things but how i interpret it, is she is mourning about the life she didnt have because she made the decision to say no, but that life or the idea of that life meant a lot to her especially as she time to reflect from evermore to midnights

"you can run but only so far, i escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave" but then again she says, "but if its okay with you its okay with me." and i even want to say that maybe they were like hooking up again and reflecting on their past relationship, "and ill be yours for the weekend" when its not supposed to be that deep but if hes okay talking about all of this and doing this then i dont care because i get to be with him again after i messed up. i even wanna say that with the next verse she talks about how things were messy, time files, messy as the mud on your truck tires." because she missed him and wants him to hear her out, "now im missing your smile hear me our, we could just ride around." and she mentions again how the road not taken looks real good now---

"i wont ask you wait if you dont ask me to stay." saying he doesnt have to wait around for her to make up her mind if he doesnt want her around so shell move on with her life but the way she sings it is almost like that thought is bitter to her, "so ill go back to La and the so called friends who'll write books about me if i ever make it," and then sadly thinking about joe, "and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles im faking."

but then she does blame herself, "and the heart is know im breaking is my own," to leaving, "the warmest bed i'd ever know."

[crossbonescoffee]

Kinktober: trail of blood.

🏷️ trans man written by a trans man | d/s | humiliation, punishment | unfair punishment | bondage | knifeplay | whips | blood

content warning: in this story the submissive partner has a menstrual cycle and is punished for the mess it makes. it's implied the dominant partner set this up by giving the submissive painkillers to mask the start and purposely getting sheets to be ruined. i am a trans man. i do not condone humiliation, punishment, or disgust towards anyone who has a period. if you dont like, dont read.

The soldier is on his knees at the foot of the bed. his arms are secured above his head. a thick leather collar and a mockery of his mask is secured to him. The commander is lounging at the head of the bed, admiring the soldier's back. blood is staining the soldier's thighs, and occasionally another line slides down, joining the sticky red sheets below. the commander watches them fall like rain drops and sneers.

"we should get you fixed. maybe then you wouldn't make such a fucking mess..." he trails off at the sound of the soldier's whimpers. "oh shut up. you'd still be a bitch in heat. and maybe if you fucking remembered when this bullshit starts, you wouldn't have a fucking issue." the commander knows when it starts. there's new supplies in his desk. he wants to make the soldier suffer. the white sheets are new, but the soldier can't think hard enough to realize that.

Soldier woke up that morning in pain, tell-tale cramps squeezing his abdomen. there had been cramps the following week, but more dull. he doesn't think about the additional white pill his commander had been making him take the past week. he just whimpers and tries to find a new position to lay in. it works for a minute, until he hears the bedroom door open and his commander walk toward the bed.

"winter. you dirty fucking bitch. get your ass up." the commander's voice cuts through the fog of sleep. He glanced over at the commander and oh. he looks pissed. the soldier follows the gaze between his legs- fuck. the white sheets are a deep red. splotches of red that stock between his legs. he sits up, feeling the rough wet fabric of his boxers. tears form in his eyes and he whimpers, looking down at the mess he made. shame and humiliation wash over him. he feels the tears falling down his face and sobs building in his chest as his commanders walks closer.

that had been an hour ago. an hour since the commander slaps him until he cried and made him strip and kneel over the ruined sheets. the commander gets off the bed and stands in front of him. there's a dangerous glint in his eyes, and it's not rage.

the whip strikes the soldier's back until he bleeds, then again across the other shoulder, forming a nasty X. blood runs down his back in rivers, lines of crimson staining the pale skin. the commander leans in and licks up one of the lines, pointing his tongue as he follows the cut of the X. the solider is sobbing into the mask, shaking, but unable to ignore the wetness between his legs growing.

the leather collar is removed for a prong collar, the prongs filed into dull spikes digging into his neck, secured to the anal hook buried inside of him. he cant help but thrash, digging the spikes into his neck when the commander runs the blade of the knife over his chest, following the surgical scars under his pecs. over his ribs. down his stomach, the commander's eyes growing wider and his breath more ragged. even crying and dizzy with pain the soldier knows he's holding back ungodly comments. the knife cuts deep, shallow, long, short cuts, his hips are carved, the lines groing further down....

"there'd be a scar right here..." the commander drags thee knife lightly across where the soldier's uterus is. he's made enough comments about filling it up, making it good for something, enough that the soldier has moments of wondering if he would. the knife marks the spot with a jagged X.

blood is flowing down the soldier's stretched torso, dipping into the rivets of his abs, flowing acrosss his hips, a beautiful morbid dance of red. the commander licks the knife, then follows the red with his tongue, pressing it flat against the soldier's abs, his fingers digging into the cuts on his hips. the soldier is whimpering, dizzy with bloodloss, his head begining to spin. the commander admires his handiwork some more before slapping the poor man until he tries to focus is eyes. the equimptment is removed and he's pushed back onto the bed.

"clean this mess up." the commander calls before walking out.

something hits the soldier in his nose. a tampon falls onto the bed next to him.

[wazzappp]

A FEAST. A BANQUET BEFITTING A LORD. HOLY S H I T. who do I have to fight to get you more 4 day weekends dude I'll do it. I'll fucking do it. I wont hesitate betch.

/--Chris would probably dismember them both and cremate them in an oil drum. Heck, he could probably skip the cremation step and just leave their corpses in the house. No one would find them for years./

The whole Chris introduction is GREAT. Yeah no theres a healthy fear for the man who punches boulders into submission thats fair thats very fair. But also ROBBIE. HE. YOU CANT. YOU WONT GO DOWN IF YOU GET SHOT YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT??? the boy being oblivious is. my fucking favorite thing. And you write it SO well theres so many great little 'wink wink' moments in this it has me CHEWING MY FINGERNAILS OFF AAGGHHHHH. Deadpool breaks the fourth wall but you play tennis with it dude and that is SO impressive.

/Mr. Redfield seemed like he wanted to appear harmless. He generally arrived in a nondescript rental car, biceps straining the sleeves of his polo shirt, bearing some comics or Cholula hot sauce or something else he thought would endear him to them./

CHOLULA MY BELOVED peak hot sauce I fight and die on this hill >:] Ah yes, ridiculously ripped Chris is quite the important plot point. Dude is just built different. Built Ford Tough. Absolute UNIT of a man.

Robbie going into a full dissertation mentally about how bikes work and comparing them to cars was so fucking funny to me. Like yes my dude this is the most important thing to be thinking about at this very moment good job.

/“It’s big,” he remarked.

“The seat’s not hard to adjust.”

Crap. Mr. Redfield must think Robbie was complaining./

OH HE JUST LIKE ME. HE JUST LIKE ME FRFR.

/Robbie was already sprinting around the Tacoma, between the endless shrubs, down the rocky slope after Gabe, who was hurtling toward the ocean at ten, fifteen, twenty miles an hour—toward the ocean and the rough cliffs that led down to it./

Press X to doubt about the speed dude but also PANIK. Yeah no I could see how that would freak him tf out; no idea what your little brothers newfound capabilities limits are (I feel like I fucked up that grammar a little but whatever) and he just goes NYOOOOOOM.

/“Whoa, little dude, safety first,” Mr. Redfield called, waving the boxed helmet in one hand as he overtook Robbie without obvious effort. Maybe he was some kind of bioweapon./

FIRST OF ALL: DONT FUCKING TEMPT ME, IVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT. SECOND OF ALL: AHA. AHAHAHAHA. HAHAHAHAAAAA. pot calling the kettle black moment. THIRD OF ALL: llololol lmfao being made of fungus cant fix your poor cardiorespiratory health dude. Hop on a bike and get on that shit <33

/Robbie grasped desperately for some way to explain his panic besides, every time you show me something new you can do I get scared you’re possessed again./

OK O W YEAH THATS PRETTY. OW. FUCK. OK.

/“If you cracked your head open I’d be so sad I might die.” Then Gabe slumped and let Redfield tighten the chinstrap according to the diagrams./

If he cracked his head open it would probably fix itself in about a week but theres no need for him to know that yet :] also FJDKSLF:JKDSLJFKLDS THATS ONE WAY TO CONVINCE HIM LOL

Oh my GOD. The whole bit about Jack teaching him how to ride, Eveline treating him like a toy. AGH. Its so so very cool that he can ride a bike now but the CIRCUMSTANCES. REQUIRING 'DECONTAMINATION' HOOGHHHS. AAAAAAAAA. FUCK. Oh boy Robbies separation anxiety is about to be put through the fucking ringer isn't it. Congrats, he can now very quickly and easily leave not just your area of sight but your area of HEARING. The 'are you fucking kidding me' was well earned Chris XD

/Why was he acting shocked. He’d read their file. Foster kids couldn’t haul bikes from home to home. “Who was gonna teach me?”

“Me,” Redfield muttered. “Now. Apparently.”/

Don't make me emotional about them oh my god. oh my GOD. I gotta. Bonding session bike riding drawing time. Fuck. Come on Chris talk about teaching Claire how to ride a bike. Discussing your younger sibling with him would make leaps and bounds in your relationship. Hnnnggjdkflsa get cared for idiot. Get CARED FOR.

/“Is it a requirement?” Robbie checked.

“No, not like firearms training,” Redfield said, confirming one of Robbie’s previous suspicions and raising more questions at the same time. “But I figure you want to keep up with him.”/

Yayyyyyyyy being groomed into a weapon momenttttt just slightly more humanely I guess. At least he has Chris instead of Krauser lol.

Anyway, I need to turn your writing into soup so I can drown myself in it thank you

Ghost Rider/RE7 AU fanfic: Skills

Follows directly from this fic. Set in @wazzappp's Ghost Rider/RE7 fusion AU, during the period that Robbie and Gabe are living in an isolated BSAA-provided safe-house, watched by intelligence agents and also by Chris Redfield.

At least until the thing with Mia, Ethan Winters and Chris Redfield seemed to be friends, and Ethan seems to have looked up to Chris. I don't see this happening with Robbie. Not to say anything bad about Chris -- I'm not familiar enough with his character -- but his wiki page has his full career and this man has spent twenty years professionally shooting things. I just don't see Robbie getting that cozy with him, not without a long adjustment period.

Anyway, here Chris is being friendly. He's got a soft spot for orphans.

Mr. Redfield (like hell was Robbie going to call the private military contractor on whose word they had been extrajudicially deported to a Spanish-speaking country under false Mexican passports, and who had probably trained the guys who trained the guys who disappeared people for the cartels down south, “Chris”) showed up a couple times a month to supervise Robbie practicing with his illegal BSAA-issued firearms and make nice with Gabe. Gabe liked Chris. Robbie had to let them think he liked Chris, because if Chris ever decided that Robbie and Gabe were more trouble than they were worth, presumably as witnesses against Cutting-Edge Health Connections or whoever it actually was that had snatched Gabe up for his life-saving experimental “therapy,” then Chris would probably dismember them both and cremate them in an oil drum. Heck, he could probably skip the cremation step and just leave their corpses in the house. No one would find them for years.

Career-choice aside, Mr. Redfield seemed like he wanted to appear harmless. He generally arrived in a nondescript rental car, biceps straining the sleeves of his polo shirt, bearing some comics or Cholula hot sauce or something else he thought would endear him to them. Today, he trundled down the miles-long gravel drive to the house in a Toyota Tacoma. Robbie didn’t know they sold those in Spain. As he approached, Robbie spotted something mechanical and spindly in the truck bed, which resolved itself into a pair of bicycles.

“Got something for you two,” Mr. Redfield announced, getting out and lowering the tailgate. He vaulted into the bed, and motioned for Robbie to grab the bicycles as he handed them down. Robbie had to take a moment to identify a secure place to grip them; bicycles were about 80% moving parts. Robbie steadied them both awkwardly by the handles to keep them from toppling over, and Mr. Redfield jumped down with a large brightly printed box under each arm. “Casco para Bici de Montaña” and “Casco Juvenil para Bici,” the glossy boxes read. The price stickers were still in place; the helmets had each cost over fifty euros.

Mr. Redfield waved for Gabe to come over, and Gabe ran up and grabbed his helmet with both hands—“Is that for me? Do I have to give it back? Does Robbie get one?”—while Mr. Redfield used his foot to depress a metal brace near the bottom of the frames that allowed each bike to stand upright so Robbie could let go of them.

“They’re a little old-fashioned and I had to guess on the sizes,” Mr. Redfield apologized, gesturing to the bikes. “I figure they should be good enough to have some fun on, though.”

Robbie couldn’t guess what about these bikes was old-fashioned; the paint and seats had a few scrapes and there were stickers plastered to the frame of the smaller bike, but they both had actual shocks with springs and pistons and everything. Each handle had its own cluster of levers and cables. Robbie wasn’t stupid, he knew a bike was basically a big pair of gyroscopes that steadied you as they rotated and he could deduce that the levers and gears and chain served the same purpose as a manual transmission for whatever fraction of a horsepower a human’s legs produced, but understanding how one worked and actually operating one were very different. These weren’t the small one-speed bikes his peers back home might meander along the city sidewalks or pull wheelies on; these looked like the kind grinning sweaty white people rode down mountains on TV commercials for allergy medication. The saddle on the larger bike was taller than Robbie’s hip. If he tried to sit on it, neither of his feet would touch the ground. “It’s big,” he remarked.

“The seat’s not hard to adjust.”

Crap. Mr. Redfield must think Robbie was complaining. Robbie had no opinions about bicycles—no, maybe he did. Bikes were quiet, inexpensive to operate, difficult to conceal tracking devices on, simple to repair, and while they couldn’t compete with cars on the freeway, they were the next best thing for long-distance travel. And they didn’t require ID or registration. If the BSAA had meant to trap Robbie and Gabe in this off-grid house, maybe Mr. Redfield was offering them a plausibly deniable escape. Or maybe he was just irresponsible. That left only the major problem. “Gabe doesn’t know how to ride a bike.”

Mr. Redfield made as though to punch Robbie in the shoulder, and Robbie flinched before he could stop himself. Redfield completed the punch slower, lightly, the same way he insisted on manually adjusting Robbie’s posture when he supervised firearms practice, like he was doing Robbie some kind of favor by pushing his tactile boundaries. “Well, lucky he’s got you for a big bro, huh?”

“Uh, about that,” Robbie started, then froze when he heard a crumbly hiss of tires on sand, and a scream moving rapidly downhill. “¡Ay! Gabe!”

“Thought you said he didn’t know—” Mr. Redfield started, but Robbie was already sprinting around the Tacoma, between the endless shrubs, down the rocky slope after Gabe, who was hurtling toward the ocean at ten, fifteen, twenty miles an hour—toward the ocean and the rough cliffs that led down to it.

“Gabe! Stop!” Robbie stumbled on a loose rock and gasped for air. “Gabe!”

“Whoa, little dude, safety first,” Mr. Redfield called, waving the boxed helmet in one hand as he overtook Robbie without obvious effort. Maybe he was some kind of bioweapon. “Come on back here, let’s get this fitted.”

Gabe arrested his headlong course toward certain death by some kind of miracle, and turned his bike around a mere five hundred yards from the cliff. (It looked closer from Robbie’s perspective.) He stood up on the pedals to put his weight into climbing back up the hill, just like he’d had full use of his legs his entire life, before swinging down off the bike and walking the rest of the way, panting. Robbie wheezed and braced his hands on his knees when they reached each-other.

“Cliff,” Robbie managed. “Gabe. Don’t go down the cliff.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Gabe protested. “That’d be stupid.”

“I know, I know you’re not stupid. But.” Robbie grasped desperately for some way to explain his panic besides, every time you show me something new you can do I get scared you’re possessed again. “This ground is a bad surface for braking. You could skid and lose control at high speeds.”

“I want to try on my helmet,” Gabe said, passing his bike to Robbie as he jogged up to where Mr. Redfield was opening the box. Robbie watched closely as Redfield set the helmet on Gabe and stuck little strips of foam to the inner rim wherever Gabe said it chafed him. Gabe kept trying to loosen the chinstrap until Robbie admonished, “If you cracked your head open I’d be so sad I might die.” Then Gabe slumped and let Redfield tighten the chinstrap according to the diagrams. Redfield was following the English language instructions, but Robbie noticed that he’d had to turn to the middle of the guide pamphlet to find them. The front pages were all in Spanish.

“Thought he didn’t know how,” Mr. Redfield remarked, not bothering to lower his voice despite Gabe being right there.

“Uh,” Robbie said. He still knew almost nothing of what Gabe’s life had been like while the Connections had had him, but he doubted it had included many outdoor activities. Gabe was looking away, picking at a sticker on his bike’s handlebars. “He was...away...for a while.”

“Daddy Baker taught me,” Gabe explained. His voice was quiet. “He taught Evie first. Then me. She really liked it, she made me ride for her after she got too old.”

Robbie swallowed. “You, uh. Are you happy to have your own bike now?”

“Yeah.” Gabe was still absorbed peeling off the previous owner’s stickers, but Robbie watched Mr. Redfield watching his brother with a blank, analytical expression. “Evie was really sad she couldn’t play with her real body anymore. She was nicer when I let her play with me.”

Did Gabe mean play together or play with, like a toy? Hopefully Mr. Redfield would assume Gabe meant the first one, because the second option might have left traces that might require more aggressive decontamination. “I’m really proud of you for learning how to do this,” Robbie said, trying to change the subject. “But you gotta tell me before you go out riding, okay? And stay where I can see you. I don’t want you getting lost again.”

“I wasn’t lost, I was turned around,” Gabe protested.

Mr. Redfield laughed. “Great comeback. Okay, dude. To keep from getting turned around, you just look for your major landmarks. Right here, that’s the water, that’s always gonna be South. You climb up the nearest hill, and you look for either a downhill slope, a river, or the sea itself, and you can figure it out from there.”

“See?” Gabe said, raising one eyebrow at Robbie.

Are you fucking kidding me. Robbie glared helplessly at Mr. Redfield. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now you two can do some sight-seeing. Or,” he said, winking, “zip into town for groceries in an emergency.” What was that wink for. Was Redfield trying to warn and prepare Robbie for something, or just playing Friendly Paramilitary Babysitter? “Don’t act too excited, now.”

“Right, thanks,” Robbie said. “I, uh. I rode a motorcycle once. Bike can’t be that different?”

Redfield frowned. “You never rode a bike?”

Why was he acting shocked. He’d read their file. Foster kids couldn’t haul bikes from home to home. “Who was gonna teach me?”

“Me,” Redfield muttered. “Now. Apparently.”

“Is it a requirement?” Robbie checked.

“No, not like firearms training,” Redfield said, confirming one of Robbie’s previous suspicions and raising more questions at the same time. “But I figure you want to keep up with him.”

“Yeah.” Ahead of them, Gabe mounted his new bike again and squiggled back and forth up the hill toward the driveway. “Thanks.”

[darkthingshappen]

Baby Steps: A Brother's Keeper story

Things have been rough for Ben lately, so I thought he could use some future comfort. This is set a few weeks after his rescue and before his eventual recapture. Zoe is a new favorite character. She's just soooo good for my sweet Ben.

CW for alluded to past noncon, torture, and abuse

Tagging List: @i-can-even-burn-salad @peachy-panic @deluxewhump @arwenadreamer @whumpcereal @melancholy-in-the-morning @dont-touch-my-soup @whumpsday @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @oddsconvert @melennui @susiequaz12 @morning-star-whump @crystalquartzwhump @whump-and-other-things @mylifeisonthebookshelf @reflected-pain @hold-him-down @quietshae @sparrowsage (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I’ll fix it. I’m still getting used to this) 

Thanks again to the AMAZING @whumpcereal for being the BEST BETA IN THE WORLD!!!!!

Zoe stood looking in on Ben.  Like so many days that she had come to visit him since he came home, he was curled up in bed, staring at nothing.  He wasn’t literally catatonic, but he couldn’t engage.  It had only been a few weeks since he’d come home and she knew the basics of what had happened to him.  No one wanted to tell her, but she’d insisted Jake tell her.  

He’s my boyfriend, Jake.  He’s been my best friend since we were sixteen years old.  I have a right to know.  

No you don’t.  He wouldn’t want you knowing.

Jake, he’s fucking catatonic!  I can’t help him if I don’t know what he’s been through.  I love him too, you know.

I know you do, but… Jake’s voice had faltered.  Zoe, it’s really bad.  Like, he’s been through literal hell. 

All the more reason for me to know.  He’s going to need me to find his way back.  Honestly, Jake, just tell me.  I can handle it.  And it can’t be any worse than what I’m imagining.  I’ve seen some of the marks on his body.  They didn’t come from just a beating.

Jake hung his head and relented. 

It had been as bad as she’d imagined.  Worse in so many ways.  Jake flat out refused to show her the pictures, but she didn’t need them.  She read through the file, the abuse, the torture, the ways he’d been used.  The way he’d been found.  She’d had her own nightmares since then.  It wasn’t like reading a story or a news article.  It was real.  This happened to her family.   

Her sweet Ben, the man she loved who would never have hurt anyone ever, the man who held the door open for her, the man that had always treated her with such tenderness.  Her sweetheart since they were sixteen years old, had been so brutalized that he was a shell of himself.  Her heart broke for him every time she saw him.  

He looked so small in his bed, the covers pulled up to his chin.  She didn’t have to see to know what he’d be wearing - a giant oversized long sleeve t-shirt, baggy pajama bottoms that swallowed him, every inch of his body covered to hide the brutal scars and marks of his captivity they all knew were there.  She could still see the scar on his cheek from where he’d been hit so hard or so many times that it had opened up and never healed properly.  

She wanted to take his broken body in her arms and hold him until all the hurt was gone.  But life was never that simple.  He desperately needed a kind and gentle human touch, but every touch terrified him and threatened to send him back to that place.  For a moment, a fury washed over her that was almost overwhelming.  She hated the men that had done this to her sweet Ben.  Who could look at him, could know him, and ever want to hurt him?  What kind of person did that to another?  Alexsei fucking Volkov, that’s who, her brain supplied unhelpfully.  

God, if she could get her hands on that man she was certain her fury and vitriol would be enough to give her the strength to tear him apart, to rip his body to tiny little pieces and then feed them to the fucking dogs.  And even that would be better than what he deserved.  A small, very violent part of her, wanted him to have to suffer the same way Ben had suffered.  But she didn’t want to dwell on that because then she’d have to think about what that monster did to him.  

She slowly walked into the room, not wanting to startle him.  There had been several occasions where one or all of them had accidentally sent Ben spiraling into a flashback.  The visits were hard, but she made herself keep coming.  It wasn’t a chore, not really.  Not for Ben.  She’d keep trying to get through to him for the rest of her life if that’s what it took.  

“Hey, Benny,” she said lightly, sitting slightly away from him on the bed.  

Ben’s eyes seemed to suddenly focus, and they found hers.  HIs soft brown eyes that used to be filled with lightness and mirth were haunted and filled with fear more often than not now.  She could see the moment that he realized it was her and not them in his room.  His tense muscles relaxed slightly, and he smiled sadly at her, like he’d done something wrong. It made Zoe’s blood boil to see Ben’s shame. He didn’t deserve it. He was innocent. He’d always been.

“Hey, Zo.”

“How ya doing today?”

“Oh, um…”  

Words were no longer easy for him.  He struggled with expressing basic thoughts, which never used to be the case. Probably had to do with so much time spent gagged or muzzled.  Who fucking muzzles a person?  Who would muzzle Ben?  Why?  Why would anyone want to silence him?  Zoe shoved her anger back down.  

“I, I, I…” Ben huffed out a frustrated breath.  “I’m.  Okay.”  He had to say each word specifically.  But they both knew he wasn’t okay.  It was just the expected response.  Polite, appropriate.

“Are you?”

He looked at her again, sad eyes that used to dance.  

Zoe swallowed and gently touched his hand, even though she knew it was a risk.  He stiffened for a moment and then relaxed and returned her grasp.  

“I know you’re doing your best, Benny.  But you can’t do it all on your own.  W-will you let me help you?” she asked quietly.  

“I don’t know if you can.” Ben turned back to the wall. “The doctors said I’m fine physically.  But, I’m never going to be the same again.  I’ve said it before, Zo.  I think you should move on.  I’m no good for you anymore.  I can’t be the man you deserve.  I-I-”

“If you say you're broken or ruined one more time… I swear to God I’m gonna-”

Ben shrank in on himself a bit at her words and frustrated tone.  “It’s true,” he whispered.  

Zoe took a deep breath through her nose.  “Ben, if the situation were reversed and I was the one that was abducted and… and… and.. went through what you went through, would you stop loving me?”

Ben’s face paled and he looked like he might be sick.  Then anger flicked across his expression and then a cold resolve.  She understood.  He’d had a brief flashback but had seen her there instead of him.  The thought clearly horrified him, made him sick and angry.  She could read him so well, even after all of this.  

“I never stopped loving you.” He looked back at her. It was the strongest and most defiant voice she’d heard from him since his return.  

“I know, love.  But would you think I was a lost cause if it were me instead of you?”

Again the horror and fear and anger crossed his face at the thought of someone doing all that he’d endured to her.  His hands clenched into fists.

“Never.”

“Then why do you think I should leave you behind?  I could never do that.  You’re my best friend, my first and only love.  You’re the man I want to grow old with.”

“But I don’t know that I can be that man for you anymore.  Zoe, the things he did to me…”

“I don’t care.  I just want you.  Even if it’s just to sit with you, or to lay next to you at night.  I just want to be with you.”

“But you deserve more.”

“No, I deserve you.  Because you are the man I love.  The one God brought to me.  None of that has changed.”  She moved her hands slowly, so he could see, and took his face in her hands, her thumb just barely caressing the scar on his cheek.  “I love you, Benny.  Just you.  It’s always been you and will always be you.”  She leaned forward and barely touched her lips to his forehead, his eyelids, the scar, the tip of his nose.  

When she pulled back, he had tears running down his cheeks.  Her thumbs wiped them away. .  

“Was that too much?” she whispered.  “I’m sorry, Benny.”  She started to let go of his face but he reached up and grabbed her fingers.  

“No.  No, it’s not.  Please.”

“Please what, Benny.  Anything you want, just say it.”  Her voice was soft, like the barest breath of wind.  

“Stay with me.”

Zoe smiled sweetly at his request, but that wasn’t what her goal was for the day.  She looked him over, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the too pale skin.  No, she wouldn’t let him languish in this room all day everyday.  He had to get out.  It wasn’t good for him to hide from the world.  Still, baby steps.  Tiny, fractional, microscopic baby steps.  But always moving forward.  That’s what she could help him do.  Move forward.  

“No.  You’e coming with me this time,” she said with her own playful grin on her face.  

“Wha-?”

“Ben, you can’t stay in bed all the time, come with me.”

“No… No, I can’t.”

“You can.  Just hold my hand.  Don’t let go.  Come on.”  She held his gaze gently.  “Trust me,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.  

Zoe pulled him up gently.  His shirt slipped up slightly as the blankets shifted and she caught sight of the scars and ink that covered him.  Fucking Alexsei Volkov!  Ben tugged his shirt down hurriedly, glancing nervously at Zoe.  She just smiled and pretended not to see.  

She leaned her head against his shoulder once they were both standing.  “I love you.”

He leaned his head down on top of hers.  He’d forgotten how perfectly they fit together.  “Love you too,” he whispered as if nothing had changed.  “I’m still kinda weak, so… where are we going?”

“Just down to the garden.  You look like you could use some sunshine.”

Zoe led them down to the back door, holding Ben’s hand the whole time.  She paused to grab a blanket off the back of the couch.  

Zoe let go of his hand just long enough to spread the blanket out on the grass.  The day was warm, and the flowers were blooming in the afternoon sun.  She sank down onto the soft blanket and pulled Ben with her.  

She held him against her and whispered in his ear.  “Just relax.  It’s warm, you’re safe.  Feel the breeze on your face, the sun on your skin, the softness of the blanket under your fingers.  Listen to the sound of my voice, the birds in the trees.  Smell the flowers in the garden, the fresh cut grass all around us.  See the blue sky above you, the colors in the flowers of the garden, the stone wall surrounding us…” she trailed off quietly and gently rubbed his arm with just her fingernails.  

“And what am I supposed to taste?” he said, smiling up at her, and for a moment it was almost a real Ben smile.  The Ben from before.  There was the barest hint of mischievousness in his eyes.  

“What do you want to taste?”

“I… I thought a lot about your lipgloss when I was gone?”

Gone. That’s how he always said it. Like he’d just been away on a trip. But they both knew there were parts of him that would never come home. Still, Zoe forced herself to smile. 

“My lipgloss?”

“The watermelon one.  You know.  That one that was your favorite and that when they stopped selling it you went online and bought every tube you could find.”

“I still have it.”

“Are you wearing it now?”

‘Yes…”

“Then… then that’s what I want.”  It was hesitant and with a question in his eyes, but also bold and beautiful.

Zoe smiled down at him where he lay across her lap.  She leaned down and brushed her lips against his and then pulled away.  She watched him lick his lips and taste her.  They both knew they were waiting to see if he had a flashback.  

“Breeze in my hair, sun on my face, birds in the air, and your taste on my tongue.  Can… can we do that again?” he asked quietly.  

“As often as you want, my love.” 

Ben reached up and pulled her down towards him, the kiss was longer this time.  Zoe felt Ben’s tongue just barely touch her lips.  He didn’t push further and she didn’t ask for more.  It was enough for now.  

*!*!*!*!*  

Maria Adkins smiled as she looked down into the garden from the second story landing at the top of the stairs.    

“What ya looking at mom?” Jake asked.  Maria jumped slightly, she hadn’t realized her oldest was upstairs.  “Oh, nothing.  Just a nice day.”

Jake, sensing that wasn’t exactly true, stepped up next to her.  He smiled warmly when he saw his brother on the grass below.  “A nice day indeed.”  

Maria put her arm around his back.  Both her boys were taller than her, but she found it didn’t matter much. They both still needed her so much. Jake leaned against her, and she felt his breath hitch beneath her arm.

“I’m sorry, Mom.  I know I can never say it enough.  But I really am.”  

So much had happened since that day with the FBI where they’d learned what had happened.  So very much.  And she knew her boys adored each other.  Jake may have been the connection to that monster, but it wasn’t his fault.  She knew he’d have traded places with Ben in a heartbeat to save him from what had happened.  If anything, this had made Jake finally straighten up.  

She missed the humor and swagger that he’d often carried about him.  In many ways, both her boys were broken by this common event.  She could read it in Jake’s eyes, the guilt, the horror.  He’d bear that for the rest of his life.  There was no way he could have known.  No way for anyone to have known what lengths that bastard would take.  She’d long forgiven Jake for his role, but it would be a long time before Jake could forgive himself.  

“Stop, Jake.  Let’s just enjoy this for now.  Today is a good day.  We’re together and we’re safe.  Let’s just be glad for that.”

Jake leaned down and bumped his head against his mom’s shoulder, and she squeezed him around the middle.  They heard the front door open, and when Jacob Adkins announced he was home from work, they let him know they were upstairs.  

He joined them on the landing and smiled at the sight in the garden.  If his eyes grew glassy and moist, no one called him on it.  

“Come on,” Maria said softly.  “They’ll be okay.  Let’s go get dinner ready.  Jacob, I need the trash put out; and Jake, you can set the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both answered and turned to give the couple in the back garden some privacy.  

[leossmoonn]

can i request a fic with stefan where the reader loses her memories (like stefan did in s5) so stefan takes her out to all the places that are special to their relationship and he tells her all about how they used to date and how she loved him and all and then at the end she kisses him ❤️

if not that's okay! have a good day and make sure to drink some water ❤️❤️

okay ill be honest i dont remember anything of tvd from season 4 and on bc it was just so boring to me but YES I CAN DK THIS. and thank you! i hope you have a good day, and hydrate too <33 mwah!

masterlist

warnings / includes - mild language, crying, sad stefan, kissing, eating and food, talk about sex. oh and youre a vampire and grew up w stefan and damon :)) and you’ve been dating stefan ever since you two turned into vampires and you two have been married for 50 years! (yay) . not really edited

————

“can’t you just do your voodoo magic and fix her?”

“that’s not how it works, damon.”

“well, it works whenever elena needs it. just admit it, you don’t like y/n.”

“i do! this is just more complicated -”

“bullshit! i know you don’t know her very well, but we’ve known her since she was born. she’s my best friend and the love of my brother’s life, who, by the way, is about to go into a frenzy if you don’t fix her!”

“i’m trying! but whatever those traveler’s did, i don’t think i can reverse it.”

“argh!” damon growled, putting his hands under a table and ripping it up.

“okay, you need to calm down,” bonnie said. “throwing a fit won’t help.”

“well, i can’t just stand here and watch her die!”

“she’s not dying, she’s just asleep. the doctor said she will wake up soon.”

“oh, as if the doctor knows anything,” damon muttered.

“she actually knows a lot, and we’ll give her the treatments the doctor recommends before we try any magic.”

damon sighed, running his hands over his face. he looked over to you, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. he walked over to you, holding your hand in his.

“please wake up, y/n. please.”

it seemed as damon’s wishes were granted. your eyes fluttered open, a soft groan filled your throat as you tried to move your head back and forth. you peered at bonnie and damon, brows furrowing.

“who are you? and why-why are you holding my hand? get away from me!” you hissed, barring your fangs.

“well, she definitely knows she a vampire,” damon muttered.

bonnie ignored him, coming over to you tentatively. “hey, y/n. do you know who i am?”

“no. i-i want to go home. where am i? why-why does this look so strange? hospitals at home don’t look like this,” you gasped as you looked around your room.

“is she still stuck in the 1800s?” bonnie asked.

“let’s see. uh, y/n, what’s the date?” damon asked.

“1866, right?” you guessed.

“oh, shit,” damon muttered.

“what’s wrong?” you frowned. “y/n, you’re in the 21st century. it’s 2013,” bonnie explained.

your eyes bugged out of your head. “what? how-how can this be? you’re lying! you’re some witch! katherine warned me that you would try to trick me. who are you with? wha-what do you want from me?!”

“okay, crazy pants,” damon sighed. “do you know who i am?” he asked.

you took a good, hard look. “you look familiar… like you’re from a dream.”

“good, good, but do you know my name?”

your brain scrambled for the answer, but it all came up was blank.

“no, i’m sorry.”

“well, crap,” damon muttered. “what if we get stefan? he’s been her boyfriend for like, a hundred and fifty years. plus, they’ve been married for 50. she’s got to remember him,” bonnie suggested.

“yeah, okay,” damon nodded. “go and get him. i’ll stay with her.”

“why don’t i stay with her, and you go get stefan. you might irritate her enough to make her snap your neck,” bonnie snorted.

“fine. i’ll be back in a second. try to use your powers on her,” damon asked.

“no. now go,” bonnie shooed away damon.

he left, zooming through the halls to go and find his brother. meanwhile, bonnie went to sit next to you, taking your hand in hers.

“what are you doing. i said don’t touch me,” you hissed.

“what is your name?” bonnie asked.

“y/n,” you said. “what’s your full name?” she asked.

“y/n l/n,” you answered. “why are you asking me this? do you think i do not know my name?”

“no, no. i just…” bonnie sighed. “what’s your mother’s name?”

“louise,” you said. “and your father’s?” bonnie asked.

“martin. and before you ask, my sister and brother’s names are anna and christopher. are you studying me or something? oh, my… i-i swear i’m not dangerous. i don’t feed on people. not usually, anyways. please, spare me. if you want a real vampire, catch katherine pierce. her real name is katerina petrova. or klaus mikaelson, his whole family needs to be killed. please, i -”

“i’m not going to kill you. no one is going to kill you. and katherine is already dead,” bonnie explained.

“oh, really? well, then ignore what i said about her."

bonnie smiled a little. “it’s alright. do you remember anything that’s happened in the last 24 hours?”

“no, i’m sorry. i must ask again, where am i?” you questioned.

“well, you’re in 2013. about one hundred and forty-nine years from when you were turned into a vampire. that man who was here is damon salvatore. he’s been your best friend ever since you were born. you grew up together, and he turned you into a vampire. i’m bonnie bennett. i am… i have a sort of friendship with damon. i’m a witch from the bennett line. i am here to help you. we’re friends, too, actually.”

“oh,” you pursed your lips. “i’m sorry i don’t remember you. i think i remember one of your family members, though… emma, ella, em-”

“emily, yeah,” bonnie smiled. “well, it’s good to know i’m in good company,” you sighed.

“yes, you are. oh, and there’s one more person i forgot to mention. he’s damon’s brother, stefan. he’s your -”

“y/n!”

your head snapped to the door. a handsome young man stepped into the room, worrying filing his features.

“hello?” you frowned.

“it’s me, stefan. you’re husband,” the man said.

your eyes widened. “i-i- excuse me? my husband? i didn’t know i was-” your breath hitched as you saw the ring on your finger. it was a beautiful silver ring with a blue jewel in the middle, stefan and your name carved in the middle of it.

“oh,” you gasped.

“do you remember me?” he asked, coming closer to you.

you looked back up at him, furrowing your brows as you tried to remember. you shook your head in disappointment. “no, i’m sorry. i wish i could. what happened to me that i can’t remember my own husband?"

“travelers took your memory,” bonnie answered. “travelers? l-like the evil witches?” you guessed.

“yes, precisely,” bonnie nodded.

“well, can you get back my memories? you’re a witch, right?” you asked her.

“exactly! that’s what i was saying. i’m so glad someone gets it!” damon exclaimed.

“i-i’m sorry, who are you again?” you frowned. “damon. i’m damon salvatore. the best salvatore, and your best friend,” he grinned.

“oh, right - damon. and you’re uh, you’re bonnie, correct?” you turned to the brunette.

“i am,” bonnie nodded.

“and you’re…“ you turned to stefan.

hope was shining in his dazzling green eyes. his lips were pulled into a frown, his brows furrowed as tears clouded his eyes.

“you’re stefan! my, uh, my husband whom i can’t remember. i’m so sorry, again.”

“it’s okay,” he sighed. “you just woke up. you’ll probably remember later.”

“yes,” you nodded, “that’s probably it.”

just then, the doctor came in. she checked you out, telling you that you had to stay in the hospital one more night before you could be discharged. after she left, damon, bonnie, and stefan made up a plan.

“i can’t just put her memories back. i don’t have any access to them,” bonnie said.

“can’t you just pull them out of the air or something?” damon asked.

“magic doesn’t work like that, damon,” bonnie glared.

“what if we take her to all her favorite places? places she’s been to lots of times,” stefan suggested.

“yes! that is a great idea, except for the fact that she thinks she’s in the 1800s and most things that were there have been torn down or rebuilt!” damon seethed.

“well, then what else are we supposed to do, damon! we can’t just sit here and hope that her memories will come back. what if they never do!” stefan yelled.

“shut up you two! you’re scaring her!” bonnie hit both of them, then pointing to you.

both of the salvatore’s face softened as they saw your eyes wide with fear.

“look, she doesn’t know you two yet. she doesn’t trust you two. she literally thought we were going to capture her for being a vampire. we need to just take it easy and gain her trust, which won’t be hard, i hope. but i think that stefan’s idea is great. and stefan, you should be the one to do it. you deserve to build the strongest bond with her and to spend the most time with her,” bonnie explained.

stefan smiled at her gratefully. “thank you, bonnie.”

“of course, stefan,” she smiled back at him.

“what about me! i was her friend before you were even born!” damon poked stefan.

“she was literally a baby, damon. she didn’t even know who you were,” stefan scoffed.

“oh, she did. and she loved playing peek-a-boo with me,” damon huffed.

“well, i’ve been her actual best friend just a few months after she was born. you’ve been like the brother she’s never had,” stefan stated.

“same difference.” damon rolled his eyes.

“b-bonnie?” you stammered.

“yeah, what do you need?” bonnie came over to you immediately.

“um, i need to use the bathroom.” you whispered.

“oh, yeah, of course. gentlemen, please exit the room.” bonnie said to the two men.

“alright. hey, y/n, you hungry? we can get you something to eat,” damon asked.

“yes. i’m famished, honestly. um, can i have some meatloaf, please? with some wine?” you requested.

“um, y/n, i’m afraid to inform you that -” damon started, but stefan cut him off.

“we’ll see what we can find,” stefan said.

“thank you… stefan, was it?” you guessed.

“yeah. it’s stefan,” he smiled. “okay, c’mon, lover boy. the lady needs to use the restroom,” damon grabbed stefan, dragging him out of your room and shutting the door.

bonnie then helped you out of the bed and into the restroom, waiting behind the door until you called for help.

“thank you so much. your kindness is very much appreciated.” you smiled at her as she helped you back to bed.

“it’s not a problem.” bonnie sighed with a smile.

“will you be able to get my memories back?” you asked.

“um… no. not right now, i’m sorry,” bonnie frowned.

“oh, well, it’s alright. maybe it’s for the better. i can’t imagine all the horrible things i must have done to you and your friends,” you laughed sourly.

“what do you mean?” bonnie asked.

“well, i… i overheard you a little when i was waking up. damon said that you didn’t like me much. i don’t blame you, i mean, i can be crass and judgmental, but i’ve changed over the years. i-i think, at least. otherwise i suppose i would be dead from those travelers now. no one wants to help a horrible person,” you explained.

“well, you’re not horrible, at all. for someone who has been with damon for like, almost two hundred years, you’re very kind. you’re also very funny and you try to help people the best you can.”

“oh, thank you,” you smiled shyly. “um… what do you mean about being with damon?”

“oh, he’s just um… not my favorite person to be around is all. you’ll see,” bonnie chuckled.

“i think i have, a little,” you giggled. “but he seems to care a lot about me. i suppose he’s known me since i’ve been born.”

“no, he does. honestly, like stefan said earlier, damon is the older brother you never bad.”

“and stefan, he is supposed to be my best friend and lover?”

bonnie smiled, “yes.”

“can you tell me about stefan? do-do you know him well?” you asked.

“i do, actually. he’s so kind, always wanting to help people and be the best. i swear, he works himself to death trying to be the hero. he’s very level-headed and extremely smart. he’s more mellow than damon, definitely, but he has his funny, savage moments. he’s dealt with a lot of pain in his years, and you’ve been there to experience it all. in fact, he always tells us how you are his light. it’s really sweet. i wish someone talked about me like that.”

heat crept up your neck and you couldn’t help but smile. “well, i understand why i fell in love with him, then.”

bonnie chuckled, “yeah, he’s a great guy. he’s probably more rough around the edges now than he used to be, though.”

“well, that’s what happens when you’ve lived for so long,” you chuckled. “i personally think i’ve softened over the years. i remember when i was a little girl, i used to be so quick and temperamental. my mother always tried to reprimand me, but i had a mind of my own, i guess. or that’s what my father used to say. now that i think about it, i think stefan is the reason why i have changed. he’s seemed to rub off on me.”

“wait, are you starting to get your memory back?” bonnie asked, getting excited.

“no, i’m afraid not. well, not of current things. i just am remembering things about myself. i still don’t remember damon or stefan,” you frowned

“oh, well, it’s okay. you only woke up an hour ago. we’ll give it time.” bonnie patted your arm.

“thank you. you must forgive me, i’ve always had a horrible memory. and now with mine taken away, i probably will be a burden.”

“no, no,” bonnie shook her head. “please, you’re our friend. i’m sorry if damon made it seem like i don’t like you, but i do. we just don’t spend time with each other that much, but we definitely will now.”

“i hope you don’t mind it, then.”

“i definitely don’t, don’t worry.”

you two sat in a comfortable silence, stefan and damon coming back only a few minutes later.

“so, you can’t have any wine, so we got you the next best thing: grape juice. and we also didn’t find any meatloaf, but we did find some spaghetti and meatballs,” damon said, setting it all down on the table.

“oh, thank you two so much.” you smiled. you began to get up, your feet slipping suddenly.

stefan rushed to catch you, his hands going under your arms. your eyes met his immediately, your breath getting caught in your lungs. you fell into a sort of a daze as he lifted you back up on your feet.

“my, you’re handsome,” you muttered.

“thank you. you’re beautiful,” stefan smiled.

your jaw fell open, your eyes widening. “o-oh. did i say that out loud? i am so sorry -”

“no, it’s okay. it was really nice to hear that,” he assured you.

“alright, thank you,” you smiled. “of course. my pleasure.” he let go of you, pulling out a chair.

“so, i say we compel the doctor to let you go home now so we can get this show on the road!” damon announced.

“no, they need to monitor her-”

“she’s a freaking vampire, bonnie!” damon exclaimed in a hushed whisper. he then turned to you. “you feel fine, right?”

“yes. a lot better now that i’ve eaten,” you answered.

damon grinned, clapping his hands. “see? she’s fine. i say we get her into her room and let her sleep in her bed.”

“damon, that’s not-”

“excuse me,” you interrupted stefan, peering at him through your eyes. “if you don’t mind me interjecting, i’d quite like to go home. and damon is right, i am a vampire so besides my memories, my body has healed me completely.”

stefan looked at you for a few moments, sighing before talking again. “yeah, that makes sense. are you sure you’re okay to go home? i mean, you almost slipped -”

“i am okay, stefan,” you smiled. “these floors are quite slippery with these socks on.” you moved your feet to show them.

“right,” he nodded. “okay, well, damon? i assume i can trust you to compel the doctors?”

“on it!” damon grinned, rushing out the door.

“is he always this eager to help?” you asked. “only when it comes to you,” stefan chuckled.

“well, i suppose that’s okay, for now,” you hummed.

“yes. you are our first priority,” stefan smiled.

“oh, please don’t let me ruin your daily routine. like you said, damon likes helping me. he seems to not have anything important to do, anyways, no offense.” you lowered your head sheepishly. “but he can help me while you two go to school and such. do you go to high school still?”

“no, we don’t. well, stefan doesn’t, anyways,” bonnie chuckled. “i’m going to college in the fall.”

“oh, that’s wonderful! i see the women have made lots of improvements. what are you going to study?” you asked.

“research and analysis. it’s not really a study, but that’s what i’m majoring in.”

“wow, you must be so smart, then. good for you. i wish i went to college,” you frowned slightly. “

“you did,” stefan spoke up. “oh? what did i study?” you perked up.

“literature. you went around the world teaching english and literature. part of it was to fit in as a human, but another part was because you always had a passion for it.”

“sounds like me,” you smiled. “i loved reading so much. i remember my mother had to hide my books for when we ate dinner.”

“woah, you’re remembering things now?” damon walked into the toom

“not really. i’m only remembering things about myself and my family.”

“damn,” damon muttered. “it’s alright,” stefan said. “anyways, we good to go?”

“indeed we are. let’s roll,” damon said.

stefan helped you out of your seat. you took out your IV, damon rushing you to his car.

“wow. this is beautiful,” you admired his chevy.

“i know! she’s my pride and joy.” damon sighed happily as he opened the door for you.

“thank you,” you smiled at him. he returned the smile, getting into the passenger seat.

“i’ll drive her home, i-”

“actually, can stefan drive me? i’d like to get to know him more. he is my husband, after all,” you said.

stefan’s chest swelled with happiness, his lips upturning into a bright smile.

“i suppose. don’t total my car,” damon warned stefan.

“no promises,” stefan smirked, getting in the driver’s seat. “you know i’m kidding, right? i won’t crash the car.”

“i know, don’t worry,” you smiled. “great,” stefan breathed out as he started the car.

“this is amazing technology. so much faster than the horses.”

“yep. it’s amazing how far we’ve come.”

you nodded, turning your head to look at him. you looked down at his left hand, smiling a little as you saw a silver wedding band.

“how long have we been married for?” you asked.

“50 years. 51 this summer,” he answered. “how long did we date for?” you asked.

“well, we actually didn’t date until we turned vampires. as you probably know, your emotions are heightened once you turn. and our crushes on each other were just too much to ignore, we started dating. we helped each other out a lot, you helped more than me. i mean, i-i was a wreck. with katherine turning us into vampires and all, me killing my dad, damon abandoning me. you were the only person who stuck by me. you know, you were, and still are, my light,” he explained.

you grinned, “bonnie told me that that’s what you call me.”

“ah, she’s told you about me, then. what did she say?” he asked.

“well, she said that you’re very kind and are always wanting to help people. she also said that you are smart and serious, but that you have your breaking moments. she also said that you have experienced a lot of pain. i am sorry to hear that,” you frowned.

“bonnie is very kind. too kind, actually.”

“oh, don’t say that. i happen to think it’s all true. just from what i’ve seen today.”

“thank you. i’m glad i’ve made a good impression.”

“well, you are my husband, so i would think that what bonnie said is true.”

“makes sense,” he nodded. “so, where do i live? with you, i presume?” you questioned.

“yes, and with damon. we live in the salvatore boarding house. it was built for uh, well, boarding in mystic falls.”

“do we have separate rooms?” you asked.

“u-um, no. but, if you’re not comfortable with that, there are plenty of spare rooms-"

"no," you said quickly.

stefan glanced at you, eyes wide in surprise. you chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck.

"u-um, what i mean is that it is okay. i'll get to know your quicker if we share a room. just um, let me have my privacy?" you requested.

"of course, of course," he nodded. "lovely," you exhaled deeply.

you looked out of your window, observing all the people walking around town square.

"so much has changed," you said, a little nostalgic.

"i know, it's crazy," stefan laughed. "but, i'll take you to all the old places we used to go, and the new ones you have gown accustomed to."

"sounds like a deal. you know, i'm excited. is that um… strange that i am so lively after having just woken up from my memories being taken away?" you chuckled a little.

"no, no, not at all. you were always really happy and upbeat, even on the darkest days. that's one of the reasons why i fell in love with you. you may not believe this, but, i'm kind of a debby-downer. you keep it light and fun, much like damon, actually. seems as though all that time you spent with him, as young as you were, you developed someone his behaviour."

"is that a bad thing? bonnie insinuated that damon isn't a good guy," you frowned.

"no, no. you're different. you pick and choose when to be a little um… eccentric. damon just says whatever comes out of his mouth, no matter what the situation is."

"i suppose that's another reason why you love me?" you grinned. "yes, you suppose right," he nodded.

"is this the boarding house?" you pointed to the mansion stefan was pulling in to.

"yes, it is. and, you can call it your home. that's what it is," stefan said.

"alright. it's beautiful." you admired the front.

"it's even better inside. especially our bedroom. you really know how to decorate." he got out of the car, opening the door for you.

"you're very chivalrous. i like it," you giggled. "well, anything for my girl," he flashed a warm smile.

your stomach flipped suddenly, a similar feeling to your heart hammering in your chest awakened. if your heart was still alive, then you it would be palpitating and ramming into your ribcage. you smiled back at him, getting out of the car.

you two walked together to the front, stefan opening the door without unlocking it.

"do we always keep the door unlocked?" you asked. "yeah. you know, the only people we are really worried about are vampires and well, you can't get in unless you invite them in," he answered.

"oh, right. well, that's nice. we don't have to worry so much about security," you said as you stepped inside.

he nodded in agreement, closing the door behind him once you two went inside.

"wow. you're right, it is better inside," you gasped. "mmhm. so, let me show you around. this is the grand study. it was mostly used by our nephew zach, but damon killed him as soon as he got here," stefan sighed.

"o-oh. and damon is supposed to be my best friend?"

"he's better than that, don't worry. you'll see, you'll remember," stefan patted your back.

"alright," you nodded. "anyways, right here is the library's and just out here is the grand hall. here is the dining room and the living room. back there is the kitchen, and next to it is the hearth room." stefan walked you around the house.

"it's amazing. wow, and to think this is my home," you laughed. "yep, all yours," stefan smiled as he heard your laugh.

he admired you as you walked through the living room, feeling around the bookshelves and the furniture. he missed this, seeing you back at home. before you woke up in the hospital, you had been kidnapped and tortured for two weeks before the travelers dumped you in the backyard of your house. after that, stefan rushed you to the hospital and about a day later you were awake. and now here you were, making yourself at home again. you looked so pretty in the setting sunlight. stefan almost wanted to cry at the relief of finally having you home.

"show me the upstairs?" your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"yeah, yeah, of course," he nodded. he reached his hand out to you, you taking it graciously.

you both smiled at each other, stefan leading you up the stairs.

"so, up here is damon's room. that's where elena, his girlfriend, and him usually are. they have so much sex, you won't be able to get much rest here," stefan snorted.

"i'll make sure to wear my earplugs," you giggled.

stefan smiled at you, walking you to the next rooms. "these are the baths. and right here is our room. every other room up here is a guest room, but uh, this is the main event, i suppose." he opened the bedroom door, letting you peer inside of it.

he was right, you were a great decorator.

the room had green walls, bookshelves on the walls, and a few plants here and there. there was a big bed in the middle with gray sheets, pictures of the two of you hanging above the bed frame. there was a desk and chair in the middle of the room, books and papers strewn all over the desk top. there were picture of you two all over the walls, making you smile whilst also crying.

"what's wrong?" stefan rushed to you.

"oh, it's nothing. i just…" you sighed, turning to him. "these pictures are so lovely. i-i wish i could remember these events."

stefan took your hand in his, giving you a small smile. "don't worry about it. it's not your fault that you can remember.”

"right," you nodded, still disappointed in yourself.

"why don't we go and walk around town? maybe that'll help get your memories back," stefan suggested.

"that sounds fun, but i don't think walking around will reverse dark magic," you joked.

stefan chuckled, nodding in agreement. "you're right, but, you're starting to remember your own childhood. we don't know what the travelers took from you, so maybe they didn't take the memories of you and i. you might just have amnesia."

"i'd love to do anything to try and remember," you said. "me, too. before we go, do you want to change clothes? you've had these clothes on for two weeks," stefan gestured to your ripped shirt and dirty jeans.

"oh, yes. i didn't even realise i was wearing these." you looked down at your legs, eyes widening at the fact you were wearing pants. "when did they invent these?"

"1873, but women still couldn't wear them until the 19th century. and even then, women didn't wear them as regular clothing until the mid-20th century," he explained.

“well, i’m glad that i’ve stayed alive this long to be able to wear these. what are they called again?” you asked.

“jeans,” stefan answered. he walked over to your closet, opening it and presenting all your clothes. “and you have lots of jeans. so, go ahead and get changed into whatever. if you want to shower then go ahead, the bathroom is to the right.”

you nodded, “thank you. i’ll be done in a few minutes.”

“no problem. take your time,” he smiled.

you returned the expression, watching him as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

you went to your closet, running your hands over your clothes. you had lots of grey, purple, and blue shirts. you saw lots of ripped jeans, some were their regular blue and others were white or black. you chose a light purple, short- sleeved shirt and a pair of dark-wash jeans. you found a pair of black panties and a black bra to match.

you went into the bathroom, turning the shower on and undressing. you put your dirty clothes in a near pile on the floor as you didn’t know where the hamper was. you set your clean clothes onto the bathroom sink, jumping into the shower.

the hot water felt so good, it was hard to get out, but you didn’t want to keep stefan waiting too long. you dried off quickly, looking at yourself in the mirror after you got dressed. you didn’t realize, but you were very dirty and tired-looking before showering. you looked better now. more awake, clean, and pretty.

you didn’t bother putting on makeup, not even knowing where you kept it. you went downstairs, finding stefan in the living room reading a book.

“i am ready,” you announced.

stefan looked up, jaw dropping as he looked over you.

“you look gorgeous,” he spoke.

you smiled shyly, lowering your head in bashfulness. “thank you. it’s not much, just a comfortable outfit.”

“doesn’t matter. you look amazing,” he shrugged.

“thank you, again.”

“of course,” he smiled. “let’s go ahead and go, yeah?”

you nodded, slipping on your shoes as you followed him out to the garage. you got into stefan’s car, driving back to town square.

“a lot of places have been built or torn down. i’m going to take you to the places we used to go to in this century, then go to the places from long ago that have been torn down,” he explained.

“sounds good,” you nodded.

he parked next to the strip mall, getting out and opening the door for you.

“are men still as chivalrous as you?” you jumped out of the car.

“no, not at all, but i like to be known as a gentleman. it sets a good first impression,” he answered.

“that’s sad,” you frowned. “it is. honestly, most guys nowadays are jerks and are selfish. no one teaches kindness anymore,” he sighed.

“well, i’m thankful i chose a man who still cares about those things. it really reflects on what kind of man you are.”

“i agree,” stefan nodded.

you two walked onto the side walk, stefan lacing your fingers together and guiding you into a store.

“this is your favorite store in the whole

town square. you always rave about the good deals and i’ve bought you lots of jewelry here,” he explained.

you hummed in reply, looking over the store. “it’s quaint. i see how it would appeal to me.”

“yeah, this store is the most popular one here, i’m pretty sure.”

“the owner must be rich, then.”

“probably is,” stefan nodded.

he then led you out of the store, explaining all the other stores and restaurants in the town square before stopping and showing you a specific place you liked.

“this is the grill, the most popular restaurant here. you and caroline, who you have yet to meet, love to sing karaoke here. you and bonnie and elena, who again, you have yet to meet, play pool here and get tipsy on the weekend.”

“what is karaoke and pool?” you questioned.

“karaoke is when you pick a song you like, and you sing it with a friend, or sometimes yourself. a lot of bars have karaoke, and some restaurants do, like this one. it’s just a fun activity for drunk people, honestly. and pool

is this game over there. you see those people

shooting the balls with the sticks?” he pointed across the room.

you studied them, seeing as they would curse in disappeared, or jump and clap in happiness.

“yes, it looks fun.”

“it is, and you’re quite good at it. maybe tomorrow you can meet everyone else and i’ll teach you how to play,” he suggested.

“i would like that very much,” you smiled.

“me, too,” he smiled back. “are you hungry? we can take a break from walking and get something to eat.”

“my stomach does ache a little. what kind of food do they have here?”

“burgers, fries, salad. classic american stuff, basically. i can order what you usually do.”

“sure, but i’m afraid to tell you that i have no money,” you sighed.

“it’s not a problem. this is my treat. plus, we have a joint bank account so, it doesn’t really matter who pays.””

“wow, that’s nice.”

“it definitely is.”

stefan then led you to a small booth, ordering immediately once the waiter came.

“tell me more about yourself,” you prompted.

stefan stared at you, not expecting you to want to know about him. it wasn’t completely surprising, but you just seemed a lot more interested in the town than him. he was happy that you asked, though. it reassured him that you two had a chance, even if you two had to rebuilt your relationship.

“okay, well, my birthday is november 1st, 1846. my favorite color is blue, my favorite type of alcohol is bourbon, but i do like a glass of whiskey every once in a while. one of my best friends was lexi branson. she was also your friend, too, but damon killed her for absolutely no reason.”

“oh, my - i am so sorry, stefan,” you gasped. “oh, it’s alright. damon has uh, since proved himself to be better… unfortunately,” stefan sighed.

you put your hand on his, looking him in the eyes.

“it’s not alright, stefan. i know you say damon is a lot better than people say, and that he has proven himself better, but that doesn’t justify what he did. i’m so sorry you lost lexi. i understand what it is it like to lose someone so close to you. i’m sure you remember, but i lost christopher only a few years after we became vampires. i don’t remember all of it, but i do remember terrorizing a whole village because of the anger and depression i felt. i’m sure lexi was an amazing young woman. one day, i would love it if you told me more about her.”

stefan smiled at you gratefully, eyes prickling with tears. “thank you, y/n. it means a lot to me. and yes, i’d love to tell you about her.”

“fantastic.” you squeezed his hand for support, the gesture warming his chest. “anyways, go on,” you said, keeping your hand on his.

“alright. well, i love i love lucy, which is a ‘50s sitcom that, funnily enough, you hated,” he chuckled.

“what is a sitcom and why did i hate it?” your brows knitted together in confusion.

“well, a sitcom is a comedy tv show. and a tv show is content that is broadcasted onto something that is called a television, which was the big black screen in the living room of our house. sitcom is a type of tv show. there are sitcoms, dramas, romance, horror, and lots of others. a lot of these genres bleed together, much like books. and as for why you hated the show, you just thought it was annoying because i would watch it all the time.”

“well, i do have a short temperament, so that explains it, i suppose. that tv show thing is a little confusing. can you show me how it works when we get home?”

“yes, of course. i can show you your favorite tv shows and movies,” he nodded eagerly.

“lovely,” you smiled at his enthusiasm. “so, what else do you like?”

“well, i am a fan of scorcese, who is a famous tv director. he directed taxi driver, which is a film i am a fan of. i love to cook, and i’m quite good at it, if i do say so myself. um, let’s see… what else is there…” he trailed off, looking at the table as he thought. “i am a bit or a hoarder, as you probably could see in our room. i enjoy any and all types of music, i have a rose tattoo on my right shoulder, and i am a scorpio, if that means anything to do.”

he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears turning pink as he realized you were staring and smiling at him the whole time.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“it’s just nice hearing all these things about you. i can piece together who you are, who the man i am married to is. it’s obvious you don’t open up to people a lot, and i appreciate you doing that with me,” you explained.

“oh, well, it’s no problem. you’ll remember all these things, anyways. but this is just surface level stuff, nothing special.”

“i think it is special and important. now that i know you a little better, i’m able to talk to you more and be more comfortable.”

“mm, that’s true,” he nodded.

you gave him a small smile, your food then arriving.

“wow, this is a lot,” you chuckled, looking at the cheeseburger and fries.

“it’s really good, too,” stefan said.

“how do i eat this?” you asked. “pick it up in your hands and take a bite, like this.” stefan took a bite of his burger and fries.

you followed in suit, groaning in pleasure.

“my, they never had this food at home. this is delicious.”

“i know, right? so glad america stopped the wine and beef soup at dinner.”

you giggled, nodding in agreement. you two ate in silence, stefan paying before you two left.

“do you want to continue going around town, or are you tired?” stefan asked.

“i want to continue,” you stated.

“alright. time to go to all the torn down places now,” he sighed, walking you back to his car.

you two drove a little ways away from town square, finding yourselves at the cemetery.

“are anna, christoper, and my mother buried here?” you asked.

“yes, they are. do you want to see their graves?” stefan asked.

you sat in the car for a few moments, holding your seatbelt in thought. you shook your head as an answer.

“no, i would hate to put a damper on this lovely evening.”

“oh, well, it’s okay. you always manage to make things bright and happy, even when we’re visiting the cemetery, but if you really don’t want to, then i’ll take you to the salvatore estate, and where your house was located.”

“mm, i am sure. we can visit some other time,” you smiled.

he returned the expression. “alright.” he got out, going to open the door for you, but you had already jumped out.

“sorry, i um, wanted to see how the door works,” you admitted sheepishly.

stefan grinned, finding your curiosity adorable. “no worries. ready to go?”

“indeed i am,” you nodded.

you took the initiative and laced your fingers with his. stefan glanced at you, his chest swelling with joy. it was almost like old times.

“so, where is the salvatore estate?” you asked.

“it’s just a mile into the woods. there’s only a singular pillar there because it got torn down, but the pillar marks the spot where the house stood.”

“why did it get torn down? it was such a beautiful home. surely someone from these days would want to live in it,” you frowned.

“you’d think that, but i guess folks these days want something more modern. but, wait, do you remember my house?” hope filled his eyes, carrying all the way through his voice.

“i think i do. it seems… familiar in my mind. i remember the front of the house, the beautiful entrance and the pretty rose bushes, the steps that led up to the door. i remember a room… it was of medium size. there was a big bed in the middle, a deep-sea blue carpet under it. there was a bug mirror across from the bed, a painting or two hung up on the walls. there was a small desk in the corner next to the closet. the room is very empty, but it brings back feelings of warmth and calmness.”

“yeah, that was my room. you spent most of your summer’s in there with me.”

“oh,” your eyes lit up. “you said that we didn’t officially get together until after we were vampires, but i remember being in the bed in lots of white, button-up shirts. did we-?” you looked to him, eyes wide and hoping he would say yes.

his cheeks were tainted pink as he nodded. “yes, we had lots of fun nights, but not all of them consisted of sex.”

“i see,” you nodded, a little smile on your face. “what else did we do besides sleep together, then?”

“well, most times we just laid there in each other’s arms. sometimes i would read to you and you would fall asleep in my arms. other times we danced, sang, talked about the future together. and let me tell you, we definitely did not imagine an eternity together, but i’m really glad it turned out that way. despite all the pain we suffered.”

your chest warmed as you imagine you two in the 1800s, doing more and being more than just friends with intimate relations.

“does damon know of this?” you questioned.

“he does, but no one else doesn’t. to make things easier, we just told everyone that we started dating after we became vampires, and that we got married in 1963, which we did.”

“and how was the wedding?” you asked.

“the best night of my life,” he grinned. “we have lots of pictures of that night in the living room and our room, which i will show you when we get back.”

“i can’t wait,” you smiled giddily.

you squeezed stefan’s hand, the gesture making both of your body’s shiver.

“here it is,” he said, taking you closer to the singular pillar.

you let go of his hand slowly, walking around the property. you closed your eyes, feeling the cool breeze fan your face. you stood in the middle, right where the living room be. lots of memories then flooded back to you, making you snap your eyes open.

“your father didn’t like us together,” you stated.

stefan furrowed his brows. “yes, how-how do you know that?”

you didn’t answer him, continuing to reminisce.

“i was meant to wed damon, yet, i fell in love with you. your mother would let us play together, knowing that the fate your father decided wasn’t going to happen. she accepted us. she actually liked us better together than damon and i. she thought damon was too wild, too untamed to settle down so young. he was like her, in that way. but you, once you saw me at our first ball at age 14, you knew i was the one. i remember you telling me this one night on my sixteenth birthday. you had taken me up to your room, sneaking up extra cake for me, and we laid together on your bed. that was both of our first time that night - it was amazing. you told me before we went to bed about your growing feelings for me. that night we both said ‘i love you’ for the first time.”

stefan stared at you, mouth agape and tears welling in his eyes.

“you-you really remember that?”

“i do,” you smiled slowly at him. “i remember the marks you left on my skin, the joy i felt as you held my hand, the way i cried when you told me that you loved me. i-i’m afraid that this is all i remember, but -“

“no, no, it’s enough. it’s more than enough,” he sniffled, coming closer to you. he slipped his hand into yours, his other hand wrapping around your waist.

you smiled, putting your free hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb up and down on his cheekbones. you looked into his eyes, studying his face as your hand went up and ran itself through his hair. you brought your hand back down to cup his cheek, your fingers dancing along his jawline.

“i also remember skipping school, playing football in the backyard, me wearing your shirt for the first time and it leading to us sleeping together again,” you giggled.

“how do you remember all of this?” he asked.

“the travelers must’ve just took all the important information about us, which we can deal with later. i want to enjoy this moment now,” you breathed out.

“thank god that they took that important stuff. it’s not that important once you think about it,” he nodded.

“i agree. i bet damon wouldn’t agree about that, though,” you joked.

“well, damon has never been madly in love until the last couple of years. but, me? i’m been in love with you forever.”

your lips spread widely and you looked deeply into his eyes, feeling yourself falling for him again.

“i love you,” you exhaled. stefan grinned, “i love you more.”

“nu-uh,” you shook your head. “mmhm,” he smirked.

you moved in closer, your nose bumping his softly. your eyes flickered down from his eyes to his lips multiple times before closing the gap. your lips met his in slow motion, immediately moving with his. his lips were soft and kissed you well, like he had done this a million times before, and couldn’t wait to do it again. he held you close against him, breathing in deeply at the taste of your lips. he felt at peace once again, whole and complete. and as for you, you felt alive.

every atom in your body was humming in pleasure. the feeling of his hands in your body, fitting right in with your curves, were like finally finishing a puzzle. it gave you butterflies, the way he tasted and smelled. the way he kissed you was delicious. it was gentle, but passionate. his lips worked against yours quickly, his tongue sliding against yours, eliciting a small moan from your throat. your teeth bumped each other gently, causing the kiss to then become fast, needy, hot.

you pulled away before anything else could commence, your chest heaving up and down. a line of spit broke off from your lips, breaking off as the breeze ran through it.

“remember anything else now?” stefan breathed out.

“just how much i’ve missed you,” you stated.

“i’ve missed you, too, baby. wanna go and see where old home was now?”

“yes, i’d love that,” you nodded. “great. come and follow me, then we can go home and i’ll make you your favorite meal, okay?” he suggested.

“that sounds amazing.”

“i’m so glad to have you back, y/n,” he squeezed your hand.

“i’m glad to be back.”

————

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[pocketed-fool]

Okay so. Again, spoiler alert.

If you havent finished/played the game please dont read this.

Ive seen plenty of times people call the Pale King a coward and now yall aint exactly wrong, but also it's not completely right.

Before anything else here i want to clarify that im not defending him for what he has done.

The dude fucked up. Hard.

So.

Ive seen people antagonize the King (for a good reason okay) and straight up call him a bad person and saying that the game puts him in a bad light in general, but the thing is that the story doesnt want you to think of the events as if it was all black and white.

The Pale King seems like a very stern person, quite strict too and possibly with a very strong tendency to control, to rule, to possess (in the hidden room, the one with the Void tablet, he clearly expresses how Void should be "harnessed", controlled, and in the Path of Pain he mentions how punishment must be necessary to witness "sealed secrets"), so basically not a very open, emotional kind of person, right?

At the end of the Path of Pain we see him look at the Pure Vessel though.

Maybe he cared about his child, and if he didnt, the Pure Vessel surely did.

The idea instilled.

(In some hidden files the Vessel calls him in a dreamnail dialogue while they're still sealed in the Black Egg, In any case its very likely that they both cared for eachother, in a way or another).

So its just safe to assume the dude just kept a cold and strong appereance just for the sake of the Kingdom even when he noticed his plan was going to shit (Wyrms have foresight so there is no way he didnt know) and he still kept sticking to his plan cause that was the last chance they, as a Kingdom, had.

At the very end he ends up escaping in the dream realm, which at first looks like the most coward thing to do.

But if you think about it: the Queen, whose biggest desire is to "spread her seed" and to have a family, ended up giving up on the desire to have other children and to breed because of shame and i believe the King did the same exact thing.

He gave up on trying to control, possess, own and rule altogether because of shame.

And yes, fear.

But most of all shame.

Shame for letting his children die in the Abyss, shame for giving up on the only child who survived, shame for letting his kingdom die when it needed him the most, shame for choosing three dreamers, who were gonna keep the seal strong and protected, and then refusing to back up when even Monomon noticed the plan was not gonna work, shame for upsetting Gods that ended up causing the mess he was trying to fix , shame for putting such weight on his Queen's shoulders, shame for trying to fix issues that started the very first moment he shed his last molt and became who he was until he died.

He decided to disappear so that he would restrain himself from keeping the problems from multiplying.

And yes, this doesnt exactly look or feel right, but it was probably the only thing he had left, possibly the hardest thing too.

I honestly cant stop thinking how good of a character he is, he appears like three/four times in the entire game and he has such depth in characterization its crazy.

So yeah, the Pale King isnt a great person, but i believe that if he had a chance to have a Kingdom without the problems he had to face when he built his own, id almost think he could be a good King. Not a great person per se, just a good King.

And who knows, even a good father.

[charliedawn]

How would they react to the new arrival ?

" Hi everybody. My name is Y/N and I am the head nurse around here. If you have any questions, you can ask them to me. I see here that two of you are transfers from St John's, so you'll be assigned to miss Harrison's department..However, I see here that mister Wendell Crumb has just been released from prison ? Who is mister Wendell Crumb ?"

A close cut man raises his hand with a slight smile.

" That would be me."

You smile back before checking something on your file.

" Fine. You'll be transferred to my department. However, I see here that you've got many names..May I ask who I am talking to ?"

Wendell Crumb suddely straightens up and stares right at you with a very unsettling smile.

" I'm Barry. Nice to meet you.."

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously before looking down at his file. Creepy smile. Judgy stare. Feminine stand..Yeah, definitely not Barry..

" I'm sorry, but in order for us to get along, honesty is the key..Now, could you please tell me who you really are ?"

The man's smile only widens as he congratulates you.

" Clever girl. I'm Patricia. Nice to meet you."

He then claps with both hands and you narrow your eyes, trying to figure the new patient out. He seems harmless enough, even though his file seems to suggest the contrary. A great pretender. After all the effort you had put in getting the patients to trust you, this one would surely bring chaos. You could already tell by just looking at him in the eyes: he wasn't here to get better.

You sigh before closing the file and signaling to the patient to follow you as Harrison enters. Wendell Crumb is almost too eager to follow you. You can feel his stare on you, as if he was sizing you up and down.

" The patients are eating, I suppose it is a good time to get acquainted with them and make some new friends. What do you think ?"

You smile and try to be nice to him, but he doesn't answer. He only huffs before looking away. You open the door to the cafeteria and feel the stare of all the slashers on you and the new arrival. Patricia seems to be doing a quick assessment of each slasher before finally landing on you.

" By what I heard, I thought I would be meeting fearless and bloodthirsty demons..But all I can see is a bunch of old-timers."

Your eyes widen in shock at his words and you can see some of the slashers tense. However, far from being intimidated, Kevin widely grins and seems to slouch slightly, taking another personality you guess.

" Hi guys ! I'm Hedwig ! I'm soooo excited to meet all of you ! Patricia said you were like us ! That's like, totally cool !"

To that, Freddy is the first to answer with a mocking smirk.

" Great. Another kid..Me who thought we would finally be enough to play poker. What a disappointment..Can he at least change his own grown-up diapers ?"

Suddenly, Hedwig's joyful expression shifts to a much serious one that glares daggers at Freddy.

" What did you say, steak face ?"

Oh oh. Freddy's expression darkens and he stands up to face Kevin that only arks an eyebrow at him, a silent challenge. One that Freddy is eager to respond to.

" What did you call me, baldie ?"

But, far from feeling intimidated, Kevin only stares down at him with a little smirk.

" You heard me, midget.."

You can feel the tension rising and put yourself between the two of them promptly.

" Hey ! That's enough ! Be nice ! And you.."

You turn towards Freddy with furrowed eyebrows, clearly displeased.

"..I told you to hold your tongue with them."

Freddy only humphs unhappily before getting out of your grip and glaring at Kevin that only grins defiantly at him.

" What ? That's it ? This is the infamous Freddy Krueger ? The bringer of nightmares and slayer of children ? I must admit that I am deeply disappointed.."

Patricia, she wants to rile him up. You quickly get another nurse to get Freddy to sit back down before he gives in to his violent impulses. You then glare at Kevin before taking him by the arm for him to follow you outside of the room.

" What are you trying to do exactly ?! Get killed ?!"

But, far from feeling guilty, Kevin's grin only widens as he stares directly back at you for several seconds, as if looking deep inside your soul..At the end, he pretends to be apologetic by raising his hands in surrender and finally giving some kind of explanation for his behavior.

" I'm sorry. I'm just feeling overwhelmed, garden variety issue..You understand. We mustn't let the bad seeds take roots, or we may end up with bad weed issues.."

At this, Pennywise that had followed you discreetly gets out of his hiding spot to growl menacingly at Kevin.

" Bad weed ?! Who are you calling bad weed, pal ?! I'll show you bad weed."

But one stern look from you, and Pennywise reconsiders. But, he is still glaring daggers at Kevin that only giggles maniacally while you get him back inside. However, he doesn't miss the way you instinctively hold on to the pendent hanging around your neck..What a strange necklace..? He turns his head towards the slashers that all seem on edge now, like a pack of wolves ready to attack. However, it's even worse when he suddenly takes you by the shoulders to smell you behind your ear, his gaze still fixed on the gang that seems ready to jump into action at any moment..Even Pennywise doesn't notice that he is munching on his spoon instead 9f his actual food. You try to get out of his grip, but he only tightens his grip on you as a response.

" What ? Are you all her lapdogs now ? I see the appeal..But still, to think she managed to have you all around her little finger..The strongest men on Earth, all submitting to that small bite."

As if to prove his point, he starts nibbling on the top of your ear, waiting for a reaction. However, before anyone could do anything, Kevin feels something piercing his skin and turns around to see a smirking Five with a needle in his hand.

" Nighty night."

Kevin collapses and you quickly kneel by his side to take his pulse. Thankfully, he's alive and you ask some nurses to bring him back to his room. You had agreed with the hospital not to use the collars unless it was a case of extreme emergency, looks like this could be one..

" Thank you, Five. But, dont use medical supplies without my permission again, okay ?"

He doesn't lose his smile before replying casually, hands in his pockets.

" Can't promise anything.."

The slashers are still staring at Kevin that is dragged out of the room. It takes you a while to reassure them that you're fine, even longer to convince yourself. However, Five seems even more suspicious than usual, he seems to be eager to return to his bedroom, and he was late for lunch..But, you don't have the time to worry about him. You finally manage to get them all to return to their bedrooms and walk inside your own. There, you let the mask fall and collapse on your bed, burying your face in a nearby pillow in order to muffle your tears and screams. Each time, you try to contain your own fear for the safety of the patients and yourself, but just with one touch, this new individual had made all of your walls crumble. However, you have to get it together, you couldn't let the other patients see you like this..You get up and cough a bit before cleaning yourself up. You then open the door, not expecting all the patients tumbling inside as they were listening in..You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

" What did I say about listening on doors ?"

They all stand up and look at everything but your face or simply try to justify themselves.

" Look, hon..We were only worried..Kinda ?"

Freddy tries to explain, but you take a big inspiration before stepping out. This is just what you needed: serial killers worrying about you.

" It's the hour of your medication. How about Michael and Five come to help me in the kitchen while you wait in the your rooms ?"

You finally decide to ignore Freddy and are surprised when Arthur takes you gently by the arm so you can look up at them.

"Hey, don't shut us down. Freddy is right, we were only worried."

You eyes soften at their genuine concern, but you quickly shake the feeling away. You had faced far worse, but this patient scared you the most..because he had attacked you as if he already knew, as if he knew who you were before you even introduced yourself. You will have to keep a close eye on that one, that's for sure. Fortunately, the patients hadn't reacted too extremely, or it would have turned bad, very very bad..You don't know why the hospital had suddenly decided to add another patient, but one thing is for sure, this new patient wasn't transferred here, he was sent here with a purpose. Now, your goal is to discover whatever purpose that is. You are on your way to his room when you realize something..You hadn't seen Jason all morning. He wasn't there for lunch either. You feel cold sweat running down your back when you suddenly hear some fighting noises. You run in the direction of the sounds and are shocked to see Jason, Five and, surprisingly, Klaus in Kevin's room. You don't have the time to ask what the last one is here that Jason takes Kevin by his shirt and throws him through the window.

You look at Five for an explanation, but he doesn't look at you and looks at the broken window instead.

" Did he just..?"

" Yup. He just did.."

Klaus confirms before turning towards you with a small awkward smile.

" Can someone please explain to me why a civilian is here and why Jason just threw Kevin out of the damn window ?!"

You exclaim and for once, Five is speechless and it's his brother that decides to step up to explain the situation to you.

" Hi. I'm Klaus, Five's older brother and I was about to help him escape until we heard noises of a fight outside. We got out and saw a bold man talking and fighting our dear sweet Jason that threw said man flying through the window. Literally."

Your eyes widen at the news of his planned escape and then look at Five with a confused frown. The idea of escaping wasn't what surprised you the most, but why would he want to leave now ? However, before you could ask, Jason, who is clearly upset, pushes right past you with angry groans and an uneven breathing. You give a stern look at Five, clearly signifying that this discussion isn't over before running after Jason before he could murder Kevin. When you get out, you see that all of the slashers had encircled Kevin that seems angrier than ever.

" I'll kill you all !"

He shouts, but Freddy only cackles while leaning against the wall, with the sunglasses you had given him sitting on his nose, and Pennywise that has a bowl of popcorn in his hands.

" Come on, Jason ! We'll enjoy the massacre..There are no witnesses. Just show that clown who's the boss ! No offense.."

He quickly adds at the end to Pennywise that only smirks before fist-bumping him.

" None taken."

You run to stand between the two huge men that don't seem to even notice you. You look at Michael for help, but he only crosses his arms, clearly implying that he wouldn't interfere. Great..You think before turning towards the devil you know, your hands outstretched towards him.

" Stop, Jason. Please. This is not you. Whatever he told you, it is not worth this. You will be punished, severely. They will maybe not kill you, but they will lock you away, somewhere nobody will ever find you again.."

Jason seems to finally snap out of it and you smile when he takes your hand and yanks you forward with his supernatural strength. You chuckle, relieved while he hugs you. But then, you hear a loud sound behind you and turn around swiftly to see..Brahms ?! Brahms just took Kevin by the throat to crash the back of his head against the concrete and his hands are now around his throat, squeezing painfully tight. You run towards them and try to get Brahms to let go, but he only tightens his grip on him as you yell.

" Let go, Brahms ! What are you doing ?! I said let go !"

But he doesn't listen to you, even worse, he gives you a hard blow to the stomach with his elbow that knocks all air out of your lungs. However, you still find the strength to get up and this is when Brahms finally shouts furiously.

" He took my doll !"

You are surprised how he managed to form a whole sentence without stammering and also horrified by the news. Brahms' doll is Brahms' most precious possession, no wonder he wants to kill Kevin. But then, Kevin laughs and spits blood on Brahms' mask.

" Idiot. You kill me, you won't get the doll and they'll throw you in the darkest deepest hole they can find.."

You know that he is telling the truth and look at Brahms that doesn't seem to be willing to stop. You take a big breath before finally taking out the pendent they had offered you. You hold it tightly in your hand before ordering Brahms to stop.

" Stop, Brahms ! Let him go ! Now !"

Suddenly, as if under some kind of transe, Brahms straightens up and finally releases Kevin. Brahms then slowly turns towards you and walks to you until he is barely a few inches away from you and leans in so close you can hear his hectic breathing. You almost fear for your life and hold on to the pendent even tighter.

However, he only humphs and walks away. You look up and, for once, see the disappointment in the different slashers' eyes. They all saw what happened, what you used to control Brahms.

" I..I didn't want to.."

But it's too late, the damage is done. The Joker, that had stayed silent so far, suddenly bursts our laughing, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes as he tells you bitterly.

" You know why Jason attacked Kevin ? Because he said that you were using us..Looks like he wasn't so wrong after all.."

He walks past you, not even giving you a second glance. You turn towards the rest of the slashers that seem either angry or even fearful of you.

" P..Penny..?"

You try to extend your hand towards Penny that is eyeing you warily and who growls warningly at you when your hand is too close. Suddenly, a hand snatches yours to yank you backwards.

" Back off, lady !"

Pennywise cautions you, his eyes glowing yellow in the dark. However, suddenly, some armed forces enter the yard and get out tazers to restrain the patients. You see one of the guards tackle Pennywise to the ground. To your horror, Penny bites the guard's shoulder that screams loudly in pain. Before you could say anything, another guard shoots some tranquilizers at the Penny that collapses.

" No..No !"

You run towards Penny and cradle his face with tears in your eyes. It wasn't supposed to go this way. What had gone wrong ? You look up at Pennywise that is now restrained and muzzled. He tries to break free to reach Penny, but the guards won't let him.

" Pennywise..I'm..I'm so s.."

But he glares at you and cuts you off harshly.

" Nah. Save your breath, princess.."

Pennywise says while eyeing you up and down with new-found disdain, even Freddy is not smiling anymore. The slashers are brought back inside with shackles and you feel your lower lip quivering. You didn't want to use the pendent, but he was going to kill Kevin and..You look back to see that Kevin is smiling. He even dares giggles when some guards come to take him away.

" Rejoice ! You are of the worthy ! You are broken !"

You don't understand and frown in confusion, but he doesn't add anything. You sigh deeply before getting back inside as well, you had to make it up to them..somehow.

" You really think it's a good idea ? We aren't even sure that Kevin will be able to accomplish his mission."

But the woman, far from being worried, only puffs out a cloud of smoke and replies with a confident smile.

" Believe me, John. It will work..Soon, we'll have the slashers at our mercy. They'll be our little tin soldiers. And nothing will be able to stop us, brother.."

[euovennia]

Mate

Summary: In which Carlisle finds his mate with the subtle guidance of Alice.

Pairing: fem!reader x Carlisle Cullen

Word Count: 1,860

"Slow down, Alice! There's no need to be this excited, it's just skating." Rosalie remarked with a bored expression as she and the rest of the Cullen family struggled to keep up with the tiny woman.

"Maybe it is just skating, but we haven't had a family outing like this in forever, Rose! Trust me when I say this is good for us, it'll be unforgettable." Alice spoke, a mix of mischief and excitement glimmering in her golden eyes. Jasper came towering beside her and wrapped an arm around her small frame, "Just what are you planning, darlin'?" Alice only smiled before quickly escaping his grasp and continuing bouncing her way toward the entrance of the skating rink as the small group attempted to rid themselves of the uncomfortable nagging feeling in the back of their minds.

Something was going to happen, but no one knew what.

With the door held open by Alice, the family quickly filed into the building before being dragged over to the check-out counter where an older man stood hunched over the counter as he kept his eyes trained on a small TV in the corner of the counter. His calm exterior fumbled momentarily as the sound of the entrance door slamming shut behind the rather large group snapped him out of his focus. He quickly straightened himself out as he painted a warm smile onto his face, "Well hello there folks, what can I do for you?"

At this, Alice quickly pushed a surprised Carlisle to the front of the group. Feeling awkward, he quickly clasped his hands in front of him as he looked directly at the man who was patiently awaiting a response, "Hello. My family and I were interested in doing some skating. Perhaps for an hour or two."

The man turned to look down at his wristwatch before changing his attention to Carlisle once again, "Of course, but I have to say that there's gonna be about a ten-minute wait. I can get you all situated with your skates and take you down to the observation room while you wait. If that's alright, of course."

Carlisle glanced back at his family and upon receiving one enthusiastic reply from Alice and a shrug from Edward before he turned to the man, "Yes, that'll work out fine."

With their skates in hand, the Cullen clan followed the man down a long, brightly lit hallway before reaching a set of worn-in blue metal doors. The doors let out a loud creak as they were pushed open by the man. As the group filed inside the cold room, they were met with an intensely fast-paced tune composed of numerous cellos. They glanced at one another, the uncomfortable feeling slowly beginning to blossom in their bodies further with the exception of Alice who stood there with a large, expectant grin on her pale face. Realization dawned on Rosalie as she caught sight of her sister's face and she harshly grabbed her wrist as she spoke in a low tone, "What the hell are we doing here, Alice?" Ignoring her harsh, venom-filled tone Alice only shrugged. Huffing, Rosalie returned to Emmett's side as she crossed her arms. Sensing the tension that was growing between his adoptive children, Carlisle turned to the old man who was looking out a window that was faced outward toward the skating rink. "Is there a specific reason for the music?"

The man looked back at Carlisle and wordlessly motioned him to stand by his side. Carlisle furrowed his brows together in slight confusion but walked over by the man as requested. Eyes focused on the glass window in front of him, Carlisle watched as a woman feverishly skated around the rink with a heightened sense of grace and elegance that could rival that of his own family. He found himself enthralled with the precise and quick movements coming from the mysterious woman and found himself letting out an unnecessary breath as he asked, "Who is that?"

The old man kept his eyes trained on the woman's skating figure as he answered, "I don't know much about her if I'm being honest. All I know is that she's a pro skater and that her coach is pretty strict." Carlisle reluctantly tore his gaze away from the woman and glued them to the man beside him, "Coach?" The man nodded as he turned to face Carlisle fully, "Yeah. That guy over there." He spoke as he lamely motioned to the left side of the rather large rink. Carlisle's gaze settled on a well-built man with medium brown hair that was immaculately styled with calculating and judgmental eyes that seemed to rake over every movement of the female skater.

As Carlisle's gaze went to settle on the woman once again, he was pulled from his thoughts as his adoptive children had grown an apparent interest in Carlisle's overly observant attitude. "What're you looking at, pops?" Emmett spoke loudly causing Carlisle to cringe at both the nickname and volume of his voice. "Nothing, Emmett. Just looking around the rink is all." Rosalie scoffed, "Seems to me like you were checking out something special," Her gaze quickly turned to the woman who was effortlessly gliding across the ice, "Or someone." It was at this moment where Carlisle knew that if he was still capable of blushing, his face would be on fire. "She seems to be very talented, it's eye-catching." Esme gently defended. "Well, the music is a bit obnoxious." Rosalie muttered. "A flair for the dramatics never hurt anyone." Edward mused. "Oh please, all you know how to do is be dramatic." Rosalie fired back, her annoyance growing with each passing second.

Carlisle watched the scene unfold in front of him with weariness in his eyes as he gave a small nod toward Jasper who then unleashed a subtle calming effect on everyone present. Unable to fight back the sudden wave of calmness she felt, Rosalie let out a deep breath before walking away with Emmett trailing behind her, ready to calm her down further if needed. Relaxing his posture slightly, he turned to face the old man. "I apologize. My family, unfortunately, do not see eye to eye on everything." The man simply waved off his apology. "I used to be a family man myself. No worries. Anyhow, I best be getting back to the front desk. As soon as those two get out, feel free to hop on in." He said before giving the family a departing wave and walking away.

Carlisle watched him disappear behind the rusty blue doors before directing his attention back to the now-empty ice rink. He felt his undead heart fall to the pit of his stomach as one question raced through his mind: Where did she go?

His question was quickly answered as the doors leading to the rink opened and the man and woman walked in speaking in what Carlisle could make out to be French-based on his rather limited knowledge. He watched with great interest as the man and woman went back and forth with their conversation.

"Vous vous déplacez trop lentement dans certains domaines. Vous devez l'accélérer." (tr: You move too slow in some areas. You need to speed it up.) The man spoke, his tone a bit rough and body language that gave off the impression that he was annoyed. The woman seemed a bit exasperated as she responded, "Je sais que oui, mais je me sens épuisé. Donnez-moi juste un jour de repos, c'est tout ce dont j'ai besoin. Je serai mieux après, je te le promets!" (tr: I know I do, but I feel exhausted. Just give me one rest day, that's all I need. I'll be better after, I promise!) Once finished speaking, the man turned to her and shoved a finger in her face as he spoke quickly and sternly, an annoyed expression present on his face. "Non. Vous ne vous améliorez qu'avec une pratique constante. Pas de jours de repos pour vous. Arrête de demander." (tr: No. You only get better with consistent practice. No rest days for you. Stop asking.) The woman seemed disheartened by his attitude as she crossed her arms and simply nodded. The man let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, "Pardon. Juste ... Habillez-vous. Nous devons partir." (tr: Sorry. Just...Get dressed. We need to leave.) The man tore his gaze from the woman in front of him and was surprised to see a large group of pale people awkwardly trying to pretend as though they weren't just eavesdropping. A light pink color dusted his cheeks as he pulled his jacket closer to his frame. "My apologies. Just a small disagreement. Have fun on the ice." He said, an awkward smile on his face as he walked out of the cold room.

With the door slamming shut behind him, the woman looked up at the family, her eyes quickly moving over the appearance of all of them, her gaze lingering on a certain blonde doctor for a second longer before speaking, "Sorry to take up all the ice. It's just that people normally don't come here." At the sound of her soft voice, Carlisle looked away from the door where the man had once gone through and fixed his eyes on the beauty in front of him.

She had dark brown hair that was thrown up to an elegantly messy bun with two fallen wisps of hair that worked to frame her face perfectly. Her eyes were a few shades lighter than her hair whereas her perfectly arched eyebrows matched her hair color perfectly. He found himself admiring her long eyelashes that beautifully fluttered with every blink and her long, slim nose that sat perfectly on her face. He admired the light pink color that stained her lips and cheeks, a glorious reminder for Carlisle of the humanity that remained within the woman before him.

"Dad!"

Carlisle looked over at Alice who had a knowing grin on her face as she motioned with her head toward the woman. He looked back at her, "I just wanted to know if you were alright. You seemed a little...Out of it."

At the sound of her melodic voice, Carlisle gave her a warm smile. "Yes. I do that sometimes. Sorry to concern you." The woman returned his smile as she spoke, "It's fine. We all have our moments." Carlisle nodded as his smile stayed painted on his face. After a few moments, the woman spoke again, "It was nice seeing you all, but I must get going. Have fun." Carlisle's face fell at her admission and he nearly reached out to stop her but restrained himself from doing so. "Of course. Have a wonderful day." With a final smile, she gave the group a nod of acknowledgment before taking her leave.

"What was that?" Jasper spoke once the doors shut behind the woman. Carlisle could feel his undead heart clench as he uttered the next two words,

"My mate."

[fandom-monium]

I JUST READ KITCHEN CATASTROPHES OMG ITS SOOO CUTE UGH MY HEART SO SOFT CAN YOU PLSSS DO A PART 2? THANK YOU KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DO

AN: thank you, anon! i dont plan to make a sequel to KC. But if i did:

For Valentine’s Day

Summary: In which you throw a wrench in Spencer’s plans: you don’t like Valentine’s Day. “If it’s with you, I guess it’s not so bad.”

WC: 2.9k (whoops)

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, semi anti-valentines day, Spencer tears up but dont worry were there to fix that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, post-For the Holidays

Fuck cooking, Spencer thinks one day.

It's an irrational thought. The kind that strikes through his mind in a flash of irritation like a scrape of the knee as he is perusing the internet. Yes, he is using a computer willingly. He has to because he's desperate.

Cooking is stupid. Who really needs it, right?

…

He needs it. God, he needs it so bad.

His need to learn cooking wasn't as incessant until recently. Until you came along.

Spencer is a meticulous person and a romantic if you'd ever met one. Makes sense considering how he grew up, reading the classics and all that. He's read all the gooey literary shit old people write and while he never understood those meanings it all dawned on him one day. Quotes written like 'the stars in their eyes' and 'sunshine glowing off them like a halo', suddenly makes sense once he meets you. Or at least, after coming to know you, months into your newfound friendship.

It's because of this he plans accordingly the weeks leading up to Valentine's day! Because again he's meticulous and a romantic and a genius so he plans every step and makes a back up plan in case A, B, and C fall through.

Is he going overboard? 

… Nah. No way. Not when it comes to you.

But fuck with a capital F, man.

It's your third date. Or what is supposed to be your third date if you would just stop being you for a second.

Then again, he loves you a lot and he wouldn't love you if you weren't, well, you.

Although—pardon his french—what the fuck. 

Spencer knows he needs to learn to cook. You've tried plenty of times to teach him and he loves learning and he especially loves it when you are the teacher (wait, does he have a teacher/student fantasy? Maybe. That’s something he'll look into later. Preferably with you). 

Unfortunately, he's terrible at it.

He's made progress and he knows it's true because you said so but the miniscule progress he's made is. Not. Enough. And it's all your fault! Because he gets so distracted by you during your lessons, like when you put your hands over his to show him proper slicing techniques—holy fuck, he wanted to combust right there—or just watching your deft hands at work, lips and brow scrunched in concentration in that adorable way. And you smell like cooking oil or whatever you're making and you're hot.

He's so into you it physically hurts. Ugh. How is he so lucky? 

You're also the first person he's been this into since Maeve. And everyone knows how well that turned out.

So he tries to dial it down for Valentine’s Day. Morgan told him once he tends to throw himself into everything he does, including love. And when you two got together, he promised the universe he will not fuck this up. He ends up combining Morgan’s advice with Luke’s, trying to be casual like Luke says because apparently you're just as into him as he is of you. 

The thought makes him grin uncontrollably. Luke says it makes him look like a clown but a lovesick clown. A lovefool, Luke hehs.

Spencer doesn’t get the joke, but it does nothing to deter him.

As Luke advised, Spencer does “not” make a dozen back up plans and does “not" plan weeks in advance. Because that wouldn't be casual, would it?

But now the day’s come and as Valentine’s Day turns to Valentine’s Night, Spencer wants to pull his hair, rub his frustratedly stinging eyes but he can't because he's in the middle of work, in the middle of the bullpen, in the middle of his desk and he refuses to be that guy. Not again.

Why does he feel like sobbing? Like a loser? 

Because you don't like Valentine’s Day. No, you abhor it.

It happens in the middle of the work day. It's like he tried to open a door only for a bucket of ice water to be dumped on him and now he looks like a drowned rat. He definitely feels like one.

You're talking with Garcia about her Valentine’s Day plans as you multitask, switching between putting together packets and stacking them aside. Then taking them under the hole-puncher and stapling them together because the BAU isn't all kicking down doors and catching freaks. 

It makes sense that you’re chatting with Garcia during your break. The two of you have become two peas in a pod after you came out of your shell. Now you're inseparable. Only you make Garcia leave her batcave as much as she does now.

Out of sight, he catches tidbits of your conversation when he hears distinctively: Fuck Valentine’s Day.

Okay, you didn't say that verbatim but you might as well have, grimacing as you three hole-punch a packet and his heart. Then a nail on his coffin only it’s with a stapler. 

Thump. Chick.

Spencer winces; there goes your his Valentine’s Day plans. 

It shouldn't sting as much as it does. You've been dating for over a month and Valentine’s Day is definitely not his favorite holiday either. It's not even top 3. And as you rant he can’t help but silently nod in agreement, all the facts straight: yes, it's an eyesore. Yes, it's a capitalistic holiday. Yes, people should do nice things for their significant others no matter the time and not because it's expected on a specific day. Yes, it doesn't compare to Halloween—

The thing is, you two aren't that “couple-y”, at least in a traditional sense. Not like Will and JJ who got a babysitter so they could go out or like Luke and Garcia as they plan to go to a special Valentine’s Day event she wants to check out (she vehemently denies anything going on between them but he doesn't need to be a genius to see the affection they have for one another. Just kiss already, damn).

So yeah, Spencer hoped to spend the romantic holiday with you. For once, he'd have Valentine’s Day plans, aside from exchanging cards with the team and his mother.

But apparently you hate Valentine’s Day! So there goes plan A, B, C, and D!

Spencer feels the tears spring at the corner of his eyes. He sniffs as subtly as he can, raising an open case file to his face. Of all the plans he hadn't thought through this was not one of them. IQ 187, his ass.

He should've known. Or at least ask your thoughts on Valentine’s Day. That was inconsiderate on his part. He blinks back tears, withdrawing into himself despite his hurt because he is a lovefool and only for you. He just wants to impress you, make you happy even if that means canceling your first Valentine’s Day together.

Now if you'll excuse him, he has to call off a few reservations and make some returns. Several actually.

Can you return a dozen donuts in the shape of hearts?

… Yeah, he better ask Emily for the rest of the day off.

—

"Hey Newb, have you seen Spencer? I haven't seen him since his break," You ask, resting your chin in your hand as you squint at another form. Your eyes are beginning to tire. 

Spencer asked you several times over the course of the last week, checking to see if you were free today. You are, so you planned to hang with him after work, but he hasn't returned from his break and he wasn't answering your calls or texts. Not unusual but still odd for your boyfriend (you still can’t believe you get to say that).

Luke sighs, his smooth voice reaching over your shared divider, "You know at some point I'm just not going to respond. You guys can’t call me Newbie forever."

"Keep telling yourself that," You snort without looking up.

Another sigh and you smirk: you win.

"For your information," Luke grumbles, words punctuated with sass, "Doc went home."

You pause. "Home?" He didn't tell you.

"Yeah, probably to get ready for your date."

"Our date?" You frown and stand up, leaning over the divider to see if Luke’s fucking with you.

He isn't. Luke shrugs, humming wistfully as he rests his cheek in his hand, "You should've seen how excited he was, being it your first Valentine's Day and all. I told him to chill out because you'll love whatever it is no matter what but I'm sure he ignored that and planned something spectacular for you guys." Sitting back, he twirls around in his chair.

You grimace, recalling your earlier conversation with Garcia. 

Shit.

"Meanwhile, I have to spend Galentine's Day with Garcia because all the ladies of the BAU are taken and I have nothing better to do—" Luke comes to a full 720, catching the tail end of your coat as you whip it on and make for the door. "—um, excuse you?"

"If Emily asks, I had an emergency!" You manage to call back, throwing open the glass door.

"Okay?"

"Thanks, Newb!"

As the elevator door dings shut with you inside, leg jumping because you have a sneaking suspicion you fucked up, Luke slouches in his chair and grumbles.

He's not a newb. Or a newbie.

—

You rush over to Spencer's, catching your breath as you stumble to his front door. There's shuffling from inside, the faint sound of clanking and crashing and your heart swells because this is the man you’ve fallen for, the first one you've ever felt this way for. Here he is, being all considerate and romantic. And here you are, fucking it up when your relationship’s barely even started.

God, you're an asshole, you berate yourself as you turn the doorknob and push open the door. You're an asshole you're an asshole you’re an asshole—

Then your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. 

Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth and nose as your favorite scented candles hit you like someone shoved a bouquet in your face. The description isn't too far off considering there's a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers still in its wrapping, haphazardly set next to a dozen donuts on the coffee table like no one's business. Its petals are strewn across the floor, a few in tiny piles like they were hastily swept to the side. Red and pink and dark green fill your vision.

Who gutted Cupid and tossed his organs around, holy fu-

"(Your name)?"

Startled, you crane your head to find Spencer, beautiful hair askew and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he clutches flowers to his chest. In his other hand, he grips the colored strings of several shiny red and pink balloons in the shape of hearts and—fuck—your heart might actually float up from your chest and into your eyes.

This is your man. Your partner. Your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend panics, fumbling for a second before stuffing the balloons and trimmed flowers back into the room behind him and slamming the door shut. He turns back to you, eyes wide.

"What-what are you doing here?" Spencer stammers, wringing his hands together.

You blink at him, dumbly holding up your phone. "You-uh-you left early and didn't return my calls."

"I'm sorry. I think I left my phone at work," Probably because he left in such a rush, Spencer groans, looking anywhere but you. The petals scattered over his floor are quite pretty in this light. "And I was a bit busy."

"I'm sure you were," You gawk openly at the strings of fairy lights hung around his living room. It's a clash of aesthetics. Spencer always rocked dark academia, but despite how ugly the combination of red and pink decorations with his nature green walls and dark wood is, it leaves his apartment a little brighter, a little cozier, and you love it.

You love everything about this.

But as you take in the ugly beauty of it all, Spencer fidgets at the doorway, mistaking your awe as shock and disgust. Wiping sweaty palms on his trousers, his eyes dart around, trying to focus on something, but every place he lays his eyes on makes him cringe. He catches all the things he couldn't clean up or put away in time. No doubt you do too. All the leftover flower petals, the donuts he can’t return, candles that haven’t blown out because he has the lungs of an 8-year old asthmatic. 

Spencer can't imagine how appalled you are.

And the longer your silence stretches on, the more nervous he gets so he blurts out, "I'm so sorry, (Your Name)!"

Your brow shoots up as he begins to ramble.

"You must hate this. I'll put everything away."

"You really don't have to—" You stop him, and your heart nearly crumbles as Spencer's does when he finally meets your worried gaze. 

His eyes gleam with unshed tears. He swallows, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Doc—"

"At least not without asking you—"

"Doctor—"

"I understand if you want to break up—" His voice cracks, as if the idea itself will destroy him (it definitely will). 

"Spencer—" His voice, wobbly and dripping with unnecessary guilt, draws you to him.

"But I want you to know that I—"

With an exasperated sigh, you grab his hand as yours finds the nape of his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. 

For a second, Spencer doesn't respond because who kisses the person they're about to break up with? Strange, really. But then he kisses you back. His hands remain frozen, unsure of where he stands, but he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. He figures this is a new social cue he has yet to learn. And if this is the last time you kiss him, he'll treasure every second of it, take whatever you'll give him because again he's a lovefool for you. 

And when you pull back, he's too dazed he nearly misses the look you give him. Suddenly, he can’t breathe.

You look at him like he hung the stars instead of cheap fairy lights around his apartment. 

Spencer’s confused. "I-I... Wha—"

"I'm not breaking up with you," You chuckle, and you nearly burst out laughing as genuine puzzlement takes over his face. You tug him behind you, plopping yourselves on his couch. You smile, appreciating the way he organized the cushions and throw-pillows; there's now space for two people to lay down.

You take a breath. "You wanna know why I don't like Valentine’s Day?"

Spencer slouches, though his body is angled towards you so you suppose that's good. He sighs, "Because it's a capitalistic holiday that reinforces the idea of doing the bare minimum…"

He begins listing your reasons, and your eyes soften. Of course he listened and remembered even if you mentioned it offhandedly.

You nod once he finishes. "Yes but before that—and I can't believe I'm telling you this—back when I was a little kid, I didn’t get any Valentines."

Spencer's brow furrows at the newfound information. You continue, "I'd get some from my friends and stuff but that's not what Valentine's Day is about. At least not when you're a kid. When you’re a dumb kid, it’s about couples and romantic shit, and I didn't really have any of that growing up." You purse your lips and glance away, face flushed with embarrassment. It's really not that big a deal, but putting it into words makes the idea seem more intimate and personal.

It takes a moment for your words to sink in as Spencer can't believe his ears. How could you not have been showered with love and affection and presents on Valentines Day? It's like water doesn't make things wet or fire doesn't produce heat; it just doesn't make sense. Because you deserve that much and more.

"So every Valentine's Day, I lowered my expectations and eventually I stopped caring. I'd tell myself those things and I started to believe them," You bite your lip, eyes crinkling as you give Spencer a sheepish smile. "But now I have you."

At that, Spencer returns your smile, letting you take his hand. Any tears he had seem to evaporate instantly.

“So, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I stand by what I said before, Valentine’s Day sucks. But if it’s with you,” Blushing deeply, you play with Spencer's hand, large and veins defined compared to yours, shrugging, “I guess it’s not so bad.”

Spencer’s smile broadens, and he intertwines your fingers together. "So what you’re saying is, you don’t hate this?” He looks around his living room.

You shake your head, unable to stop the grin crossing your lips. “No. In fact, very much the opposite. Honestly, thank you for this, it’s beautiful. I have no words.” You breathe it all in; the candles, the flowers, the— Your nose wrinkles and you snort, “Did you burn something?”

Bashfully looking down, he scratches his chin. “I-uh-tried to make your favorite dishes. Though, I was hoping the candles and flowers would mask it.”

You giggle and pull him into you, snuggling into his side. “That’s okay. I’d much rather have you anyway.”

With Spencer a blushing, stuttering mess in your arms, head resting on your chest, you press a kiss to his hair and conclude; yeah, you don’t like Valentine’s Day. 

But you sure as hell love Spencer more.

—

AN:  FtH status: finished - 7/5. yes 7.

I realize this was not what anon requested but oh well i wrote this at 2 am 

I’m not that anti v day but i stand by the capitalistic aspect.

yes this takes place after For the Holidays.

also included luke bc hes my bro and i honestly think he deserves so much more than what the show gave also garvez ftw

happy post valentine’s day!!

Song: Lovefool by The Cardigans

[milkytheholy1]

5 years alternative ending

Okay okay, yes i know i shouldnt but i just really wanted to see if theres a way to possibly get an alternate ending to 5 years? I love it but i just cant stip the idea of them traveling in the future and there a sweet babes sitting in there bouncer excited to see dad and dang fam im a sucker for the idea of him seeing they have a dmaily in the future. If you dont wanna fo this i compeletly understand

A/N: It’s weird how many people have asked me for them to have kids, but I guess if that’s what you guys want to see then here is a short version 2, if you will, of five years. Be sure to read the original or it won’t really make much sense, this is just the ending. Enjoy!

TMNT masterlist

Ultimate masterlist

Read the original

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The frames broken, if we didn’t actually move from your lab then I can go fix them.”

“Only one way to find out then, huh?” Donnie spoke, his hand trembling as he turned the door. He couldn’t focus on one exact feeling at the moment, was he flustered from you being so close to him, excited that he could have possibly just discovered the key to time travel or completely nervous about…well…everything. Stepping back as best you could, you watched as Donnie slowly opened the metal door. The light from the room beamed into the darkened pod, blinding you instantly before soon adjusting. Donnie took the first step out, not saying a word, perhaps he was in awe that he actually time-travelled; the guy was probably speechless.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, the lab, his lab, was…baby-proofed? Plug sockets were covered, his dangerous tools were placed on high shelves, screws and nails were filed away safely; Donnie had never seen his lab so clean and organised. You came around him, marvelling at the clean lab, “This is definitely not your lab,” you joked, running your finger over the spotless desk.

“What’s that meant to mean? My labs clean,” he argued with a pout, but all debates fell silent when he picked up a photograph on his desk; a family photograph to be more specific. His brothers were wrapped with their arms over each other, Master Splinter in the middle of them, you and Donnie were stood off to the side with two smaller turtles by your feet. Who were they?

Little pitter-patters of feet echoed around the lair, child-like laughter accompanying it. You glanced at Donnie with a raised brow, “Okay, your brothers are pretty stealthy but there is no way their footsteps are that light.” he could only nod in agreement. Donnie wasn’t a moron, quite the opposite, in fact, he could easily put together one and two to make three.

“(Y/N)?” he spoke, his tone unnerving. You looked at him lost, you could tell from the panic in his eyes that he was deep in thought, wandering around the caverns of his mind. First, there was the baby-proofing of his lab, the light footsteps and high laughter from outside, but the icing on the cake was the photograph. They had your eyes.

“Mommy, daddy! Barb is painting on the walls again!” Marie cried, slowly edging the lab doors open until she could squeeze her small body through. She tumbled into the lab with a sense of urgency, practically beaming when she caught you and Donnie just stood there. She rangled your leg around her arms, jostling you a small bit as she tattled on her sister.

“I-what?” you muttered out, lost for words. You quickly glanced at Donnie, a similar expression on his face, a look of anxiety but curiosity. Next another small turtle barrelled into the room, her hands covered in red and blue paint, her shell coated in purple blobs, “Look daddy, I made your favourite colour!” she mused, showcasing her purple fingertips at him. All Donnie could do was nod, the reality of these being your children slowly settling into his mind.

Both kids looked confused, why weren’t their parents responding to them? “Mommy?” Marie called out, tugging on the fabric of your jeans, startled you looked down at her with a wobbly smile. She stretched her hands out to you implying she wanted to be picked up, which you did, you stared at her face, studying all the familiar details. Her eyes were just like Donnie’s: rich golds and deep yellows encased with an added sparkle, she had freckles lining her snout, eyelashes long and curled just right; she even had a little gap on the top row of her teeth, just like Donnie.

Marie frowned at you again, “Mommy why aren’t you saying anything?” she pouted, arms crossing over her chest, adorable was a word that came to mind. “Oh ok, well, what did your…sister do?” Marie darted a glare at her sister, Barb, before replying to you in a snooty manner “She was painting over the walls.” she declared. Painting? You loved painting!

Barb made grabby hands to Donatello, wanting to be picked up like her sister. Donnie complied, albeit with reluctance, he tried to keep her messy hands away from him but soon his shoulder were red and blue; eliciting a small giggle from you.

“Oh you think this is funny?” he teased, a small smirk sketched onto his face. You nodded your head meekly, “I do,” you beamed. Donnie shared a look with the child in his arms, his beak going to her ear to whisper his devious plan, she clapped her hands in excitement, eyes going wide; “Got it!” He placed her back on the floor and immediately she rushed over to you, her hands splattered on your jeans leaving small handprints stained onto the fabric. You put Mariie back on the floor as you made an attempt to run behind Donnie, he simply grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to take the brunt; a wicked grin on his lips.

Eventually, Barb stopped and rested against the floor, her painted-covered hands drying up. Your claw-like grip on Donnie's shoulder was released earning a sigh of relief from the terrapin, you gazed into his eyes, full of love and hope for the future. You couldn't believe this is what your life would turn out like, a small family, a husband, children. You really did it all!

"Why do you guys go find your...uncles, I'm sure they'll paint with you." Donnie offered, crouching down enough to be eye-level with them. The two girls screamed and made a dash for the lab door, stumbling as they went, "I call dibs on Uncle Mikey!" Marie shouted. Barb wasn't that far behind her, you were only now able to see the mass amount of paint on her shell and legs, "Nooo Marie, you don't even like art!" she wailed.

Once they left a feeling of peace enveloped the lab, you could feel a warmth spread through your hand at the touch of Donatello's. "So?" he mused, "So?" you replied with a grin, "We seem to have a pretty good life waiting for us here, huh?"

"You got that right," you cheered following him back to the time travel pod. Shuffling into the tight space, you questioned who named the children: "Marie?"

"Marie Curie," the name rolled off of his tongue, he turned his head to you the best he could, "Barb?"

"Barbara Kruger," you replied with ease.

[happys-crazy-queen22]

The Touch Of A Shay Sister

Gif credit @cookiesordeath & @lorybest-aka-frizzza.

In the second gif I see Shay dancing like that at the readers reception.

Requested by @writerwithasoul. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the request.

Happy Reading Dollies.

Taglist. @nocturnalherb16 @jesseswartzwelder

Teasing Antonio was no problem. He would melt in your hand if you kissed or touched him in a sexual way. But for the last few days he's been off. Trying to avoid you and your touch. Something was up and you needed to know what.

"Oh babycakes"? You purred strutting over to Antonio's desk. He was concentrating on a file in his hand. His eyes never leaving the print.

"Antonio Dawson, you better look at me when I'm talking to you". You came up behind him. Your hands on his shoulders, massaging his tight muscles slightly whimpering in his ear. "God daddy, you're so wound up. Let me help you relax". Your hands started to travel down his chest. Feeling the ripples from his pecks and ribs. His body tenses up from your touch.

"Y/N"! Antonio scorned quite loudly as the others looked at him, oddly. You couldn't help but giggle.

"Stop. We are at work, you need to behave. I'm serious". Antonio jerked up out of his chair and  fixed his shirt aggressively.

"Well, someone didn't get the memo". You sucked on your bottom lip as yours and Antonio's eyes went down to the tent growing in his pants. He quickly covered it with his hands. A blush crept along his cheeks.

Licking your lips walking over to him. "This is what you get for teasing me and not holding up your end". The whisper in Antonio's ear sent chills down his spine. He wanted you so freaking bad but he made a promise to someone.

"Y/N Shay, you need to go do your work. Now". Antonio gulped as you faced him. His eyes fluttered down and saw your breast was inches away from his chest.

"Okay. If you say so, Mr. Dawson". You turned on your heels, your

hair hitting Antonio in the face. Your shampoo filling Antonio's nostrils, making him kick himself for turning you away.

The last couple hours were hell for Antonio. When he looked up, he didnt see you glancing at him or sticking your tongue out at him. Nothing. You were totally cold to him and he felt horrible because he couldnt tell you the truth.

When work was over Antonio rushed to his car, not saying anything to you. He put the car in drive and headed to the firehouse. That's what he couldn't tell you.

"Shay, I think I may have made her mad". Antonio was telling your sister Leslie about what happened at work.

"She'll be fine. She can withstand from sex for awhile". Shay laughed.

"Are you kidding? She is punishing me. Today she wore this sexy tight skirt with a white blouse and a black bra. To torture me. I couldnt do anything about it. I am so wound up when I'm around her.  I'm going to explode". Antonio paced the cement, chewing his bottom lip. His pants still just as tight with the tent in his pants, if not tighter.

"Oh gag. You want to marry my sister, right"?

"Yes. I love her more than anything". Antonio sat down at the picnic table in front of Shay.

"Then I think you two can stay away from sex so I can see that you're in this relationship for her and not her body. Y/N, is a beautiful woman and she needs to be loved for herself not her looks".

"I know. But I'm not like those other guys. I love her for her dorky, sassy and intelligent personality. We have fun together. The kids like her. We have the same friends and she practically lives with me. Why can I not marry her already? I have the ring"?

"You have a ring"? Shay asked shocked, Antonio and you only been dating for a year and a half. So it came as a surprise.

"It was my mothers. I've had it in my pocket since our sixth month anniversary. That's how long I've been wanting to marry her". Antonio reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a little diamond ring with a wedding band.

"Cute. So you're really serious about this"? Shay eyed him.

"Yes. More than I've ever been. Laura, she's didnt like the job so that's what didnt work in our relationship. But Y/N, she knows the job and what comes with it. She has my back and I have hers. Always. She gets me and I get her".

"Alright, Dawson. You can marry my sister but if you step one foot out of line. I'll turn the hose on you and then wrap it around your neck. Got it"?

"Got it.  I'm going to go marry my girl". Antonio gushed with a grin  jumping up from the table. "Thanks, Shay. You wont regret it". He yelled over his shoulder before getting into his car.

"I better not". Shay smiled as Antonio disappeared down the road. She was happy for the both of them and she wanted you to be happy. Antonio was a good guy and he had a great family. Lucky to have you.

Antonio pulled into his drive way and your car was parted in his spot as usual. He chuckled and got out, running to the door. His heart was beating rapidly from excitement. He opened the door and his smile dropped. You were sitting on the couch crying.

"What's wrong? What happened"? Antonio quickly dashed over to the couch. You kicked him away when he tried to get close.

"You dont find me attractive anymore". You wailed, tears falling down your cheek and onto Antonio's shirt you were wearing.

"Baby, that's not true at all. I love you and I think you're the most beautiful woman ever". Antonio took your left hand in his.

"Then why dont you want to sleep with me? I wore a sexy outfit today and nothing happened. The old you would have taken me in the locker room without a blink of an eye". You sniffled.

"Y/N, you may think this is stupid but it's for a good reason". Antonio started.

"What"?

"Shay, said that I had to abstain from sex with you". Antonio nervously chuckled.

"She what? You actually listened to her"? You growled, taking the closest pillow near you and hitting Antonio over the head with it repeatedly.

"Babe, babe. Stop. It's for a good reason". Antonio held up his hands, covering his face.

"It better be. I am so horny. I could kill you". You giggled settling back into your spot. Antonio laughed.

"I asked Shay two weeks ago if I could marry you but she wouldn't say yes.  Unless I resisted you. She wanted to make sure I was in the relationship for you and not your body". Antonio explained. Your jaw dropped to the floor.

"You- you want to marry me"?

"Yes". Antonio pulled out the ring and slid it on your finger. "Y/N Shay, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world"?

"Yes, oh yes, Antonio". You squealed, jumping into Antonio's lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing his lips deeply in love.

"Aaaaaah. I love it, baby. Thank you. I cant wait to be your wife". You say between kisses.

"It was my mothers. I should've given it to you long ago but now seemed to be the right time. I love you".

"I love you too. So much". You kissed him even more.  All the passion and fury was coming undone.

"Let's go make up for lost time". You moaned into the kiss. 

"You read my mind". Antonio picked you up and started to carry you down the hall but you'd stopped him.

"Wait, you said she told you two weeks ago about not having sex. But you've only been acting weird for the last couple days". You tilted your head at him. You've been having sex.

"What can I say. I couldn't resist such a sexy, beautiful, intelligent woman sleeping next to me. The last few days have been hell not touching you. That wont happen again". Antonio playfully growled, nipping at your neck. You giggled as he carried you to the bedroom.

You got what you had wanted for so long.  Antonio Dawson to be your husband and for him to put his hands back on you.