#but it's the four-year anniversary of his death and this day always hits a little harder than most

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭

[Chapter 2] Killing Boredom

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader x Suguru Getou

“Suguru, will you be home early tonight?” You ask through the phone, hoping that you’ll have your husband home for dinner tonight. It’s a pointless wish because you’re always met with,

“We’re really busy tonight, honey.” You hear which makes you sigh. You sigh loud enough so he can hear it, which always makes him mutter an useless apology. He apologizes but never does anything to fix it. Eating all of your meals alone almost every day is depressing to say the least.

Before he can say his apology that ends with an “I love you, pumpkin” you hang up the phone. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down before you go downstairs. You’ll dismiss the staff that works in your house and go out to loosen up. Suguru always comes home late, so there’s no point in staying here, boring yourself to death.

You’ve been with Suguru Getou for seven years. You began dating not too long after you met him. You dated for two years, engaged for one, and married for four. Suguru is a wonderful partner most of the time.

A year into your relationship with him you found out that Suguru’s parents founded the Star Plasma phones, phones that half of the world uses. A phone that you used when you met Suguru, one that you still use to this day. That was Suguru’s source of income– Or rather, his parents’. Now Suguru is in charge of the company since his parents finally retired.

Suguru has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders which means more money. Yet that also means little free time to spend with his wife. Suguru was an excellent lover for the first two years of your relationship but that all changed when he actually started working with his family. It wasn’t this bad before though. He’d at least be home for dinner three times per week.

“You’re all dismissed. Suguru isn’t coming home tonight.” You inform the people that have started dinner. They were making one of Suguru’s favorites considering Tuesdays are one of the only days that Suguru is home for dinner.

You quickly go back upstairs to get ready to go out. You’ll have a couple of drinks and loosen up, trying to forget about your husband.

You rarely go out. Suguru’s marriage was a big deal, landing on the cover of magazines. Your face is known all over the country. Perhaps all over the world, if foreigners actually care about that stuff. You just know that if you were to go out and not even attempt to disguise yourself, you wouldn’t be left alone. 

While you’d love to be flashy and show off the jewelry and designer items that your husband buys for you, you can’t. You don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself because if anyone recognizes you, it’s bad for your husband. The moment Suguru told you who he was, you were forced to stop being a free spirit. Now every decision you make has to be thoroughly thought through because there’s a possibility you’ll ruin Suguru’s image.

So before going out you put on so much makeup to make yourself unrecognizable. You wear clothes that don’t draw too much attention to you, yet they manage to be alluring. Finally, you disguise your hair and put on a wig. It’s a black bob, which would look ridiculous on some people but not on you. You manage to draw people in with it.

You do your makeup, put on your wig, your mini red dress, and your black red bottoms. You go out to order some drinks and get hit on, not much for dancing so you don’t care to think about your feet’s comfort. You mainly go out to get drinks and to get hit on by other people. It’s not like you flirt back, but knowing you’re desired by others is always a confidence boost.

When the sun begins to set, the house is empty. The sound of your heels echo as they hit the marble floor. You walk to the garage to your baby. Well one of many. Suguru’s gift to you for your first marriage anniversary. A red mc20 maserati. Your go-to car ever since Suguru got it. 

It’s a rather flashy car for someone who tries to suppress their identity. But then again, all the cars you have are flashy so you might as well pick your favorite out of the bunch. Especially since your dress matches the color of the car.

You’re quickly out of the house and on your way to the nearest bar– One that’s half an hour away since Suguru decided he wanted to live secluded from the rest of the world. You didn’t care when he initially bought it, you just wanted a mansion. But now since you’re alone 90% of the time, you get irritated that you live so isolated.

In half an hour you’re parked outside the bar and getting out of your car. At least the place is nice because it’s in the rich side of town. When you enter the place you notice how empty it is. There’s maybe two other people in the place aside from the bartenders. Your disguise is practically useless but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

You take a seat and watch as the bartender walks over to you. You smile at her and she smiles back before properly greeting you, “Hi. I’m Rose. It’s the first time I see you come in. Can I see your ID?”

“Ah, you flatter me.” You tell her as you open your purse and pull out your wallet to get your driver’s license. She checks it and quickly gives it back to you, holding back a comment on your recent haircut. Before she can say anything else, you tell her your drink, “I want a negroni.”

“Coming right up, ma’am.”

You zone out listening to the faint music that plays in the bar. It’s a reminder of your husband since the man hates the song. But you find yourself humming the tune because you like it.  You always skip it to not ruin Suguru’s mood, but you like it.

You’ve given up a lot to be with Suguru. Not listening to a song doesn’t seem like a big deal, and it isn’t, but you’ve given up so much more than that. It feels like you’ve given up your whole identity to be with Suguru. Yet he isn’t at fault for that.

“Here you go.” The thump of the glass being set on the bar startles you as it brings you back to the present. You almost felt sorry for yourself for being with Suguru. You mutter a thank you before bringing the glass up to your lips.

You begin to sip on your drink quietly, listening to the new song that plays. Rose is about to talk to you since you seem rather lonely– Unlike her other customers, but someone else walks into the place and she has to serve him. He’s a frequent too.

“Welcome back, Gojo.” Rose smiles like a fool as the man approaches. He takes a seat right next to you, and you tense up. Gojo is a common last name so it’s not necessarily him. “Sex on the beach?”

“I feel like it’s too cold to go to the beach. Maybe some other time– Wait, you mean the drink? Yeah.” He jokes and Rose laughs. You hear his voice and it’s him. It’s definitely him. You just hope that he won’t try to talk to you. You don’t want him to recognize you.

“Whatcha drinking there?” Satoru asks while the bartender makes his drink. You hold back on sighing when he speaks to you even though you were praying he wouldn’t talk to you. When you don’t answer he clears his throat and repeats the question. He isn’t ignored, never. He probably wasn’t loud enough.

“Negroni.” You respond, and your voice rings. It’s definitely familiar. So he wants to keep you talking to remember who you are. But you don’t seem like the woman who talks much. Maybe if he could see your face, he’d remember who you are but your hair is covering it.

“Hmm… Can I buy you another?” He asks and you turn your face to look at him. There’s no reaction from him which makes you assume that he hasn’t recognized you. You get to finally look at him, and he looks handsome tonight. White button up shirt and black slacks. He definitely just got out of work.

“You don’t even know my name and here you are, already offering to buy me a drink.” You chuckle. You bat your eyelashes and give him a smile. He doesn’t recognize you so maybe you can be yourself for a bit. Even if Satoru were to recognize you, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not even Suguru.

“You’re right, where are my manners? I’m Satoru Gojo. And you are?” He’s quick to introduce himself. You smile at him, yet you remain quiet. You heard him, you definitely did, but you’re not going to answer his question. He can definitely live with the curiosity of what your name is. “I take it, you’re the mysterious type.”

“I just don’t like sharing my name with every random person I meet.” You respond and he raises his brow. “I will take the offer on the drink though.”

You hear your phone ring so you pull it out of your purse for a second, and sigh as you see a message from your husband. He’ll be home much later than usual. You put the phone away again and bring the glass up to your lips.

“Can’t help but notice that you’re married. Is your partner with you tonight?” Satoru asks, and you click your tongue, immediately knowing where this is going. You know what he’s planning but you’re too irritated with your husband to quickly shut Satoru down.

“My husband is working late tonight.” You answer. You watch the smirk grow on Satoru’s lips. His drink is placed in front of him, and he thanks the bartender before he asks for another negroni for you.

“Working late or he’s having-” He begins but you cut him off before he can suggest what he’s about to.

“My husband and I are very loyal to each other.” You state with a smile.

“So I take that we’re not going anywhere tonight.” He sounds disappointed.

“Aside from flirting, we’re not going anywhere.” You tell him. Well flirting is something for him, that’s definitely better than friendly banter the whole entire night. He clears his throat, and he decides he’ll try to impress you.

“I see you own a Star phone.” He comments and you hum. “I’m the executive vice-president of the company.”

You’re supposed to act impressed or shocked by the revelation. But you’re not because you already knew. But you can’t let him know who you are. Not acting impressed will definitely raise some questions. “Are you really? You’re lying.”

“I am.” He chuckles as he pulls out his wallet to get a business card. He shows it off to you, and once you read the name, you nod. You can’t bring yourself to actually be surprised. You can’t bring yourself to act surprised.

“You know what I have to say about your husband…” Satoru begins and you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “He’s a damn fool. If you were my wife I wouldn’t let no stupid job get in my way.”

“Good thing I’m not.” You chuckle. “My husband is just trying to make money.”

“You don’t have to worry about money with me, baby.” He says, making you laugh. Satoru says anything to get into anyone’s pants.

“Hmm… Really? If I were to leave my husband for you, would you pay for everything?” You question and he confidently nods with a smirk on his face. “Would you actually commit?”

“Sure would. For a woman so beautiful I’ll do anything.” He replies, making you roll your eyes.

“Not sure if a man as handsome as you will keep his promise.” You ask and he chuckles. You’re definitely making yourself comfortable around him. His face is inches away from yours, and you feel his breath on your ear when he whispers.

“So I’m handsome? Will your husband approve of that?” You hear and it sends a shiver down your spine, yet you manage to laugh.

“Well he’s not here now, is he?” You ask. 

For the rest of the night you two speak, thinking that your identity was kept hidden. You flirted with an old friend until it was time to go home. You had more fun than you had in years. And just as planned, Suguru wasn’t home yet.

But Satoru definitely knew who you were. No matter how much you try to change yourself he’ll always recognize you.

🏷 @violetsaffron5 @uhremmi @13vicey @rumi-rants @somemydayy @lilith412426 @33yaeyaeeee @iam-mia9 @m00dycr4nkybitc @cloudsinthecosmos @armincasa @staromi @hopelhss @desireness @abba-simp @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @corndogwithwings @Konekobby @tojianddabisslut @yeagerfushiguro @mochikage @chanelmalandro @Katykat71114 @ur-mums-side @manidobre @itadore-you @yehet-moi-ohorat @lovemarvel16

[callsign-magnolia]

Lost In Translation // Snake in the Grass

Warning: Angst, cursing

Collaboration w/: @alltimereverie

Bradley Bradshaw as Noah

Bob Floyd as Harrison

Better Than I Imagined | Masterlist

He leaves in four days. Another deployment, another six months of wondering what to do with myself in my free time. I straightened out the navy tea length dress as I knocked on the door. It took a moment before it swung open, revealing Katy’s blonde hair and a large smile gracing her face. “Oh! Liz, we are so glad you could make it! Come in! Come in!” I stepped inside, feeling weird that I didn’t just walk through the door. I went to walk into the living room when Katy slipped past me, holding her arms out. “Ta-da!” 

Oh my god. She changed everything since she moved in. The entertainment center was no longer filled with movies Noah and I loved, and pictures of us and our friends. It had flowers, books and pictures of him and her. The only picture of us still there was in the back and it was from junior year of high school. He had just hit the winning home run for the baseball team and his mom caught a picture of us, mid hug. 

“Had to clean the place up a little, it was very… masculine.” I pursed my lips. It was his house, he was a single guy in the navy so of course it looked like a bachelor pad. I ran my hand along the floral throw blanket that rested on the back of the couch, the same place that his Philadelphia Eagles blanket used to be, the one I bought him. “You like it? I couldn’t bare to look at that ugly green and white blanket anymore.” My heart sunk a little at her words. “I love that blanket, it’s the one we share when we go to games in the winter.” Her nose twitched and I narrowed my eyes at her just slightly. 

“Liz! Thank god! Look I need your help in the kitchen, I’m trying to make mom's creamy tuscan chicken and it’s not coming out right.” I chuckled as he came out of the kitchen, apron on and in a panic. “Alright, you always needed help in the kitchen anyway.” I said before following him. “The consistency isn’t right.” I looked in the pot and saw it was watery. “You just need a little more flour.” He nodded and scooped some out of the bag. “A little at a time. There we go.” He added it little by little until it was perfect. I smiled at him and saw tears in his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He shook his head, leaning back on the island in the kitchen. “It’s just… this is the first deployment that I’ll be gone on the anniversary of mom’s death.” My bottom lip poked out as I saw the tears fall down his face. 

“Oh, Noah.” I pulled him into a hug, one hand resting on the nape of his neck and the other rubbing his back. He sobbed into my shoulder as his arms encircled my waist. “I hate that I won’t be here. I usually sit out there all day and make sure she has fresh flowers-” “I got it.” I said leaning back. “I will make sure she has fresh flowers on her grave and I will sit out there. I haven’t been in a while, it’ll do me some good.” He pulled me back into him and I relished in it, his arms around my waist and his cologne invading my senses. We stayed like that for a moment before we heard someone clear their throat. We looked to see Katy in the doorway, her lips pursed in a thin line and her arms crossed over her chest. 

“I was coming to see if Liz wanted to see how I did our bedroom?” He nodded, wiping his face. “Go, I’ll pour you some wine.” I sighed and nodded, following her upstairs and into their bedroom. His black comforter had been traded out for a gray and white floral, a baby pink blanket laying across the bottom. Her jewelry box had been added to the top of the dresser, as well as another stack of books, all law related. There were plants in a few places around the room. In the corners, on his shelves and even in front of the windows. It was beautiful but not Noah. “Like it?” I nodded. “It’s pretty. Different but pretty.” She nodded, smiling at me. We headed downstairs, and I fell back onto the leather sectional, sinking into it. She sat down, crossing her ankles and giving me a stern look. “It’s not really appropriate to just flop onto someone’s couch.” Noah isn’t just someone. I went to open my mouth and retort when Noah came in. “Babe, what did you do with the riesling in the fridge?” Katy furrowed her brows, turning back to look at him. 

“I took it back to the store and got some cabernet. I don’t drink riesling.” Noah tilted his head back, groaning. “Babe, Liz can’t have red wine. It throws her into a migraine, that’s why I had the riesling. I always keep a bottle on hand for her.” Her eyes widened and she looked at me. “Oh, Liz! I’m so sorry! If I had known I would’ve left it!” Her lip twitched as if she was fighting a grin. “It’s okay Noah, I haven’t had enough water today anyway.” He gave me an apologetic look and nodded before walking back into the kitchen. “Sure you don’t want some red wine? Surely you can fight off a little headache.” I pursed my lips, fighting the urge to snap at her.

“My ‘little headaches’ tend to make me puke and knock me off my feet. So no, I’ll just have water.” I said politely and she giggled. “I’m surprised you wanted water. It looks like you don’t drink it anyway.” My eyebrows shot up and I looked at her. “I’m sorry?” She placed her hand over her heart and feigned surprise. “Oh, I meant no offense. I was just concerned for your health.” I scoffed, looking away from her. “Here you go. Water for my best girl.” Noah said before handing me the glass and kissing my head. “Thanks, Noah.” He smiled at me before he went to walk back into the kitchen, being stopped by Katy who reached up, her arm sneaking around his neck and she pulled him into a kiss. I bit my lip, sipping my water trying to ignore them. He pulled back, chuckling at her. “Later.” He said before walking back into the kitchen.

“Do you love him, Liz?” I furrowed my brows in confusion, looking at her. “Of course, he-” “He’s your best friend, but are you in love with him?” My mouth hung open. I needed to tell her no, but I couldn’t. “Yeah, I figured as much.” She huffed before scooting closer, gently putting her arm around my shoulders. I was so uncomfortable with her that close, I wanted the couch to swallow me into it. “Let me break this to you gently. If he wanted you, he would’ve made you his a long time ago, sweetie.” Tears sprung to my eyes at her words. “You’ve got to let this go. This pining for him is only going to ruin everything.” 

She was right, it was one sided. The unrequited love you hear about in stories, but mine will never be returned. “I can’t have you ruining this, Liz.” I stood, brushing her off me and grabbing my purse. “Okay dinner is-where are you going?” Fuck, I hoped I could rush out without him stopping me. “Home.” I heard a few things clatter on the table and feet rushing. “Woah, hey. What’s this about?” I shook my head as he grabbed my arm, turning me to face him, his other hand gripping my wrist to keep me from turning away. “Nothing I just, there are some important plans that I have to have turned in tomorrow morning that I haven’t finished. If I don’t finish them, I will lose my job.” He furrowed his brows, because he knows good and well I finish everything in the office. I never bring work home. “Liz, come on.” I shook my head and pulled back. “I’ll see you later.” I said before rushing out the door. “What did you say to her?” It was distant, I'm not even sure I heard him right but I just rushed to my car. I got in, once again sobbing as I cranked it and backed out of his driveway, starting the short drive to my house. 

~~~

“What did you say to her?” Noah asked, whipping around to look at Katy. “All I said was that you didn’t love her-” “What the fuck, Katy?!” Her eyes widened in surprise at his words. “So what? Do you love her?” He nodded, tossing his arms out. “Of course! She’s my best friend!” Katy ran her hands through her hair, almost pulling on it in frustration. “Oh my god! She’s in fucking love with you, Noah!” He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Where did you get that from?” She scoffed. “We were sitting here and I asked her.” He quirked a brow at her words. “And what did she say?” 

Katy stilled, realization hitting her. “No-nothing.” He pursed his lips, nodding. “That’s fucking low.” He said before marching upstairs to their now shared bedroom, grabbing his already packed duffle and an extra set of pajamas. “Where are you going?” He grabbed a few last things from the bathroom, shoving them into his bag. “I’m going over to Liz’s.” Katy sputtered over her words, trying to find what to say. “You’re leaving me?” He nodded. “At least for the night.” She followed him down the stairs. “But you leave in four days!” He nodded. “I do. But you decided to sit here and make up some stupid lie out of jealousy. So I’m gonna go and spend my night with Liz. If you want to fix this, you can call me in the morning.” He said before walking out.

~~~

Once I was home I threw my purse to the side and yanked off the combat boots I had on. She was right, he would never return my feelings. I can’t keep going on like this, breaking my own heart. I laid on my couch, sitting with those thoughts. “He’ll never love me like I love him. Who was I kidding?” I asked out loud. After a while of just crying in the dark I fell asleep, dreamlessly hoping that one day he would return my feelings. 

I stood and walked to the door, opening it for him and he engulfed me in a hug. “Oh, thank god. You weren’t answering your phone, I thought something happened to you.” He said and I looked at my phone, 911 still pulled up on my keypad. I looked at my recents and saw sixteen missed calls and nine texts, all with varying levels of concern. “No. No, I’m fine.” I said turning to him. “What are you doing here?” He furrowed his brows. “I’m here for you.” He said coming over and taking my hands. “I’m so sorry for what Katy said. She never should’ve said those things to you.” My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. “Wha-really?” My mouth went dry at his words. I had to be dreaming, there’s no other way this could be happening. 

I awoke with a start when I heard banging on my front door. I looked to the door, questioning if I heard it right. My heart pounded and I rolled into the floor, army crawling to where I threw my purse and digging my phone out of it. I heard it again and I quickly dialed 911. “Lizzy, please. I’m sorry about what she said.” I calmed when I heard Noah’s voice on the other side, letting me know it wasn’t someone here to hurt me.

But his thumbs rubbing over my knuckles told me otherwise. “Of course, Liz. I love you, you’re my best friend. I never expected another girl to understand our relationship but Katy said she’s willing to learn.” He said before pulling me into a hug. No, fuck! He came here to tell me how much I mean to him as a best friend. Tears slipped down my cheeks and onto his shoulder as he held me. “I hate to do this, but Katy and I got into it.” He said before holding up his bag. “Mind if I crash in the guest room?” I thought for a moment. He ships out in four days, I should kick him out and tell him to go back to his house and make her leave. But I wanted to be selfish, I want him to myself at least for tonight before he ships out for six months. “Yeah, of course.” I said, wiping my eyes. “She really hurt you, didn’t she?” I pursed my lips and nodded. It was the truth. “I’ll have a talk with her. You’re too important to me to lose you.” He said, kissing my forehead like always. “Let me get set up in the guest room and then I will order your favorite from the chinese place.” I smiled at him before he walked away. One night, I can be selfish for one night. What harm could it do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @dhwanishah09 @wkndwlff

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Slaughterhouse by K.A. Lugo

Jack Slaughter Thriller #3

Jack has hit a dark point in his life, so dark that he contemplates bowing out entirely. Ray, his brother by another mother, manages to show up at just the right moment with just the right incentive to draw Jack back into the search for information that might provide closure to what really happened four years ago in the house he once lived in with his beloved wife, daughter, and pet.

What I liked:

* Jack: decorated ex-cop, savvy private investigator, sharpshooter, great friend, unable to move on from the traumatic death of his wife and daughter, probably needs some counseling as well as a focus for his future, a little bit of a loose canon at times in this story

* Ray: Jack’s best friend, policeman, onetime work partner of Jack’s, loving husband and father, foster father to Dewayne, caring, kind, there for Jack, knows Jack needs him close even if Jack doesn’t realize it

* Ray’s family – could be a support and safe happy place for Jack to visit in the future

* Haniford and Cutter: colleagues on the police force that make an appearance in this book and could show up in future books

* The setting in San Francisco and the tidbits of history about the city

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* The missing persons part of the story and the bread crumbs that tantalized Jack

* The Jade Dragon tie-in

* Seeing Jack with Ray’s family one evening and feeling that there is hope for Jack

* Wondering what will be found out about the surprise Jack unearths in his back yard

* Knowing there will be a book four

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about the grief, pain, and loss Jack is dealing with

* Thinking about how life choices can have such a big impact on a person's life – positively or negatively

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

It's the anniversary of the date he lost his family and Jack doubts he'll ever find those responsible. Depression has taken hold, and he pulls out his Beretta for the last time. As he fingers the trigger, Ray shows up with the identity of the man who’d killed himself in Jack’s house weeks before, leaving a note simply saying, ”I’m sorry.” Jack soon finds himself dragged into San Francisco's underbelly and his life threatened at the hands of the city's deadly Chinese gang, the Jade Dragons. When things become more dangerous, Jack must keep pushing forward, even knowing it could mean his death because the gang's leader, Li Zihao, may have the answers Jack’s looking for—who destroyed his family and what happened to Leah. Is Jack ready for the truth?

AUTHOR BIO

K.A. Lugo is a native Northern Californian who grew up on the Monterey Peninsula, just two hours south of San Francisco. She spent much of her time along the streets of the city and always makes a point to spend a couple days there when she's home. Living in Ireland since 1997, most of her books have been Irish set romances, but now K.A.'s dedicating her time to San Francisco set thrillers through the eyes of Jack Slaughter. K.A. loves hearing from readers and promises to reply to each message. Please visit her socials to stay up-to-date on this exciting new series.

[keywestlou]

COLD IN KEY WEST…..HORRIBLE IN BUFFALO

COLD IN KEY WEST…..HORRIBLE IN BUFFALO - https://keywestlou.com/cold-in-key-west-horrible-in-buffalo/A weather man I am not. Yet I know what happens in upstate New York and Key West based on years of experience. Experience acquired by living in each area for decades. Key West weather today 72-78. The 72 at the moment is cold. Cold for Key Westers who are accustomed to mid 80's. Fortunately, snow will not fall. Has snow ever fallen in Key West? Buffalo, on the other hand, is in for what has already been predicted to be an "historic storm." Four to five feet of snow. Temperature 27-35 degrees. Four to five feet a crippling storm. Does not necessarily mean a suffering one for most. I spent 60 plus years residing in Utica. On the same line as Buffalo. Less than 200 miles separating the two communities. Yearly "major" snow storms generally 1-2 feet. Occasionally, the mother of all storms. Three feet plus. A few really big ones over the years. Could have been 5 feet or better. I never minded the big storms. Meant everything closed down. Roads impassable. No one could get to work. No one could get anywhere. Everyone home confined. It was a time when families got to know each other again over a three day period. I loved it! Especially when the kids were small. I had several law offices. One located in Buffalo. A big storm hit. My staff "lived" in the offices for 3 days. Slept on desks and the floor. Somehow were able to get food from here and there. One concluding observation. When it is "very" cold in Buffalo and upstate New York, it is cold in Key West. Look at Key West's temperature for today and compare it to Buffalo's. Being Catholic has/had its disadvantages. There was once a time when it was a sin to eat meat on friday. I started doing Confession around 6 years of age. Many a saturday this little boy stood in line waiting to go to confession. Sweating, nervous. I had sinned. Ate meat on friday. Probably a bologna sandwich. On this day in 1966 U.S. Catholic bishops did away with the rule meat could not be eaten on fridays, except during Lent. When they did, I was in my early 30's so it made no difference. I did not eat meat on fridays. Probably because I would be embarrassed to confess that as an adult I had committed such a stupid minor sin. Felt sorry for Lori yesterday. As she was cutting my hair, I asked how her leg was. Lori is a runner. Five to seven miles a day. She had complained to me two weeks earlier her leg was bothering her. Turns out she has a torn meniscus. No running for six months. Tear small so no surgery. I feel sorry for Lori. I have known her for a quarter century. She has always been a runner. On the way to Harpoon Harry's for lunch, I ran into Aaron Wechter. I have not seen Aaron in quite a while. My first real male friend when I arrived in Key West years ago. It was good to run into him. I enjoyed our chat. Aaron is a very busy man. An extremely busy Notary Public. He marries people. The biggest and best "marrying man" in Key West. Big day tomorrow at Hogfish! Bobby and Michelle Mongelli are celebrating the 20th anniversary of opening what has become one of the most famous eateries in the Keys. Hogfish. Festivities begin "around 4 o'clock." Syracuse plays football against Wake Forest tomorrow at 8 pm. Syracuse 6-4, Wake Forest 6-4. Syracuse has lost its last 4 games, Wake Forest its last 3. I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen. A lot of crazy people in this world. You don't need me to tell you. On this day in 1978, the Jonestown deaths occurred. Nine hundred eighteen cult murders and suicides. All promoted by cult leader Jimmy Jones. Jones had formed a haven for his followers in Jonestown, Guyana. The cult members are said to have "drunk the Kool-Aid." All but 2 died from cyanide poisoning which was either drunk or injected. Some are reported to have consumed the cyanide against their will. Enjoy your day! Eat bologna, don't drink Jonestown Kool-Aid!  

[engagemachine]

Man, one of the greatest blessings of my life was getting to see the late and forever great Chris Cornell perform live, back in 2014, approximately twenty years after Soundgarden’s Superunkown 1994 debut. I arrived to that concert late because I’d (stupidly) written the time down wrong and I didn’t realize until the last minute. I remember my dad driving us through this absolute torrential downpour and me begging him to drive faster even though we could barely see two feet in front of us and the windshield wipers were flying across the dashboard at full speed. Luckily, I hadn’t missed that many songs from the opening set, and one of my most cherished memories was getting to hear Black Hole Sun live. 

I grew up with Audioslave (and later Soundgarden -- I know, it’s a bit backwards) but loving Chris Cornell was as easy as breathing. His music, his voice, the lyrics, it all just spoke to me in a way that nothing else ever really had, even at the tender age of nine and ten, and it has continued to follow me onwards throughout the rest of my life. His music shaped me and was there for me when nothing else ever was. I just think that that’s the power of incredibly evocative and timeless music, and Chris Cornell gave us that gift. Rest in peace, man, and thank you so much for everything. 

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

five times afraid for the Convenience couple please ❣️ and yes i tried to choose the most angst one because they can't catch a break 😉💔

A/N: Well you wanted angst, so here's a boatload! If you would like to send me a request for one of my WIP pairs, you can find the prompt list here!

five times afraid:

One:

“Bruce, you need to breathe. Please, I need you to breathe.” Y/N tried to keep her tears at bay as Bruce clutched onto her harder. Her back hurt from how she had hit the floor when he all but collapsed on her, but she pushed the pain down and ran her fingers through his hair instead. “C’mon, please, breathe with me.”

She knew the first anniversary of his parents death that he spent away from Gotham would be hard for him; that was the whole reason she had flown out to visit him at his college for a week. He had been fine for the first two days, a little more reserved than normal, but she was expecting that. But she had not expected to wake up on the actual anniversary and have him burst into tears the moment he set eyes on her.

After that he had started having a panic attack and would have collapsed to the floor if she had not caught him. His breathing was still ragged and uneven and it terrified her.

“Please, just breathe with me.” She cupped his face and rubbed her thumb along his jaw as she exaggerated her own breaths.

It took a while, but eventually his breaths started to even out as well, and then he was just sobbing into her shoulder instead. But she could deal with that, as long as he just kept breathing.

Two:

Bruce did not know what to do with the small kid who was currently crying into his t-shirt. He could deal with hardened criminals, drug dealers and the literal worst of the worst without fear.  But having a recently orphaned eight year old clinging to him, sobbing his heart out terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

His first reaction was to call for Y/N, but she was out catching up with a friend from college and he really did not want to deny her the chance to talk to someone other than him, the kid or Alfred. It had also taken Dick so long to warm up to him that he did not want to just pass the kid off to someone else and end up back at square one.

So he took a deep breath and tried to think about what his parents used to do when he had a nightmare.

He had a vague memory of his mother holding him in her lap and singing Yesterday by the Beatles. Bruce was not very confident with his singing voice, so he started humming instead, gently rocking the kid just like his mom used to for him.

Three:

Y/N’s hands would not stop shaking as she reached out and took Dick’s hand in both of hers. She could barely hear what Leslie and Bruce were saying behind her; something about a baseball bat and a fractured skull and wait to see if he wakes up.

She wanted to run her fingers through his hair like she always did when he was hurt or scared or needed her, but the bandages wrapped around his head stopped her.

She should have fought him and Bruce harder when they said he was going to be helping Bruce each night. She should have fought them both tooth and nail because she was not sure how she would cope if she lost her little boy.

Four:

Jason was… Jason was standing right in front of him. Y/N’s account of what happened and the security footage from the cave had been one thing, but having Jason stood mere metres away from him solidified in Bruce’s mind that his son really was back.

But the choices Jason had presented him with terrified him. He could not kill his son, Jason meant too much, it had hurt too much to lose him the first time, for Bruce to even consider it. But he could not just stand by and let his son kill the Joker either, no matter how much Bruce wanted the clown dead himself. Jason, the carefree little boy who cared so much about people, did not need his own murderers blood on his hands

Bruce took a breath and tried to figure out a way out of this.

Five:

Y/N could not stop staring at the blood on her jeans as she combed her fingers through Jason’s curls. He was leaning heavily against her and sobbing into her shoulder as she tried to console him. But it was hard when she had watched as he slit Tim’s throat and they had no idea what was happening in the surgery room across the hall from them.

She knew, she did, that it had been the pit lashing out. His eyes had been so green they were almost glowing and the Joker had set everything up perfectly to ensure that Jason lost control and had someone in his wake to hurt.

But Tim was so small and he looked so much like Jason.

She curled her body closer around her second son and tried to push down her fear. Everything was going to be okay, it had to be.

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader

As you all can see, I got carried away just a little with this one. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm planning at least part two, since this part got soooo long.

Anyway!

I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors, as well as any confusion with syntax. English isn't my native but I always try my best! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Please, pay attention to the warnings. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics, simply do not read.

I pictured here Aro from the films (as Michael Sheen is perfect for this part), Caius from the films (maybe a little bit older) and Marcus from the films but his younger self (maybe 20?). Also, I wrote at one point that [Y/N] has blonde hair and blue eyes but it just helped me with the descriptions. Obviously, you can picture characters according to your wishes.

Warnings: Rape (graphic description!), Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 7816 (!)

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings' mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

You thought that the death of your parents was enough to break you. As they say, if you’re not willing to bend, you’ll break. And you did. After all.

Ever since you’ve been born, everything went downhill. You were a weak child and within your first five years of life, you’ve gone through countless surgeries. Something was terribly wrong with your spine and the doctors were worried that you wouldn't be able to move normally.

You got your ‘happily ever after’. After fourteen surgeries and taking more than a dozen medications, you could be considered healthy. It made you remember the better part of your childhood. At this point, you couldn’t even recall constant visits at hospital or ingesting enormous amount of drugs.

What you could recall, was the agony that your mom went through while dying of pancreatic cancer. You tried to help her but there was literally no help available. Sure, chemo did help, but only a little tiniest bit. When someone got this type of cancer, there was only one way to die. It was neither pretty, nor pleasant.

So your mother died when you were sixteen. Your father followed shortly after her. He suffered from severe depression after your mother’s passing, but it was the car accident that got him killed. You were just before your graduation.

You’ve finished school and tried to go on. It wasn’t exactly an easy path to follow. You had the feeling that fate had made you its whore and the devil knows his jokes. Somehow, you got through college. You used the money from your dad's insurance policy entirely for your education. It was the only thing you could do to secure your future.

At 22, you got a job at the same hospital where doctor Cullen worked. You were a nurse on the paediatrics ward, but the hospital in Forks was so small that you often found yourself working with doctor Cullen. He was always kind to you and exuded a fatherly warmth. However, like everyone from Cullen family, he was slightly withdrawn from all conversations and social activities.

You noticed a slight change in his behaviour when your best friend, Bella, started dating with the doctor's youngest son, Edward. Carlisle has been talking to you more and more. The conversations weren't long – more like short exchanges of words, whether about his family’s well-being or any leisure activities both of you devoted yourselves after work. Nevertheless, you started calling each other by the others’ given name.

You met with Bella on average once a week. Sure, you were four years older than her, but the age difference never was a problem. You always got along well, and age had nothing to do with it. With time, you've watched Bella thrive during her relationship with Edward and you've enjoyed her happiness. Your relationship had loosened a little, but you didn't hold it against her. With Forks being so small, you could easily meet Bella on the street or in a shop and talk to her about silly things or this boyfriend of hers. It made her blush furiously every time you brought up the topic, especially if Edward waited nearby.

And then, just like that, something snapped. Of course, you heard about their huge quarrel about god knows what, and that Bella wanted to make herself scarce immediately. Charlie called you that night if , by any chance, you could talk some sense into her. Bella not once picked up her phone and then she got her stupid ass into the hospital. And magically reconciled with Edward. That’s when you started to be suspicious. Something wasn’t right about this situation, at all, but you let it be.

Time passed and even though you liked Carlisle as a colleague, you became gradually suspicious about him and his family. Things that you noticed were little, almost insignificant, but something told you that there’s more than meets the eye. Bella herself began to limit contact with you, mainly due to her lack of time for Edward. But when you did get a chance to meet and talk, the subject of Edward still came to the surface.

You tried to understand your friend, while not understanding her at all. You also were in love once but your mother's illness and then your father's death took too much of a toll on you, to experience your first love in such an intense way. It was incomprehensible to you, how Bella could lose her head so much for this boy. And yet you tried, tried to be there when Bella needed you the most. Simply because you were a good friend and also because you needed a friend.

You were left alone, out in this world, with no one to care about and no one to love. Only Bella, as present and, most importantly, alive person, connected you with your childhood and good memories from that time. She was the only one left. You considered her your family and you didn’t want to lose her too. Not after all you’ve been through.

At the day of her birthday, you saw her quickly after her school. You gave her a small gift and you both agreed to meet a day later because Edward's family had invited her to stay at their place. After that birthday, everything changed. The next day Bella went missing. You went to her house exactly as agreed and Charlie said she had been gone for a few hours.

When Bella was found later that evening by Sam, Charlie's colleague, everything became frighteningly clear. The Cullens had moved out of town. Apparently, Carlisle had gotten a lucrative job somewhere else. That didn't surprise you, he was a really great doctor. But how could he not mention a word of it to you? Not that you were so close to him but you considered him a good comrade of yours and moving out of town like this, without a word… It seemed extremely strange to you.

The months that followed were very similar. Bella fell into a deep depression and apathy. You came to visit her, but during these visits it was mainly you who talked. You talked about work, about your next qualification course and about the anniversary of your mum's death. Bella mostly remained silent. Charlie confirmed that, yes, she did go to school, but apart from that, she sat in her room all day and stared at the window.

You knew from Charlie that she was slowly trying to reconnect with her friends. And that she was spending a lot of time with that boy from the reservation. You were happy because it meant that your friend was slowly coming back to life. Maybe not back to normal, not yet, but at least she was trying. And you were trying too. To be a good friend, a good sister to her.

You started talking more during your visits at her house. Unlike before, the subject of Edward didn't exist. It was as if he had never existed. So you did not mention him at all. Bella was healing, slowly, just as you were, when both of your parents died. She was there for you, even if you could only talk to her on the phone because, at that time, she permanently lived with Renee.

For the first time in several months, you hoped that things would somehow work out. In your life, the moments when you were truly happy never lasted long. It was the same this time. One day, you went to Port Angeles to buy new clothes for work. Yours were still from your university days, worn out, but not so long ago you were short of money and preferred to spend it on other things rather than buying new clothes.

By the time you got back to your car it was pretty late. The car park was deserted. On your way to the car, a man accosted you and, before you knew it, he had hit you on the head with something heavy. When you woke up, you were in a squalid alley. The man was pressing you against a wall with all his strength. You only realised what he was going to do, when you felt a cool breeze brush against your bare legs. Your trousers and underwear were almost at your ankles. You started to squirm, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. You heard his quiet giggle next to your ear.

"Don't resist angel, I’ll be quick," he whispered in your ear, pawing at your breasts with his left hand. You felt sick to your stomach. He had hideous breath, as if he had been drinking for three days, then puked and drank again. You started to jerk harder, to pull away, but it only caused you pain. He held tight, pushing against you with his whole body and whispering disgusting things under his breath. When he finally entered you, he tugged hard on your hair. He made no effort to cover your mouth because you didn't even try to scream. You were out of breath, unable to say a word. You were afraid that he would kill you. You wanted him to go away so that the pain would end and you could finally go home.

When he finished, he let you go and just walked away. You stood there, half naked, frozen and shaken, for god knows how long. You were unable to move. When you felt his semen running down your leg, you finally managed to vomit. Your cheek was bruised and scratched from how hard he pressed you against the rough wall. You wanted to go home, but you didn't have the strength to get up from the street.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you finally got up. You got dressed and walked to your car. Everything hurt. You didn't want to, but you knew, you had to go to the hospital. You could not leave it like that. He had already hurt you, but what about the others? You couldn't let that happen. All the way to the hospital in Port Angeles your hands were trembling. Returning to that memory, you didn't even remember how you got to the ER.

At the hospital, they took care of you properly. They called the police. Two female doctors were there for a medical examination. The nurses were very nice. You tried to put on a good face. You've thought about how your sexual experiences has been so far. Your first sex, like most people's, was terrible. Your boyfriend was two years older, you were 17 and it all went wrong. You were in pain. He didn't seem too happy either. Up until you graduated from high school, you tried to make it work somehow, but there were never any fireworks. It wasn't until college that you discovered the good side of sex.

However, you never had sex with someone you loved more than life. You haven't met anyone like that. And you were sure that sex with that person would be unique and exceptional. Until now, of course. Lying on a hospital bed, you felt exploited. Abused. Filthy. Humiliated. How can one do something like that to another person? The nurse asked if someone could come and pick you up, and you didn't have much of a choice. You called Bella. While she was on her way to the hospital, you let the police officers question you. You mechanically slurred the words as if it wasn't about you at all. As if it wasn’t you that had been raped.

As soon as you saw Bella, you were no longer able to pretend that nothing had happened. You were sobbing and she hugged you tight, telling you that he would pay for it. You weren't so sure about that. You wanted to be home as soon as possible, so you went back to Forks. Bella said nothing while driving because there was nothing that could be said. In the shower, you scrubbed yourself so hard with the pumice that you thought you had taken off all your skin. To your absolute disgust, you could still feel his touch on you. You could hear him whisper against your ear and you could smell his hideous breath.

A week has passed. Bella texted you every day, and you were able to hang out almost every other day. She was a good sister, a great friend. She didn't want to leave you alone in this. Despite being offered leave, you went to work. You didn't want to keep thinking about what happened. Each time, after taking a bath, you were unable to look in the mirror. On the first day, right after scrubbing, you decided to take a look. You had bruises on your stomach, thighs, buttocks and breasts. Your forearms were scraped, your cheek was scratched and bruised. The worst of it was that you had been bleeding for days. The gynaecologist said, it was due to too much force, and the fact that you actively resisted for a while.

You were trying to get back to normal. You went to work, you were seeing Bella and taking your course. But no one could touch you. You didn't even shake hands to say hello. You didn't care at all, you couldn’t endure a touch anymore. Not in any way. You didn't get your period, but the doctor said it could happen. It was a shock to the body and a lot of pain to bear. Also, you bled for almost a week after the rape.

You started to be afraid to go out alone. When in a shop or at work, if anyone approached you from behind, you started panicking and hyperventilating. You couldn’t walk ordinarily on the street. You looked behind every two or three minutes to assure yourself that nobody was following you. Your hands trembled while driving the car or making the tea. Your eyes were starting to water as soon as someone even tried to touch you. You had nightmares and you started losing your mind because of this.

When your period did not come in the following month, you began to worry. Surely you couldn't get pregnant with this... monster. Not you. Of course you have checked. You would not be able to live in such ignorance. It turned out that yes, you indeed were pregnant. When the doctor confirmed it, you fainted. Not you, not like that. You didn't even think you'd ever be a mum. Let alone like this. You hated your body even more and the fact that it had betrayed you in such a villainous way.

You knew this path led to madness. You were in an even worse mental condition, than after losing your mum; than after dad died in the accident. You have shed countless tears. You didn't want to abort this pregnancy, and at the same time you wanted it with all your heart. If only you were able to defend yourself. Break away from him and run as far away as possible. It would never have happened. But you were weak and didn't even have the energy to scream. Would it have made any difference though?

You were constantly beating yourself up with thoughts about whether you should keep the baby, when something completely bizarre happened. Jacob called you that he had to rescue Bella after jumping off a cliff. Annoyed, you got in your car and drove up to the Swans' house. Bella's car wasn't there, so you waited patiently in yours. When they arrived, you were boiling with rage.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” you shouted, as you got out of the car.

Bella rolled her eyes. She looked miserable. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was soaked through. She smiled weakly towards you.

“It was just for fun, you know” she muttered, as you hugged her tightly. It was your first closer contact since…

“It was just for sport,” she tried again.

You snorted in annoyance.

“Yeah, sure, get inside before you get sick.”

As you both stepped onto the porch, Jacob unexpectedly grabbed Bella's wrist. They shared a look.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. You can go now, Jake,” she muttered, trying to disentangle herself from his grasp.

You smiled weakly at him, while Bella was looking for her keys.

“Cool, I'll take care of her until Charlie gets back. Thanks for saving her stupid ass,” you said. Jacob smiled amused, but still seemed slightly tense.

“No problem. Always at your service,” he joked. “Well... See ya around,” he said goodbye and walked away to his car.

You walked into the house with Bella.

“What were you thinking? You could have died” you muttered under your breath, stripping off your jacket.

“Well...actually I wasn't thinking, like, at all” Bella admitted, smiling apologetically at you.

“Next time think about Charlie,” you said, hugging her once more. Your body screamed that you shouldn't do that, but you were glad that Bella was okay.

While Bella changed into dry clothes, you made hot tea for both of you. Someone knocked on the door. The knocking was not from the front, but from the courtyard. You walked slowly to the door and opened it. Edward's sister, Alice, stood in front of you. You wouldn't have known what she looked like, if Bella hadn't shown you pictures of her. But other than that, you knew quite a bit about her, because when Bella was still with Edward, she couldn’t kept her mouth shut about Alice.

“Hi. Can I come in?” she asked politely. She tried to look normal, but there was something in her behaviour that made you nervous. You were about to reply, when Bella appeared in the kitchen.

“Alice!” she squealed, throwing herself around the brunette's neck. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at Alice in disbelief. "Are you really here? Or am I just dreaming this?" asked Bella.

It was your turn to roll the eyes.

“Of course she’s here” you said, now slightly annoyed. “Don’t be bothered by me, please, proceed to whatever you wanted to say.”

Your sarcastic tone was not intended, but justified. You were slowly beginning to get fed up with this family's games. First they move out and turn Bella's life upside down, and now the big comeback? Something's not right here. Besides, at that moment, you weren't the right person to play with. You had enough problems of your own and your life was messed up enough. What you didn't know at that moment, was that everything was about to change fundamentally very soon.

Alice took no notice of you.

"Bella, listen. Edward thinks you committed suicide. He told me that he doesn't want to live either, so he is on his way to the Volturi to ask them for an execution."

You had no idea what she was talking about. Bella was terrified, and you didn't know what was going on here.

"What, who the fuck are Volturi? Did Edward get involved with some cult? Also, how did he know Bella killed herself?" you asked, not understanding anything of what Alice was talking about earlier.

"We have to go to Italy, Bella,” she ignored you once more. “If they refuse him, I'm not sure what he'll do" as Alice spoke, Bella began to gather herself quickly to leave.

You grabbed her hand.

"And where do you think you are going?" you asked in disbelief. Bella looked at you apologetically.

"Y/N, I have to go. They're going to murder him. Just the fact that I'm alive will convince him."

You snorted in disbelief.

"You're dead serious? And can't you call him and tell him it's a misunderstanding? Besides, Bella, this guy ghosted you. He left you here, alone, with not one explanation and you want to fly to the other side of the world to save this dumb ass?" you asked, trying to take your mind off this ludicrous circumstance.

“Oh my god, we’ll take her with us if she’s not going to back down” said Alice in exasperation.

“And to your kind information, I won't back down. Your douchebag brother and the rest of your family turned her adrift. I was the one who pulled her out of her depression, and I will not let the exact same thing happen again because of any of you,”you hissed out in anger. You saw something in Alice's eyes that you considered to be admiration.

You looked at Bella expectantly.

“Y/N, I still love him. I cannot let this go” Bella whispered and you felt as your chest tightened. “Please…”

You heaved a heavy sigh.

“Okey, but I’m coming with you,” you decided and noticed that Alice's eyes were momentarily clouded with mist. You had no idea what was going on here, but you were sure that this whole affair with the Volturi, whoever the hell they were, didn't sound good.

After a few seconds, Alice looked at Bella, then at you and back at Bella.

“Get your coats, we have to go now,” she said.

“But Alice...” protested Bella.

“There's no time for that. We'll explain everything to her on the way. If we start now, we won't get out of here until noon” she muttered exasperatedly, walking out of the house. You looked at Bella.

“Bells, what's this all about?” you asked, and she just sighed quietly. You both quickly got your shoes on.

“We'll tell you on the plane but I'm afraid the Volturi won't like that a lot,” she said with worried expression on her face.

When you were at the airport waiting for a plane, you had countless questions in your head. Why the fuck Edward was pulling such nonsense? Why to be so dramatic about thing that didn’t even happen? Did this idiot really get involved in some sort of cult? And why was his sister so concerned about it that she decided to tell you ‘everything’, whatever needed to be said? However, the question that kept you wondering was who were the mysterious Volturi and what could they possibly resent about you?

One thing you were sure of. There hadn't been a moment since the sexual assault when you hadn't thought about it. And now your thoughts were occupied by the mysterious Volturi and you immensely wanted to find out what it was really all about.

⋎⋎⋎

On a plane ride, you found out that vampires are no fairy tales and your best friend was in love with one. It was a wild thought but, as soon as Alice started taking, you knew it wasn’t a joke. You were given so much information at once that you were unable to respond to anything as Alice finished her long monologue. You had a drink of water, although at that moment you very much regretted not being able to drink whisky.

“Okey, lets say I get most of this…” you said with a low voice, trying to be careful with what you’re saying. “But can you tell me who are Volturi and why would they want to decapitate Edward?” you asked, looking sideways, afraid that someone might hear.

Alice let out a sigh.

“The Volturi are the equivalent of the justice system in our world. They are the ones who created the laws that help us hide from the world, and they are the ones who enforce them. They consider themselves… sort of royalty, as their leaders – Aro, Caius and Marcus – are over three thousand years old.”

If you were to be honest, you were not very good at processing this information. Three thousand years? The first thought that popped into your mind was that they must be immensely lonely. You were sure you wouldn't want to live so many years without having anyone worthy by your side. Later, Alice quickly summarised all the laws that every vampire must obey. They weren't complicated, but when you thought about it a little longer, some of them weren't so easy to follow.

“I don't want to whine, or come off as ungrateful or anything like that, but... didn't you just break the law? By telling me about you?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if what you were saying was right.

Alice sighed again, this time heavier than before.

“It’s complicated” she said succinctly, which interested Bella, who was eating some kind of sandwich.

“This vision of yours was about [Y/N]?” she asked Alice curiously. Alice merely nodded. When Alice told you about her gift, and this was at the very beginning of the story, you found it hard to believe. It wasn’t so unbelievable now.

"Eat something," Alice said to you. "It's good for the baby" she added after a moment, seeing you hesitate. You swallowed heavily, as you suddenly felt sick. The memories of that evening came back.

Alice smiled softly, as if knowing exactly what you were thinking about. And this was supposed to be Edward's gift.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" she asked, and your eyes almost fell out.

"Can you predict that?" you asked in disbelief. She and Bella both smiled. Alice nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, sure. I can't predict if the baby... you know, if it will be born, however, the sex I can tell you.”

You pondered on it, while eating your sandwich. The nausea eased, when you could think of something different than that unlucky evening. Before you knew it, you fell asleep and Alice woke you up when you landed in Italy. As Alice drove the stolen car, you tried to admire the beautiful views of Tuscany outside your window. When you had almost reached Volterra, you thought how wonderful it would be to live here.

⋎⋎⋎

This stupid boyfriend of hers. That was all his fault. Of course, Bella made it at the last minute. You, together with Alice, went to abandon the stolen car somewhere. Although, you had a feeling that you would be returning the exact same way. You tried to reassure yourself. Of course you’ll be returning. Or maybe not? If you were honest, you gave no fucks about it. You had no one who’d wait for you at home, your parents died, you were brutally raped not so long ago, and you didn’t even know if you wanted to keep the baby. Maybe dying today isn’t such a bad idea?

You have reached the square and entered the palace at a very convenient time. The guy who looked like a wardrobe and the other one, much shorter than him and blonde, looked like they were about to murder Edward in this instant. And actually, you felt like you could’ve murdered Edward too. Barely Alice closed the door, you didn't even glance at the two of them, but immediately began to scold Edward for what he had done. To hell with his gift!

“You stupid, immature, irresponsible, reckless and selfish bastard!” you started descriptively, and even Bella was taken aback by your behaviour. Alice raised her eyebrows and two other vampires looked at themselves and then straight at you. Edward had no time for any reply. “If you ever, I repeat, if you ever again do something as childish and irresponsible as expose my best friend to a nervous breakdown and months of depression, I promise you, here and now, that I will decapitate you myself. You're old, and yet a five-year-old child is smarter than you. You utter imbecile,” you hissed with hatred.

Of course, your malice towards him was temporary, but it's been a long time since anyone has angered you like that. The shorter man laughed under his breath, and the other one, who looked like a wardrobe, said:

“Can we keep her? I like the way she’s ruling the roost.”

He fell silent, as a short, pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her face was like a child's, but her eyes... bright red, staring at no one else but you.

“Jane” greeted her Edward. She didn’t even look at him.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long” she said. The atmosphere immediately became tense. Edward and Alice seemed to stiffen at the sound of Aro's name. You were curious but not frightened. Not yet.

Jane turned and immediately started walking towards the long corridor. Bella just looked at Edward, and you glanced at Alice.

“Do what she says,” she muttered to you and you both kept pace with the couple in the front.

Needless to say, it was the most stressful and also the most terrifying lift ride you've ever experienced. Not to add the creepy music background. You guessed it was supposed to make you feel better, but instead it made your whole stomach go up to your throat. You were standing right in the middle, next to Bella, holding Alice's hand. The vampire, who looked like a wardrobe, kept looking at you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Puking on someone's shoes isn't going to make this situation any better. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Edward smile. Yeah, the situation you’ve found yourself in was extremely funny indeed.

When you reached the main chamber, you didn't know what to look at first. At the vampires standing against every wall? Not very wise of you. At the marble floor? Nothing to be afraid of for now, so no. You probably should have looked at the three thrones in front of you and the vampires that sat on them, but instead, you were interested in the Latin phrase engraved between the columns above you.

You glanced at your company. Edward looked as if he was about to die. Maybe that's what's going to happen? Alice looked very out of sorts, and Bella, well, she was hanging onto Edward's arm and also looked like she was about to leave this world for good. She was unnaturally pale and you though she was going to faint any second. But it never happened. The rest of the room felt extremely comfortable. For a moment, you turned your head towards the boy who called out to Jane. You did not let go of Alice's hand but you did not feel any anxiety. Curiosity prevailed, mainly because you had come to terms with the fact of your imminent death.

“Sister! Sent you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves,” the boy who’s just called Jane his sister probably was talking about me and Bella. “Such a clever girl,” he praised her like he wasn’t his sister but someone else entirely. You sighed heavily. Maybe they’re also into incest-kind-of-relationships? Who knows. You looked above your head again. There was a short inscription “vita brevis, ars longa” but you knew the rest of it. Latin was obligatory in every medical school.

When the man from the middle throne stood up, it was to him that you directed all your attention. You felt that something about him was... you had no idea how to describe it, but you felt a strange pull towards him. As if some invisible force had power over you.

“What a happy surprise!” he said pointedly, wide smile on his face. “Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful?” he said cheerfully, while walking towards Edward. At that exact moment, you realised that you had managed to get yourself into a huge mess. The lair of the vampires. And you were only a weak human. Recently raped. With a baby under your heart.

As soon as the man stepped down from the platform, you were unable to take your eyes off him. His posture, the way he spoke, his demeanour, it all made you feel incredible respect for him. You’ve never felt this secure and calm in your entire life.

“I love a happy ending,” the man said, while he took Edwards’ hand into his. “They’re so rare.”

You were wondering why this man took Edward’s hand in the first place. You did not have to wait long for an explanation.

“Aro can read every thought that I’ve ever had. With one touch” Edward explained to Bella but you were listening too. Very carefully listening. You’ve finally managed to know the name of the vampire. Aro. It suited him well. Although his eyes were a little scary, you were delighted with his charisma and approach to guests. You realised that indeed, they are called the royal family for a reason.

Aro smiled to Edward.

“Her blood appears to you so much,” he whispered, and you had a hard time hearing his words well. Aro’s gaze rested on Bella. “It makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” he asked Edward, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable. You could tell by the fact that he was practically standing like a statue.

“It is not without difficulty,” muttered Edward from behind his clenched teeth.

You swallowed hard, as Aro turned his gaze to Bella again but he smiled.

“Ah, I can see that” he said pleased, moving away from Edward and focusing all his attention on Bella.

“Although you’re a quite soul-reader yourself, Edward, you cannot read Bella’s thoughts” he made a rather dramatic pause, still staring stubbornly at your best friend. “Fascinating” he said, not hiding his curiosity.

You managed to look elsewhere, than at Aro. The man on the throne to your left seemed unusually agitated. He fixed his gaze on you, as if his life depended on it, yet you did not feel uncomfortable. You were surprised to discover that an invisible force was also drawing you towards him. You almost took a step forward. You tried to remember the man from a few minutes ago. He looked as if he had died in that chair a few centuries ago. And now he seemed genuinely moved.

“Brother” the man spoke to Aro, as he got up from his throne. Indeed, there seemed to be an urgency to the matter, for Aro turned around in surprise. You had the impression that the man from the throne had not risen from it for a long time.

“You knew about this, and you brought her anyway?” you heard Edward's quiet whisper, directed at Alice.

Alice looked at her brother, then at you and finally at a curious Aro.

"It would have happened anyway. Better sooner than later" Alice murmured mysteriously. You still didn't know what it was even about. The third man, the one on your right, did not share his brothers' patience.

"Aro, let's hurry this up, Heidi will be here soon, and we don't want to frighten our guests" he said ominously, grinning like a madman. You were far from solving this riddle, but as soon as you looked at him, you felt the same attraction and enigmatic pulling as towards the other two.

Aro took his brother's hand in his own and you could see that his eyes would have lit up with happiness if they could.

“Ah, my dear Marcus! What an exceptional news!” intoned Aro cheerfully, heading towards you. He was slow in his movements, exactly so that you would not be frightened by him. All his movements were framed by an incredible grace.

“My dear, if I may, what is your name?” he asked, coming closer to you. You were unable to take your eyes off him. It was exactly, as if he had hypnotised you, only the feeling was more addictive. You didn't have to have a gift or to be a vampire to know that. For a split second, you ran out of breath and just stared into his red irises.

“My name is [Y/N]” you said, with your voice trembling, as your throat tightened hard under the intense emotions. You couldn't believe it was really happening. Maybe it was just a dream? Maybe these three beautiful men are just a figment of your imagination? You didn't even want to think about the fact that it might not be true.

Aro smiled encouragingly, while looking at you with all the attention that he’d possibly give you. You felt like nothing more was more important than you to him at that exact moment.

"It is an incredible pleasure to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Aro, but you already know that.”

The smile never left his face and during this brief exchange of words, neither of you took your eyes off the other. You felt that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Aro extended his alabaster hand in an inviting gesture.

“May I, my dear?” he asked you politely.

You gulped. Of course, you wanted to show him that you didn't want to give away their secret. You wanted to show him the strange bond you felt towards him and his brothers. However, there were things you didn't want him to see. You felt deep down inside that this attraction had an explanation and you didn't want him to see... Not that. You’d felt exposed and extremely embarrassed. There was also another issue. His hand. You'd hugged Bella twice since it happened and just now you were holding Alice's hand. You didn't know if, when you touched him, you'd start screaming or crying because you were so afraid of someone else's touch.

Yet, his hand looked so inviting, almost familiar, as if you'd already had the chance to touch it before. Aro himself showed no impatience. He waited, still gazing into your blue irises with his crimson eyes. You extended your hand towards him, at first cautiously, and then with a little more confidence. You took a deep breath, before your fingers made contact. When it happened, you felt as if you had come home after many years of wandering. He closed your hand in his, just as he had done with Edward's. His skin was cold, but he handled you extremely gently. You stared into his eyes as he looked at your thoughts and memories of your whole life. You knew instantly when he was done because he smiled sadly at you. He squeezed your hand gently in his.

"Never again, my love. Never again," he assured passionately, and then he leaned down to place a kiss on your hand. It was so light and as gentle as a breeze on a summer day. You couldn't help but smile.

Aro clapped his hands. He was clearly pleased with what had just happened between you.

"Aro, will you explain to me what's going on? I'm sick of waiting," said the nervous brother, who was the only one with blond hair. Aro smiled widely and turned towards him.

"Ah, Caius, you'll never guess. Finally, after so many years, our mate has honoured us with her presence" he said overjoyed and Caius frowned in awe. You were already able to tell that this did not happen often. Marcus, on the other hand, was sitting on his throne, smiling, still looking in your direction. You didn't miss the glances of the other vampires either. Was it some sort of celebration when Marcus was smiling?

“What does that mean?” it was Bella who snapped that question. Aro immediately appeared by her side. He gently stroked her hair, pulling an unruly strand behind her ear. You felt the sting of jealousy, when he touched her face. You should be the one asking that question and not her.

“Ah, and dear Isabella. What to do with you,” he wondered aloud, as if asking others for advice. “As I have far more important matters to deal with....” he began, looking directly at you. “I’d love to see if you’re an exception to my gift as well,” he whispered to Bella, extending his hand towards her. She didn't have much choice, did she? She took his hand, a little hesitantly, but after a short while Aro moved away.

“Interesting” he muttered. “I see nothing.”

“You already know what you’ll do with her, Aro” said Marcus, his eyes never leaving your person. “Just do it, as we want to know our little angel a bit more.”

You looked at Bella for a moment. She was terrified, not only with her own case, but also with yours. You have already guessed that you are not going anywhere. They would never let you out of their hands. Aro knew perfectly well that you didn't even have anything to go back to. Of course, you had plenty of questions, but you were sure it wasn't about your case now. Just about Bella's situation and what the Cullens had done, or rather what they hadn't done. However, you guessed it, Bella was afraid you wouldn't get out of here alive, and at the same time, you were worried about the exact same thing but about her.

Aro was smiling continuously.

“I have an idea” he said, after a long while. He approached Alice this time. “Would you be so kind, dear, and show me if you saw Bella's transformation in your vision?”

You were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a request. Alice undid her glove and boldly gave Aro her hand. He was absent for a moment and then smiled again. You were impressed by the aura he spread around himself. When he smiled, you felt like smiling too. You still had the impression that it was only a dream, and simultaneously you were sure that it was really happening. Aro's touch was definitely real, you couldn’t forget his cool hands embracing your own.

“Ah, lovely. I know everything now,” he declared. You and Bella probably looked similarly confused, but you weren't the least bit concerned and she was as pale as a sheet.

Aro turned directly to Edward.

“As I have seen Isabella's transformation in Alice's vision, I can let you go with peace of mind, my dear young friends. I trust that a date will be set sooner, rather than later and that I will be able to see for myself, what your mate will be capable of, Edward. As for you, Isabella, you are promising immortal material and I hope your potential will not go to waste," he said, this time speaking directly to Bella.

She was still brave enough to look him in the eye.

“And what with [Y/N]? You never mentioned what will happen to her” she noticed, looking in your direction. You smiled gently to her.

“I’m staying here, Bella” you said calmly, trying to reassure her with your tone of voice that all shall be all right.

You saw pure admiration and joyousness on Aro’s face as you said that.

“Isn’t she remarkable, brothers?” he asked Marcus and Caius, who looked as if they had just received the most beautiful Christmas present.

Bella seemed to be thoroughly outrageous.

“You can’t be serious [Y/N]! You cannot stay here, please, come back with us. You cannot be here while you’re pregnant” she cried, holding your hand and looking at you with disbelief.

What she said made you very uncomfortable and extremely upset.

"Bella, I have nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. You knew that if Alice told me everything, it would have to be resolved somehow," you stated matter-of-factly, squeezing her hand in yours. "I can't go back there, Bells." Your throat tightened with despair as memories of recent events flooded inside your mind. You tried to hold back tears.

"I am a shadow of my former self. I'm afraid to leave the house alone to go shopping or to work. This paranoia is overwhelming me, Bella. I keep turning behind me to see if anyone is following me on the street. I cry at night, knowing that it doesn't change anything. And then there's this unfortunate baby," you sighed helplessly, trying not to burst with tears. "Even if I keep it, I don't want it to have a mother who's afraid to leave the house. I can't live like this, we both know that" you whispered, squeezing her hands in yours again.

“But you cannot possibly be mated with all three of them” Bella whispered with despair in her eyes. You only smiled, sensing that this sentence got on Kings’ nerves, especially Caius’s.

“I think it’s predestined, Bella. Just as you are destined to be with Edward, I do belong here, with my mates” you said cautiously, glancing at Aro and looking for approval in his eyes. He was only looking at you with delight, as he said nothing.

You saw that Bella had hard time processing such information, whilst Edward and Alice said nothing at all. You knew that Alice knew prior about this, and Edward could see the vision in her thoughts. You pulled Bella into a comfortable hug.

“Hey, sister, we don’t see each other the very last time. We’ll meet again. Probably in a different…condition but still.”

Bella looked devastated.

“You promise me that?” she asked warily, her tone full of hope. You smiled at her.

“Of course I do.” You kissed her cheek and caressed her long, brown hair. “We can call each other, you know. It’s not like I’m moving to the Moon,” you joked, to release the tension a bit. To your astonishment, everybody in the room laughed at that. It made you blush, just a little tiny bit.

After another farewell, in which this time you also included Alice and Edward (barely, because you were still mad at him) and an official farewell from Aro, who told them to give his friend kind regards from him, the guests left the chamber.

They left, and Aro was immediately by your side. He gently stroked your long blonde hair, but didn't touch a single piece of a skin. After the display of your memories, he probably knew very well that you did not wish any touch for the time being.

You still couldn't free yourself from under his spell and if you were to be honest, you didn't want to at all. Aro offered you his arm.

"I believe, we have much to discuss, my love."

You took his arm gratefully.

"I have a ton of questions," you admitted as you walked out of the chamber with Marcus and Caius slowly following you. You didn't need to look back, the strange bonds that drew you together informed you of their presence in a yet unknown way.

Aro, as usual, smiled magnificently.

"My dear, one thing at a time," he said in a gentle tone, as he patted your forearm with tenderness. When you entered the study with the round table, Aro immediately pushed back a chair for you.

"No one is to disturb us" you heard Caius' sharp tone as he closed the door behind you. You tried to feel comfortable and at ease. After all, this was your home from now on.

Part 2 | Part 3

[issaxcharlie]

Ghost Of You 2/2

Pairing: Ghost! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke, Reggie and Alex have to assimilate their loss. For Luke of his girlfriend, and for the others of their best friend after suddenly learning that she didn’t have the future they imagined, and instead died 23 years ago.

Thank you to @cookiebuba for being the head of the entire idea and trusting me with it, and to Emy for almost holding my hand to force me to write🤣💜

PART 1 HERE

“It can’t be.”

“Luke, I-”

"No, Julie. You are not telling me that the woman of my life, the purest person who has ever stepped on this world, not only lost her partner and her best friends, but was only able to live her life for two more years and then ended in a horrible accident. It's as if life wanted to torture her before taking her too.”

“Love of ?... Zeppelin shirt you wore when you ran away. Of course.”

“I- It can’t be true, please tell me it’s not true, Julie.”

“Luke... she loved you so much.”

He falls on the floor. The impact is strong, as if his legs have stopped working.

"I know." He whispers slowly, his gaze empty as multiple tears fall from his eyes.

The rest of the gang threw themselves to the ground around him and hugged him with all their might, trying to unite his broken pieces without any success. Alex and Reggie each crying silently over the loss of their sweet friend.

“What day did she pass away? Alex whispers.

"Let me search, one moment." Julie gets up quickly and checks on her laptop to find a little note about the singer's death.

"The rising singer Y/N Y/L who had just released the biggest hit of her career passed away this afternoon in a terrible car accident after leaving the cemetery where her late boyfriend, Luke Patterson, was buried. Y/L was there in commemoration of the 2 years of the loss of the aspiring musician, who died from a sudden tragic intoxication along with the rest of his band. Something to rescue from this tragedy is that at least she's already reunited with her eternal love. May both rest in peace.”

“This can’t be. My Y/N can’t be gone. Not her, not like that.” Luke is still in denial, unable to believe that his little girl suffered such a terrible ending.

“Maybe she’s not. There's still a chance that she's also a ghost.”

“Yeah, Julie’s right. We need to look out for her, we can't write her off without trying to find her first.” Reggie's eyes sparkle with hope, rushing to cover Alex's mouth in case he says anything other than motivating.

Luke takes his flannel and disappears immediately. Both Reggie and Alex stare sadly at Julie who simply whispers a "go, he needs you." They nod and teleport to their friend.

As expected, Luke is in front of the window of an old music store. He met his girlfriend here so many years ago, the day his parents agreed to buy him his first guitar.

The store had a small section where customers could try out some instruments and she was playing the guitar they had there and singing for the small audience. It seemed like it was something she did often because both the workers and certain customers seemed familiar with the girl.

Luke was captivated by her from the first moment. The energy and passion that radiated from her in every move was unreal. He had never seen anyone happier, much less singing with a borrowed guitar from a small downtown store.

The store is completely abandoned, so without saying anything he comes in and walks towards the small stage.

The ghosts of two 12-year-old kids singing together into the microphone invades his memory. If they only knew.

"Do you remember what was the first thing she said to you?" Reggie and Alex sit next to him on the floor, looking straight at the very small stage. They both try to imagine what their friends must have looked like singing here together the first time. Luke totally invading little Y/N's presentation trying to captivate her with his 0% music experience and 100% of enthusiasm.

Luke laughs through tears. "You have the voice of a country singer."

Alex starts crying when he imagines her. He met her just a few weeks later so he knows exactly how she must have looked and sound.

Reggie smiles while shedding a tear, remembering all those afternoons Y/N convinced Luke to join them in their country sessions. He knows that's why Luke hasn't wanted to know anything about country or his songs since they got back. They remind him of his sweet girl.

“I was so offended. I still didn't know anything about music but I had already decided that I would be a rocker. If I hadn't already been so dazzled by her I would have left without looking back.”

“And what did you answer to defend your honor?”

"You think so?" The three of them start laughing while still crying. A heartbreaking mix of pain comes from their chests.

“C’mon guys, next stop.”

The three of them were teletransporting around the city during the day without any success. Luke's desperation increasing for every place the songwriter wasn't.

At night the three decide to go back to the studio. Luke is heartbroken, bloated after crying all day, eyes red and sore, and whatever it was that was driving him to continue, off.

His friends couldn't do much for him either because each was living the loss in their own way, concentrating on living their own pain until they could process it.

Julie wraps them in blankets on the couch and tries to fill them with love, making sure to hug Luke tightly, who seems about to fall apart.

“Does anyone want to talk about her? Maybe it could make you feel better.”

“She was my entire soul, the words and melody in each of my songs. I just, I love her more than anything in this world. I would give anything for her. My guitar, my voice, my songs, whatever it took for us to be together. I know it doesn't seem like it at this point, but we belong together.”

“We know you do, man.”

“I didn't tell you but I dream about her almost every night since we got back. It is always the same dream. She is in bed, leaving my side intact. She's wearing one of my shirts and hugging my favorite one while sobbing. She falls asleep listening to the ballad I wrote for her soaked in tears and no matter how hard I try to wake her up, I can't get her to see or hear me. I can’t get her. After a few minutes she gets up still asleep and begins to dance as we did so many times, but alone. Then she stops and starts crying again inconsolably. And that's when I wake up."

"I'm so sorry, Luke. She deserved so much more." Reggie walks over to hug him, his head resting on his arm while he sobs.

“We couldn't even say goodbye to her.” Alex cries, his eyes completely red.

“We already know that she visited your graves, perhaps we could do the same, dedicate a few words to her.” Julie offers in an attempt to help them find some peace.

Luke looks devastated, but he nods his head as tears continue to fall from his face, the ring that his girlfriend gave him going in and out of his finger. Alex hugs Julie while she strokes his hair in an effort to calm him down and Reggie runs up to get a notebook and pencil to start planning what to say to his best friend tomorrow.

The three of them hang around all night, crying, writing, hugging, remembering the spark of Sunset Curve. In the morning before going to visit her, they realize is exactly the 25th anniversary of that tragic night that changed the lives of the four forever. Luke nearly punches a hole in the wall upon hearing the sad coincidence.

Her grave is right next to Luke's, who has never been here before and can't help but feel a bit anxious.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start.” Reggie tells the guitarist as he takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips.

"Hello, princess. Long time, huh? I'm Reggie, by the way. In case you don't recognize me from the slight change in my hair. I am trying a little more gel, I want something more elegant and classic. What do you think? Yes, I also thought you would like it.” Julie and Alex smile at hearing him talk to her as natural as possible.

“I tried very hard to think of what to say, because if there is anyone who deserves my best words, it is you. And three things came to mind that I want to share with you.

First, the color yellow.

Yellow like the guitar you were saving for two years to buy. You did everything. You were a babysitter, you walked dogs, you worked in the school library, you sang with your old acoustic guitar in every cafe, basically everything that will let you win some money.

And the day before you could finally go buy it, my dad broke my bass in a moment of anger in one of his typical fights with mom that got really out of hand. At least he didn’t hurt her, huh? But when you're a kid you don't even think about the possibility that something like that could happen, you just focus on the broken instrument in your hand. I ran out and ended up on the stairs of your house with my face soaked and one of the broken pieces in my hand.

You hugged me and promised that everything would be fine. That I was always going to have you four and that we would always be family. You assured me that good things happen to good people. And I believed you, you know? You were always right. But now that I'm here, that I know you didn't have the happy ending you deserved, I'm honestly not so sure anymore.”

Luke and Alex start crying again, each hugging Reggie from one side. Reg tries with all his might to continue through the tears, while Julie looks at them with a broken heart.

“The next day when I came back from school a new bass was on my bed. You talked to Mom so she could take the credit for the gift, but coincidentally was exactly the bass that I fell in love with a year earlier when we went to check if your beloved yellow guitar hadn't dropped in price. Luke revealed to me a few months later that you had to borrow money from your mom in order to complete the exact money for that one.

How generous do you have to be in order to do something like that? how noble? How loving? How selfless? You were always more than I deserved. I was supposed to be like an older brother for you, but it was always you who took care of me. I have Julie and Carlos, and I'm trying to be with them as you were with me. I had the best step sister in the world to teach me, and I hope I can do you justice.” Julie starts crying too after hearing his words, and resists the urge to going to hug him because she knows that they need their space to let go all the suffering that they carry.

“Second, my leather jacket.

When we started the band we made a 100% commitment to being rockstars. And a very important part is the look. You accompanied me on a walk around the city looking for the right outfit to literally go sing to the people who were lining up in front of the clubs.

Anyone could have left me alone on that for multiple reasons, not even these two wanted to face the trouble. But you followed me without thinking twice.

The afternoon was over and we still haven't found anything. Our feet couldn't take it anymore and we had 10 minutes to run to the club. But we stopped by a little store that had a black leather jacket in the window and you said, Reg, this is it.

You excitedly took me by the hand and when I tried it on, the rest was history.

Then I tried to get the whole band to use them but these two boys without fashion sense didn’t want to. You, on the other hand, supported me and wore your leather jacket during all the Sunset Curve performances we had, convincing me that they were our good luck charms and that if we both used them everything would be amazing. Oh god, I miss you so much.

And third, a star.

I thought you were a star when I heard you sing for the first time.

I thought you were a star when you and Luke managed to write the whole Sunset Curve album in 2 months.

I thought you were a star when you bought me my bass, when you made Alex feel better after one of his strongest attacks, when you filled Luke with love and support when he needed it the most.

And I believe it now that I know you are gone.

If you are in heaven, you have to be a star. And not just a star, the brightest star of all. I promise to look for your light every night to wish you sweet dreams. I will also sing you some country since you were the only one who appreciated my incredible sound, I hope it makes you smile.”

“That was beautiful, Reggie. I’m sure she loved it.” Julie finally reaches out to hug him as Alex prepares to be next.

“Hey. I don’t even know where to start.

I- I guess I should start saying I could never pay you all the times you were there to pick me up when I needed someone the most. I went back to dancing a little again. It's not the same without you, but somehow it makes me feel you close. I also met someone, oh Y/N, he’s so special, I'm sure you would have loved him and I would have loved the opportunity to introduce him to you. You were always there.

You were there to support me when I decided to learn drums to cope with my anxiety. You sang the song I was practicing over and over to keep me company and reassure me that what I was doing sounded good.

You were there to support me when I told you I like to dance. We spent hours choreographing different iconic songs and just laughing and enjoying creating more memories together.

Not shocking at this point but you were also there for me when I confessed to my parents I’m gay and you gave me strength all those times that I wanted to fall because they no longer saw me the same way.

You were always my safe place. And I regret with all my heart that I couldn’t be yours.”

Alex breaks down. She kept them on their feet during her darkest days and they paid her off by causing her the most horrible pain imaginable. Julie and Reggie surround her in their arms while sobbing. The last one of the band standing moves closer to the grave and drops to his knees.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so fucking sorry.” Luke tries to be strong, but tears start falling like waterfalls from his eyes, his face red in a mixture of despair, sadness and anger.

“I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone. Baby, I've been without you for only 1 month and I’m going crazy, even with the boys and Julie by my side. I don't even want to imagine what you must have been through those two years. My soul is shattered just thinking about it.

At first when we returned I imagined you were happy after having fulfilled all our plans with someone else. And I thought nothing could hurt me more than that, but obviously I was wrong. Because although it hurt me that I couldn’t be the one who was with you, thinking that you had been happy gave me the peace to be able to continue. Now that I know that life took away your opportunity, the only thing I feel is anger.

Anger towards me, anger towards destiny. Anger at not being able to be together even after death. Since we discovered where you are, I have only been able to think of cross over and finally be with you again.

Or at least go back to the night before everything turned into a nightmare. Fall asleep with you in my arms one more time.

I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss, as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“Hello again, my love.

I can't believe 25 years have passed. First of all, I want you to know that I'm okay. Or well, the equivalent for ghosts that are destined to haunt the earth alone for all eternity. I made a friend for several years, Rose. I told you about her, remember? I know you guys would have been good friends, she was a ridiculously talented musician. Since she died I no longer had the strength to go back to the studio, but for a long time I enjoyed her company in one of my favorite places. She promised to tell you that I'm waiting for you. I will wait whatever time is necessary, okay? I love you so much, baby.

You three are always on my mind, and I think I can finally accept that the pain is just never going to go away. But lately something super strange has happened to me, let me tell you.

Throughout these years, in the darkest days, I see you. But, they were always memories.

A month ago, I started to see you having other kinds of experiences and I honestly don't know how to feel about it. Am I going that crazy? I selfishly hoped that you too were ghosts for so many years. I looked for you 5, 10, 15, 20 years. And just as I decide to give up, my head imagines you all over the city.

The first time I saw you singing Reggie's jam on the beach. You guys looked so happy, love. It filled my heart with peace for a few seconds, knowing that somewhere up there you are enjoying life singing together all day.

Then I saw my beloved Alex with a cute boy. My heart melted, I can’t even explain how much I wanted to run to hug him and gossip about it.

Baby, he looked so peaceful. I always wanted that for Alex. I didn't know whether to be happy or cry because that didn’t actually happen, so I did both.

The penultimate time was a few nights ago when I was walking in front of the Orpheum and I heard your voices. How wicked my mind is, right? A knife to the heart would hurt less.

And now, I can't even get close to your grave because I'm imagining you all again.”

Y/N doesn't know what to do, if she gets close enough will they disappear? What If they don’t? Will she bear to see them up close? She has been dancing with their ghosts in her dreams for so many years, but It’s not the same as doing it when she is fully awake.

She is about to run out of there in fear when the silhouette of a fourth person catches her attention. She doesn't know why, but it immediately reminds her of Rose. Could it be that she is imagining her friend too?

Curiosity is stronger than fear, like all those times when she got into trouble with her boys. She walks carefully towards her grave which is next to her beloved Luke.

“I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“I don't freaking snore, I told you a million times already... and now I'm talking with my imagination, great.”

The band turns in shock towards the fifth voice. That's when she can see the girl's face and realize who she is.

“Julie? But, how?”

“Y/N?” Alex whispers on the verge of passing out.

She starts to panic, just before the boys can do something about it, a new person appears behind her.

“Hey, you took a long time." She turns around and jumps into the arms of who has become her only friend in recent years.

“Phoenix, thank god.” Her body continues to shake but she clings tightly to her friend while crying uncontrollably.

To say the ghosts are confused would be an understatement. And apart from that, the guitarist is having many conflicts with the jealousy that he is feeling at the moment. They haven't seen each other in 25 years and when they finally do, she runs into someone else's arms and clings to him like her life depends on it.

What does that mean for them? Is it too late?

“Beautiful, what's wrong? Who are they? Oh, wait. You guys were at the club a few weeks ago, you're friends with Willie, right?”

Luke feels like dying all over again hearing him call her that. She continues to shake but finally lets go.

“What? You can see them?”

“Shouldn’t I?” He looks at her skeptical and shifts his eyes from her to the ghosts.

“I- Oh my god. I'm going to pass out.“

“Baby, look at me.” Luke’s voice is a mix between a plea and a demand. The terror of knowing that perhaps he has already lost her without having had the opportunity to fight for her clouds his judgment and tears begin to fall from his face again.

25 years. 25 years fighting not to forget his voice. 25 years having him only in dreams, in memories, in melodies. 25 years waiting for him. 25 years on her own.

She turns slowly to meet those honey-green eyes she craved for so long to see, a painful smile from Luke makes her smile through tears.

She carefully lifts her right hand and gently draws it to his cheek, almost exploding at the feel of it.

“You came back. Oh my, It’s really you.” She jumps to the guitarist, entwining her legs at his hips, her arms tangled with all her strength around him, her head buried in his neck inhaling his scent. Tears coming out as if to drown her, all the pain and suffering that she faced all these years finally leaving her body.

Luke wraps her tightly in his arms, still unable to process what’s happening.

Alex and Reggie begin to smile without fully assimilating what is happening, while Julie begins to jump of joy.

“Babygirl, I'm sorry to ruin the moment but I have to rush to the club. Will you be okay here?"

“She's always safe with me." The guitarist growls, and Y/N starts laughing when she hears it.

"The jealous, protective baby in the beanie is right, don't worry Nix. I’ll go and find you later."

Phoenix nods with a smile and disappears. Julie begins to scold Luke while Reggie and Alex approach to touch the cheek of their best friend, still in the arms of the guitarist who does not seem to have any intention of letting go.

“We should go home to catch up. Reggie and I will accompany Julie, it seems that you two should speak alone first." Luke doesn't think twice and disappears with her in his arms.

“Good things happen to good people.” Reggie whispers as he hugs his friends and they start walking home.

Luke and Y/N reappear in the studio and they are both shocked for a few seconds. The girl trembles again in fear of dreaming.

“Hey, come here baby. Shh, I’m here, I promise.”

“Don’t leave me ever again, please.” He can see that it is very difficult for her to understand that is really happening, and to think that she lived without him not 2 but 25 years makes him want to cry again.

“I won’t. I promise, beautiful. Never again.” Luke wraps her in his arms, but she lifts her head from his chest to push her lips against his. The kiss is urgent, but they both instantly recognize each other and fit in perfectly. Luke picks her up again and gently lays her down on the couch, both desperate to feel the other, to recognize every inch.

“I missed you so much baby, I love you more than anything.” Luke whispers between kisses, not willing to have her an inch away from him.

“I love you my love. I love you, I love you, I love you.” She says while kissing the love of her life, happy for the first time in 25 years.

Before things get to escalate, the rest of the band shows up in the studio followed by Julie who clearly walks through the door.

"Let go of her man, it's our turn!" Y/N gets up quickly from the sofa while her boyfriend complains and she throws herself at both of them who pick her up as best they can and spin her in the air.

They put her down and Julie and her stare each other, both raise their arms and meet in a quick but sweet hug.

“You said my name back there, how?” The question that she has stuck since she met her finally coming to light.

“I met your mom many years ago when I came to visit the studio and realized that she could see me. We were friends for many years and I had the opportunity to see you grow up, but I always made sure to be upstairs when you came in in case you could see me too.”

“Well, now I understand how Carlos felt when he found out that we lived with ghosts. And It sounds like mom watches over us both from heaven.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does.” Both girls smile and hug each other once more.

“I can't believe I endured 25 years without having those beautiful arms around me.” She whispers as they both lie on the couch, Luke has her completely cornered in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It breaks my heart that you have suffered that much for so many years.”

“It was not your fault. You lost as much as I did that night. Besides, I always knew that you would find me sooner or later. We belong together.”

“We do. I, I k-know we have way more to talk about but, who was the dude from the cementery?”

The insecurity in his voice is evident and Y/N can't help but smile. His emotions are complex, real, and nothing can make her happier than that.

“I’ll tell you all about my friend later, okay? For now... dance with me? I want to dance with the real deal.” He smiles and they both stand up, hugging each other as they slowly move through the studio as they did many times before life separated them.

The Luke in her arms is her Luke, the same one she has been waiting for so many years, finally back in her arms. And just as she thought when she lived, she will dance with his ghost for all eternity.

Thank you for reading✨✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @tessxblxckthorn

Goy tags: @eternalharry @xplrreylo

[faith3191]

The Excerpt of a Lonely Housewife

I never have expected my life to be like this, at 31. Married…but single and alone. As a little girl, I dreamed of a man that would come take me away from this hell I lived in. Growing up with a single Mama as your only role model, (one whom had been controlled her whole life) sure made things interesting. Sure I had a father, but one who loved his wrestling career and poor choices in wives more than actually being a father. See, I’ve always been on the back burner to the important men in my life, so that's what I learned love was…An only “sometimes” thing that I craved.

I would go most of my teenage life making mistakes, looking for love in all the wrong places. So sure…I had mommy and daddy issues, because I also looked for the love i was lacking in my “distant-but-there” mother in the friendships I made. I always just wanted to be accepted. And if I wasn't, it broke my sensitive heart.

I met the man that I called my future ex-husband in the beginning. This man inspired Carrie Underwood's “Cowboy Casanova” hit song. His charmingly blue eyes and southern drawl had me hooked. His work ethic was good and that's what I was looking for, considering my past ex had none. This man was bad in all the right ways and I thought to myself, “here is a man that has his shit together.” Sure he has a few kinks to work out, but it was do-able. Ha! I wasn't prepared for the “shitshow” that would be.

Here this “bull of a man” was, with more issues than I ever thought about having. He didn't like Christmas because they didn't celebrate it, or ever even had a tree when he was a child. Okay cool, my new goal was to make him love Christmas as much as I did. It was like I was giving this grown man a childhood through giving my kids one as well. I slowly over the years watched his eyes light up more and more at Christmas time, which was a goal in itself. That would always end bad a few days later as the anniversary of his his dads death rolled around. That was grounds for him to get drunk and fight with me because he couldn’t handle his heart being broke, or being sad. It came out as anger.

March 2014, we welcomed my third child, (his first, a boy) into the world. That little boy came out looking like him and acting like him just as much. That was his pride and joy…never seen a man beam with so much joy! As he held him he looked at me and said "I will never pick up another bottle.” He named our son after his father “Charlie.”

I had high hopes he meant that promise, as I held him to it. That promise was shattered when he did in fact pick up many more bottles. The first time in particular, I had to fight with him to get the keys out of his hand. The first of many times…and each time got harder and harder because he liked to travel when he was drunk. I used to have nightmares he would leave me, and he did a lot. But he always came back, so I was like “cool, Daniel wont ever leave me!” A blessing and a curse, all wrapped into one. Trust me, you’ll see what I mean.

In February 2017 we got engaged, not a dream come true like i pictured as a big eyed little girl when I dreamed of my prince. He never would ask me to marry him and then in the mist of a hormone driven temper tantrum ( i was pregnant with our rainbow baby) and yelled at me " I was gonna ask you to marry me, but YOU ruined it. I said Fine forget the proposal we will just get married!

I Spent the next few months not really planning my dream wedding but one i was settling for as i was paying , planning and putting it all together myself. I planned the most low budgeted wedding for right at 500 dollars in under four months. I had skill and determination.

In June of that year , the 10th to be exact that was the day my whole life would change, as he left that morning with our boys in tow i got ready to become a bride with my daughter, mom, and mamaw all there to help me get ready, my dad in the background observing, My mom did my make up and my friend did my hair. I was 6 months pregnant and already glowing.

I heard the music start in the doorway of that church and my arm was sweaty against my dads arm, "you ready?" i heard him ask. I nodded nervously and sucked in my bottom lip. Here i go, about to walk down to the man I would spend the rest of my life with , I must have been really nervous because I practically ran down the aisle.

As I stand there and we say our vows I look behind me at our little boy clung to the tail of my dress whos holding a sign that reads "Daddy here comes Mommy" my life was complete. I really thought i had my happy ending. There was nothing else more in life i could ever want. But oh boy did God have other plans.-- (Part 1)-- i will post part two later!

[joongieboos]

Colder.

Genre: Angst, might make you cry. (I cried)

Trigger warnings: character death, car accidents, police mention, first responder mention, food warning.

Pairing: Huang Renjun x Lee Donghyuck, college AU.

Word count: 2k words.

Plot: Donghyuck doesn’t come home one day, and Renjun doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Tags: @sombreboy​ @spacebikerateez​ @armysantiny​ @heckydizzle​ @bisoo​ @poprock204 @hyunmintae

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“A seven-car pileup that’s stopping traffic on the freeway has now erupted into flames due to one of the vehicles being a tanker truck transporting gasoline. First responders are on the scene and attempting to stop the fire from spreading. We’ll keep you updated.” A reporter states from the helicopter from above, capturing the whole thing on camera. The news always played at home, and it would be on as white noise. There’s always something that’s going on, and he liked to be in the know. There he stood in front of the counter, chopping vegetables as he would do normally, the pans heating up for dinner as he waited for his fiancé to come home. The table was set, the candles lit, and the merlot poured in his glass, his fiancé’s glass still sitting empty on the table. 

 Sirens fill the air as the fire blazes, police, paramedics and firefighters fighting to save the people in the pile of blazing cars. There hasn’t been an explosion from any of the cars just yet and everyone fighting to save the people involved knows that no one will survive the explosion once one car decides to give up. First responders work diligently to get the cars sorted and sated of the flames, the police rerouting the people onto the off-ramp, paramedics on scene waiting for the firefighters to get those affected out, and the firefighters spraying the wetting agent onto the cars to try to subdue the rapidly charring metal. One of the cars, though, was already sparking into the fuel line, causing the fire to roar, the fuel line leading into the tank. 

 From his perspective, the liquid leaking out of the truck that was flipped beside him was his first indication. He felt himself grow colder on the inside, shivering as he tried to move to get himself out of the burning metal can. Few thoughts ran through his head, ultimately leading him to think about his fiancé who would be listening to the news at home, not paying any mind to the background noise. It had been a year that he got to know his partner better than he knew himself, and with those thoughts, he looked over to the passenger seat, this car bringing the memories of him singing with his fiancé, the countless dates and road trips that they had been on together. He felt the flames grow closer and he only grew colder, his chest filling with regret as the flowers he was bringing home to his fiancé laid on the ground, the upside-down position he was in making the cherry blossom flowers the sole thing he could focus on. 

 He shut his eyes once more and brought himself back to the first time he had met his fiancé. How he could remember it like it was yesterday, he could remember the sweater his fiancé was wearing, he could remember the colour of his hair at the time, what time they had met, where, and how they met. 

 Renjun was sitting in the small café beside their campus, the smaller boy on break from his current shift. This was his final year and he had made his way to go to one of the most popular and prestigious schools in the country. His brown apron bunched on his thighs as he brings one leg over the other. The smaller boy had his coffee and book, finally able to sit and finish this last chapter so he can start his final essay for one of his creative writing classes. 

 The bell at the entrance of the café made a little ding and a group of rowdy boys walked in, the volume of the building increasing exponentially. ‘Great…’ Renjun mumbles to himself, the only reason he took his break was the peace and quiet so he could read. 

 ‘Might as well go back to work…I can’t leave Jisung alone to deal with these orders.’

 He sighs and gets up, his feet moving hastily so he can get back behind the cash and help the group of loud boys. “Hi! Welcome to the Teaspoon! What can I get you today?” He fakes a smile and a customer service voice, now taking the orders of the three boys before one of them. The one going last smiles and it lights up, a small hum coming from him as he goes over the menu situated on the wall above the smaller baristas head, a plethora of machines behind him. 

 “Surprise me, yeah?”

The smaller barista is taken aback and smiles back to him, nodding.

“Alright, any allergies?”

The other shakes his head.

“Perfect, we’ll get your order made right away.” 

 The other male smiles down at the barista and pays the difference, now going over to the group.

 “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, it’ll be done in about five minutes.”

 The smaller barista quickly gets to work, now working on all the beverages for the group. For the last drink, he had decided on an iced passion fruit tea lemonade. Making the decision to give him a nickname, before finishing the drink, he goes and writes something fitting, something easy to remember. The barista passed all the drinks out when they’re all finished, his hand covering the nickname. He lets it go and goes to help another customer who’s lined up and takes her order.

The boy with the tea smiles at him before leaving the café and noticing the nickname. He grins, one of the boys in the group now noticing and asking what he’s smiling at.

“The sun.”

 He smiles, another tear dripping off his face.

 ‘The sun.’

A nickname that was given to him for his smile and bright personality that could light up whatever room he went in. 

 Coming back the next day, the boy with the smile like the sun came looking for the barista he was so intrigued by. Though, unbeknownst to him, the barista was off for the next few days due to the copious amount of schoolwork he had to do. This didn’t stop the sunshine boy from coming in daily, waiting for him, ordering the same thing. He would come in and use the excuse of wanting that barista to make his coffee for him, claiming that he made it better than anyone else.

Four days later, the boy had come back and was greeted by his favourite barista.

 “Welcome to the Teaspoon! What can I get for you today?” The barista says with a smile, his entire demeanour changing when he sees the sunshine boy from a few days ago. “How was your drink a few days ago? It was you who asked me to surprise you, right?”

 The sunshine boy smiles, Donghyuck laughing slightly. “That was me, I couldn’t decide but what you made was delicious. Do you wanna surprise me again? It was probably one of the best drinks I’ve had in a while.”

 The compliment makes the barista grin, and he tries not to show the pride that’s blooming in his chest. “I’d like that, did you want a coffee or a tea, today?”

 “Your choice.”

“Bold of you to trust me.”

“You haven’t failed me yet.”

“I don’t plan on failing you.”

 If only they knew at the time that he said that, that the sentence he had spoken would stay with the sunshine boy for the rest of his life. And it was true. Renjun wasn’t one to fail others, especially those he cares about.

Looking back to the first responders, Donghyuck had felt an array of emotions; anger, sadness, regret, longing, remorse, and what hurt the most was the acceptance that he had come to when he knew he wouldn’t be able to be saved. He had noticed the quiet sound of air flowing out of a hose, and with that sound, everything drowned out. He was pulled back into the memories of him and his fiancé, and the time that the two of them had spent together. His eyes shut and the air from the hose got louder, a single tear slipping down his face as he trembled, his final words dripping from between his lips.

 “Huang Renjun, I will always love you,” He had whispered, the puddle of gasoline igniting beside him.

 With that, time was up.

 The cars erupted in a magnificent roar, the only people to survive being the first responders who weren’t anywhere close to the vehicles which were now charred. 

 Renjun had been cooking, and hours had passed, the worry that was building in his mind, he had sat at the dinner table. He sat, looking at the empty seat in front of him and had finished the bottle of wine that was sitting on the table. With a sigh, he had gotten up and brought his plate to the sink, the food untouched as he put everything he had made into containers for leftovers. While cleaning, a knock on the door had pulled him out of his trance and his legs brought him to the door; there stood two police officers whose faces were stoic but showed some semblance of regret. 

 “Mr. Huang Renjun, may we come in?” 

 His voice was as stoic as his face was, and Renjun had let the two officers in, a pit in his stomach growing into something that felt like it was eating him alive. The two officers had him seated back in the kitchen and he had been staring into nothing, the words that the officers had just spoken breaking him from the inside out. He looked over to where his fiancé would sit, the silence in the room deafening. Everything eventually started spinning and his ears started ringing. The room went cold, the previously warm and loving home he and his fiancé had built for each other now crumbling and breaking down into the frigid and abandoned building. Looking towards the police officers, his face went blank, and tears streamed down his face. The police officers had taken this time to leave a few brochures and escort themselves out. 

 This house had so many reminders of the love of his life:

 The candle on the table, the shirt Renjun was wearing, the ring on his finger, the shampoo that they had both used just that morning, even the day. Their anniversary. Renjun needed some time to think, think about what’s happening, what’s coming next, what he would do. The male sat in silence; the door unlocked after the police officers showed themselves to the door. What was the smaller male to do now? 

 The news hit him with a wave of exhaustion, him now being in the same spot as he was. Was he to love again? No, surely not. He was promised to his twin flame, his person, his everything. He got up and wandered around the house aimlessly, his hands fumbling with each other as the ring he had on his finger twists. “Donghyuck… baby it’s time for dinner, it’s time to eat, and I made your favourite…” he calls out, his voice cracking and his heart breaking when he looks to the door. “Donghyuck, welcome home, my love… happy anniversary, my sun.” 

 This is the sentence that makes him break, finally dropping to his knees, his sobs loud and coarse. After a little while, his sobs exhaust him and he lays where he dropped down, his body aching as he tries to shift in his spot. Renjun can’t be bothered to move, his entire reason for existence now gone. He manages to shift onto his back, eventually just falling asleep in this spot. 

The next morning he gets up and manages to stand, being faced with photos all around his home of him and his fiance. His body seemed to move by itself, bringing him to their shared bedroom, the room untouched. He looks around, feeling his heart shatter all over again.

“Life seems to be much colder now that the sun is gone…”

[whump-me-all-night-long]

The Jewelry Box: Amber’s Beginning pt. 3

Okay, so it is going to be at least four parts because Sapphire doesn’t know how to shut up. I’m also working on several other pieces, but I’m trying to get these first parts out before posting any of those!

Taglist: @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @bluewhalewaffles @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: intimate whumper, creepy whumper, collared, multiple whumpees, lady whump/whumpees, referenced death, referenced brainwashing, long-term captivity, dehumanization, slight victim blaming, panic attack, referenced branding, cursing because Amber and Sapphire, let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist

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Jess banged lightly on the glass wall-door thing. “Hey!” they called. “You asshole! Come back!”

They groaned softly, resting their head against the glass as the world spun around them. They did their best to quell the panic threatening to overwhelm them. They didn’t know when the Jeweler would be back or who any of these other people were.

“Didn’t take the pill?” A low, kind voice asked.

Jess glanced up in surprise. “What?” they said, not registering the question or who spoke. 

The large dark kind man in one of the cells diagonal from them smiled. “When he offered you the pill earlier, you didn’t take it, did you?” he repeated, sympathetic.

Jess made a noise of disgust. “Hell no,” they snapped. “Who knows what that was. I’m not taking a shady ass pill from a guy who, who fucking abducted me!”

In the cell next to theirs, the angry blue one from earlier laughed. “So we finally got someone with a brain, huh?” he said, voice dripping sarcasm. “Well, not smart enough to avoid getting kidnapped.”

Jess craned their head and met the guy’s steely gaze. “Says you,” they bit back. “How long have you been here?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Seven years. How long do you think you’re going to last? I doubt you’ll even get to see your one year anniversary.” He sneered. “A pretty thing like you will get sold in no time. That’s if the Jeweler doesn’t kill you first.”

“Sapphire,” the kind one warned.

Jess had met Sapphire’s type before and expected him to ignore the other one, but to their surprise, he backed off. “Fine,” he muttered, taking a couple steps back, out of Jess’ sight. 

The purple haired woman in the cell across from Jess’ sighed dramatically. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re still crying over your little friend,” she mocked in a surprisingly high voice. 

Jess jumped as Sapphire surged forward and banged on the glass so hard it rattled. “Shut the fuck up!” he snarled. “I will fucking kill you if you even mention him again!” Jess felt a cold sliver of fear curl up in their stomach at the pure murder in Sapphire’s tone.

The woman was about to snap back when the red head a couple cells down from Jess pleaded in a sweet, low voice, “Guys, come on. Can we please not do this again?”

The green-eyed and -haired one smiled appreciatively at her. “Ruby’s right. It’s hard enough without you two at each other’s throats. Plus we have someone new.” He looked back at Jess. “What’s your name?”

Jess scowled. “Like I told crazy before, it’s-”

“No,” Sapphire quickly cut them off. “Not your real name. What’s the name the Jeweler gave you?”

Jess glared at him. “I don’t- uh, Amber, I think. But my name is-”

“-irrelevant,” Sapphire interjected once again. “That name isn’t going to help you here. You have to learn to play the game, you understand? Forget your old name, bury your memories so far down the Jeweler can’t find them. Those just, they just make it harder.”

Jess huffed out a breath. “Well, I don’t exactly plan on staying here for very long.”

Sapphire laughed coldly. “None of us do.” He pointed at each of the other Jewels. “Ruby and Amethyst have been here for four years, Emerald’s been here for eight, and I’ve been here for seven. You think any of us just woke up one day and decided ‘hey, let’s get abducted by some rando and completely lose our old life?’ No, we didn’t.”

Jess glanced at the one he hadn’t mentioned, the pale one who had smiled earlier. “What about them?” they asked with a point of their chin. 

Sapphire didn’t blink. “Diamond’s been here longer than any of us, nearly eleven years. But they’re different.” Sapphire’s scowl caused Jess to swallow hard. “They like it.” Enough contempt filled their voice that Jess didn’t pry further.

They glanced around at the others. “And none of you have, what? Ever tried to escape? Come on, you can’t just be okay with this.”

“Of course we aren’t,” the dark one, Emerald, said. “But we’ve all been here long enough to know that it’s better to fight silently than constantly try to go head to head with the Jeweler.” He tilted his head, amending, “Well, except for Sapphire, but the Jeweler likes for him to fight back.”

Jess shivered, feeling panic creeping in. “No, this is- this is crazy. This cannot possibly be happening right now. You all- you’re insane. You’ve been brainwashed into- into believing this shitfest.”

Sapphire snorted. “Of course we have. You don’t go years in captivity without a little brainwashing.” He smirked, eyeing Jess. “Don’t worry, it’ll happen to you, soon enough. Then this gets a hell of a lot easier.”

“Sapphire,” Emerald said, a warning in his voice.

Sapphire glanced at him. “What? It’s not like they won’t know soon. The Jeweler will be back for them any minute.”

Jess tried to remember how to breathe. “Wait, what’s about to happen? What the hell is going on?”

Sapphire turned his gaze back to Jess. “Just this,” he said, ignoring Emerald’s sigh and  flashing the inside of his wrist towards Jess. 

Jess leaned forwards, horror filling them. “Oh my god,” they breathed. “What is that?”

The skin on the  inside of Sapphire’s wrist was red and scarred. It was in the shape of a gemstone, with the letters JB inside of it. It looked years old and yet still very painful. Jess rubbed the inside of their wrist and, as they glanced around at the others, they saw similar - no, identical - wounds marking them all.

“They’re brands,” the purple one, Amethyst said, voice flat. “It’s how the Jeweler marks us as his property. As property of the Jewelry Box.”

“God,” Jess mumbled, backing up. They stumbled into the edge of the bed and nearly fell over it. “This- this can’t be happening. Oh god what did I have last night? This, this has got to be the craziest dream, or, or trip that I’ve ever had.” Their breaths sped up and they clutched their stomach, feeling nauseous. 

Sapphire snorted from beyond their sight. “Good luck, kid.”

“Sapphire,” Emerald said reproachfully. “You shouldn’t have told them. I know you’re still grieving, trust me, we all are, but you know it doesn’t help for them to know ahead of time.”

“You know nothing about how I’m feeling!” Sapphire snapped back, voice distorted, as if it was coming from a long ways away.

Jess moved away from the glass until their back hit the cold wall. Then, they slowly slid down, hands clutching their head. “This can’t be happening,” they whispered, squeezing their eyes shut. “This-this isn’t real.” 

It was as if there was some heavy weight on their chest, making it impossible for them to fill their lungs. Their fingers pulled at their hair until tears of pain welled up in their eyes. They bit down on their lip, trying to stay silent as their face quickly became wet. They gasped for air, fingers tightening on their scalp as they rocked slightly. 

They knew they were going to get in trouble one day, Jules had always told them that. Everyone had always told them that. But they hadn’t expected it to get this fucked up. They hadn’t expected to end up in the clutches of a psychotic murderer. This was the sort of stuff people made horror movies about, not stuff that happened in real life.

Jess didn’t know how long they stayed like that, taking one short, shallow breath after another, feeling their head spinning as they tried to make themself as small as possible, but they were suddenly aware of the silence that had fallen over the room. Where Sapphire, Emerald, and Amethyst had been arguing, now there was only the faint blowing of the air conditioning.

“Amber,” a too-gentle, too-familiar voice called softly, causing them to look up.

They saw the Jeweler standing in front of their cell, key in hand. He smiled when their eyes met. 

“It’s time for the rest of your initiation, dear,” he said, unlocking the glass door and sliding it open. Jess rose shakily to their feet, roughly scrubbing at their cheeks and scowling, all too conscious of the others staring at them. They shuffled their feet, not going any closer to the Jeweler. 

“No,” they said in a low, hoarse voice. 

The Jeweler’s smile widened. “What was that?”

“No,” Jess repeated, voice stronger. “I- I’m not going with you.”

The Jeweler tilted his head slightly. “And why is that?” 

Jess shifted on their feet. “I- I know what you’re going to do to me. And I don’t want to, to be branded like some sort of animal!” They glared at the Jeweler, who just sighed and turned his gaze towards Sapphire.

“Really?” he asked. “You know telling them beforehand always makes it worse.”

Sapphire replied in a deadpan voice, “Oops.”

The Jeweler turned his attention back to Jess, smiling again. “Now, my dear, you’re going to be coming out of that cell sooner or later. I’d much rather make this as pleasant as possible for the both of us, but I’m not afraid to make this uncomfortable for you.”

Jess just scowled. “Make me,” they bit back.

The Jeweler shrugged, fiddling with something in his hand. Then, all of a sudden, there was lightning bolting down Jess’ spine, fracturing along every nerve. It felt as if they were on fire, every inch lighting up with pain.

Then it was all over, and they were panting, palms stinging slightly from where they had fallen to their hands and knees on the ground, and the Jeweler was standing over them, that smile still on his face.

“You bastard,” Jess growled, still breathless, unable to fight back as the Jeweler attached a pair of cuffs to Jess’ wrists and ankles. “Is- is this some sort of shock collar?” Their voice was incredulous as they couldn’t believe it.

The Jeweler just patted their head, pulling them to their feet and steering them out of the cell. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if you had just cooperated in the first place,” he said cheerfully.

Jess shrunk down, head pounding and legs shaking underneath their weight, as they glanced at the others, but nobody seemed particularly surprised or inclined to step in. Emerald gave them an encouraging smile, but Sapphire shrugged like ‘I told you so.’

“Now, then,” the Jeweler said, pushing them onward. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Who Killed Markiplier? - Ten Hours

Three years ago, I wrote four drabbles for each episode of Who Killed Markiplier’s anniversary on one of my roleplay blogs. Each one followed William when he wasn’t on screen. I thought it would be fitting to rewrite the fourth drabble for the anniversary of the final episode, where William was left alone with the bodies for an entire night.

With this in mind, this a warning for discussions of death, injuries and a suggestion of harm with a weapon.

Word Count: 1,288

-

William might be considered a madman by many, but he was no fool.

He knew the District Attorney was dead the moment William’s hand failed to catch them and pull them back up. Their body plummeted to the ground, body frozen in the act of trying to reach out to their murderer and their salvation. Even their scream was trapped, little more than a breathless gasp. The sickening crack of bone against the tiles far below made something twist in his stomach, yet he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was frozen to the spot with one hand reached out like he was a puppet abandoned in the middle of a performance.

At last, his strength abandoned him as William dropped to his knees. Tears welled up as the reality of the moment hit and grief sunk in. An innocent person lay dead far below him, their body crumpled and damaged. Even from far above, he could see the unnatural position of their neck. Accident or not, it was still murder.

That brought the number of deaths to three.

-

Three deaths in twenty-four hours: two happening within five minutes of each other, and the first body vanished without a trace. What would anyone think if they saw this disaster? Then again… Everyone else left. No one would realise he did it. If he threw his gun in the pool and hurried now, he would be able to reach the ports with a changed name by the end of the next day. He could disappear without a trace. What did he have left here now that he cared about was gone and he was alone? He could hide and -

“Colonel.”

A voice, or a draft? An unimportant question as William shot his head around to see the locked door swing open. It dragged him back to the present moment as he rose to his feet. Gingerly approaching, he stopped by the body of the Detective in case this was a trap for a counter-attack. He even reached down to make sure the body was cold before continuing. The room that had been sealed shut by the groundskeeper was empty. No bodies to be found. In fact, William realised it was as though the room had been long abandoned. The chairs and table had been overturned and covered in a heavy layer of dust. The only clean item was Damien’s cane. Despite what looked like the scene of a fight, the cane didn’t even have a smudge on it. It was as perfect as always. Without thinking, William lifted the cane into his hands, in time for a thought to pop into his head -

If Damien left, why did he forget the cane?

Wherever the thought came from served as hope that William desperately clung to. If Damien had left before whatever happened to Celine, and he realised he forgot his cane, he’d surely return for it. It was a trademark - if the cane was left in a room, Damien was never too far away. Therefore, this was forgotten in a hurry. That had to be what happened.

“Damien… What would you do if you were here?” A hand idly rubbed the head of the cane, just like the mayor always did when trying to think through a problem. Damien had brought up getting other authorities involved. When William went to lie down, maybe Damien took matters into his own hands and sought the police. If so, he would return. What good would it do if they arrived to the manor utterly devoid of life? Would Damien be falsely accused of murders?

He blinked. In his daze, he had walked back to the balcony where the District Attorney had fallen to their demise. One deep breath in, one slow exhale. He knew what Damien would do.

-

The journey downstairs was longer than usual, but William knelt beside the Attorney. Their pulse was missing, their hand was cold as ice. Likely, they had died on impact. He could guess that the blow to the neck would have caused irreparable damage to the spinal cord, without even considering any possible breakages in the spine. Then, even if they had survived, slamming their head against the stone tiles would have sealed the deal. Their body was already injured with the bullet in their abdomen. His jacket was unbuttoned and draped over them in respect. Then, after a moment of reflection, he lowered his hand to close their eyes. All he could do now was hope they were at peace.

The Colonel made his way to the bench beside the front door. Sitting there allowed him to see both corpses. If either tried to rise as homo necrosis, he would be ready. Damien wouldn’t approve of anyone going missing - 

“Oh God…” Damien would never forgive him for killing the Attorney. They were Damien’s university friend, the one he always spoke so fondly about, the one that was the grounding force when lectures and exams took their toll and none of the gang could be there to offer support. William was supposed to befriend them and pull them into many pranks and schemes. He was supposed to be the nuisance who would take up space in the office of the District Attorney, rest his feet on the fancy wooden desk and distract them with stories of overseas adventures, or how Damien was such a scaredy-cat when they were children. They might even try to get the Mayor out of work early to live a little and have fun.

Not this.

William could face Damien’s anger. He would face the police and tell them everything that happened. He didn’t mean to do any of this. Mark’s death was an accident, but that didn’t excuse his inability to confess when he had the chance. If he had… The Detective and the Attorney would still be alive. But for now, the night vigil began.

-

Ten hours.

Ten hours watching two corpses with nothing but a faint ticking to break the illusion of being trapped in an eternal moment. Ten hours on alert in case zombified corpses rose to their feet. Ten hours with only death for company. It really makes you think.

Death brings somber reflection with it. How many lives had ended because of him? How much blood had been spilled to justify a war? How many friendships had ended because of him? He had no one but himself to blame. Maybe he was wrong to love Celine, to argue with Mark, to distance himself from Damien. But, as Death reminded him, it was too late to change anything.

-

Morning came slowly after a painfully long night. William’s night watch had resulted in his mind replaying the events of the weekend on a constant loop. The guilt grew with every hour until it suffocated him. Only that he had the cane to keep him grounded, his hands would have taken the alternative choice hiding in his boot… And it was better not to think about what might have happened then.

He knew Damien would hate him. And if Celine had been with him? And Celine? Knowing her temper, she would probably make sure the Colonel suffered for all of this. But it wouldn’t be long now. Maybe no one was at the station when Damien arrived last night. They would be on their way soon. He just needed to hold out a little longer. Then he could help bring an end to his awful chapter and rot in jail. It would make up for him not confessing when Damien approached him in the theatre. It would make up for his cowardice in hiding when the séance started instead of standing guard. It would stop -

The body moved.

[ruzek-halstead]

keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)

julie doesn't expect one of the worst days of her life to lead to the best.

an alternate universe where julie is a talented tattoo artist, battling her demons and luke occasionally helps out at a flower shop because recording a demo isn't cheap. their meeting isn't the most glamorous, but it's one for the books.

masterlist || ao3 

It’s only when she turns her head to the side and her curls follow, that he notices the black outline of a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. It’s unbelievably simple and void of any colour, but Luke finds it suits her. Her arm reaches out as she playfully hits the shoulder of someone she’s with and Luke catches more of the ink on her skin. He spots the dahlia first, and her reaction at the flower shop when he thought they didn’t have any makes a lot more sense; it must have a deep meaning to her.

The urge he feels to know everything and anything about her overwhelms him.

The moment Julie's alarm clock starts ringing that rainy Wednesday morning, she knows it can only go further downhill from there.

She has been dreading this day for the entire month, and now that it's finally here, she isn't sure how to feel. She knows how she feels; her insides are turning themselves inside out and the pinch at the front of her forehead signals the start of a headache that will most likely be there for the remainder of the day.

It's only seven-thirty in the morning and her phone is already flooding with messages. They're mostly from her dad, reminding her what today is. It isn't as if she needs a reminder; this day will stick with her for as long as she walks this earth. Other messages are from her Tía Victoria, a bit more aggressive, trying to ensure Julie's presence later tonight.

Julie understands it's all in good faith; she knows that. It doesn't help lessen the pain though.

She's has never found it anything less than difficult to visit her mother's grave. The image of Rose being lowered in her coffin will forever stay burned in Julie's mind, and that was all she could picture whenever she went back. However, the standing tradition was that they all would visit her mother's grave on the anniversary of her death.

Julie visited on the first anniversary. She was only able to stay the entirety of four minutes before she ran to the nearest trashcan to empty out her insides.

She stopped by the second year but couldn't find the strength to leave the car.

By the third year, the mere thought of visiting the cemetery was enough to send Julie into a whirlwind of panic attacks; they were so debilitating that she couldn't even leave her apartment.

At the fourth anniversary, Julie simply opted to not go. Her father was disappointed, her Tía was angry (even though she tried to hide it) and her brother said nothing at all.

Today marks the fifth anniversary of Rose's death, and once again, she's expected to show up. Even if the pain is just as fresh as the day it happened, the expectation is that she'll show up anyway with flowers and say something nice and meaningful.

Julie doesn't have anything nice or meaningful to say because she's still so angry that something like this even happened in the first place. She doesn't see why she has to hide her anger, why she has to hide it for the sake of her family. It should be okay that she's still grieving; it isn't something you just get over.

Julie clears the messages from her phone without responding. She has work to get to, and she can't be anymore distracted than she already is. She jumps in for a quick shower, not bothering to style her hair since it was a dreary, rainy day anyway. She chooses a pair of black ripped jeans, a matching black cropped band t-shirt and her red and black plaid shirt to complete the outfit. Grabbing an apple for the road, she picks up her army green jacket, an umbrella and quickly weaves through the crowds of people on the street until she reaches her destination.

The 'OPEN' sign is still turned off, but she spots lights flickering in the back. Balancing her umbrella and the apple she shoved in her mouth due to lack of hands, she uses her key to let herself in.

Willie is already in the back, setting up his station for a full day of appointments. Somehow people were always willing to get pricked with a needle, no matter how much it hurt.

Their other co-workers, Flynn and Carrie haven't arrived yet.

Julie is grateful for that. After working with these people for so many years, they know a lot about her and most of them were even there when her mother's health severely started deteriorating out of nowhere.

They know exactly what today is.

She doesn't want to be coddled in the way she knows they'll want to.

Luckily, she doesn't have to worry about that with Willie. He somehow just understands exactly what everyone needs, no words necessary.

"Morning Jules," he murmurs, motioning behind him to the break room. "I set the coffee a bit ago. Can you check on that?"

Julie, ever grateful for the distraction, drops her things at her station and rushes into the break room. Coffee is a must every morning, and it's best to always have a fresh pot. You never know when you'll need a fix. After so many years of working together, they've all memorized each other's coffee orders and so, Julie takes it upon herself to prepare everyone's coffee.

It's mostly for a distraction. But every time she thinks of things as distractions, it only reminds her of what she's trying to distract herself from. It's a lose-lose situation.

"Good morning Julie!"

Julie turns to glance over her shoulder at where Carrie is walking in, hooking her jacket on the coat rack and shaking out the raindrops from her loose waves. She immediately dives for her coffee, taking a deep gulp with a sigh of pleasure.

Her blue eyes meet Julie's surprised brown ones. Carrie merely sends her a small smile and doesn't say anything else. Julie sends one back.

"Is Nick coming in today?" Julie asks, turning back to the four coffees.

Nick is their apprentice, currently working with Carrie. He doesn't come in everyday and Julie doesn't want to waste a perfectly good coffee if he isn't coming in.

"No, not today. He gets days off. Anyone know what those are?"

Julie lets out a snort. She spots the pleased smile on Carrie's lips from the corner of her eye. She understands her co-workers are trying to make this day as pain-free as possible and she really appreciates it.

"Jules, your phone's going off again!" Willie yells from the other room. Julie frowns, knowing exactly who it is and what it's for. She glances at her watch, noting it's time to open. She grabs her coffee along with Willie's and drops it off along the way.

Julie once again presses decline, silences it, and shoves it into one of her drawers. She ignores the somewhat knowing look from Willie; she knows he won't say anything.

She can feel it in the aggressive manner of her movements; she's just so frustrated. She's frustrated with her emotions and what she's feeling. A part of her thinks she should be over it by now, so she wouldn't have to suffer through this every year. But she knows that's ridiculous; this kind of pain doesn't just disappear overnight. She's also frustrated with her family. They don't seem to care about what she's feeling and instead solely on what they want her to do.

But then, she's also frustrated with herself.

Why is it so difficult for her to visit her mother? Maybe it would be therapeutic and bring Julie some closure. She knows this, but her body rejects the idea at every attempt.

It's frustrating all around and Julie can feel herself growing sour as the day goes on.

Julie never pictured herself going into tattooing. To be perfectly honest, blood used to freak the hell out of her and in large quantities, it still does. But she always had an interest in drawing. It started with little doodles on the corners of her notebooks, then when she was gifted her first proper drawing pad, she filled it up within days. It was the one thing that brought her joy, so she decided to make something out of it.

Tattooing was still never on her radar. It wasn't until Julie met up with some of her cousins at a family get together that the idea was proposed. After that, Julie furthered her education on drawing and applied for an apprenticeship with an experienced tattoo artist. She wanted to see if it was the right profession for her, and she was amazed by how much she loved it.

Her mentor thought she was adorable at first. She was so tiny, and so bare of any tattoos, but when she started showcasing her talent, both knew this was the right place for Julie. She stayed there for a few months and eventually started venturing elsewhere. That's when she discovered Willie and his tattoo parlour Powerhouse.

He's absolutely the chillest boss Julie has ever encountered. He cares that you do your job and you do it properly. She also met some pretty amazing coworkers along the way, so it was quite possibly one of the best decisions she ever made.

Sitting in the break room during a gap in appointments, Julie idly stares at the ink littering her forearms. She never saw the appeal to ink her skin before her mom passed away. After that, she was desperate to keep her memory alive, and as close to her as possible.

The black outline of a dahlia on her wrist reminds Julie of her mother's favourite flower; she always made sure to have them in the house, even if they were out of season. There was a flower shop nearby that always managed to get them in, and coincidentally, it ended up being the shop across the street from where she worked now. Julie is familiar with the elderly lady who owned the shop, Beverly; she's the absolute sweetest, and continued to get dahlias even after Rose had passed away.

Julie likes to keep some in her apartment as well, so she continues stopping by.

She kept adding designs to her skin as time went on.

Her style is mostly black ink, thin lines. She understands most people get tattoos without a specific meaning behind it, as getting a tattoo is already meaningful enough. But Julie has always been dead set on having all her tattoos mean something to her.

She has her mother's signature on the underside of her other wrist. This one, Carlos and she got together. It's the only time Carlos ever let her come close to him with a needle, even though she has begged him multiple times.

Julie also has a black butterfly on the back of her shoulder. She loves butterflies and everything they represent; rebirth, change, hope, transformation, everything she wishes she could do.

She has a few more littering the skin on her arms, all personal designs, and all done by her ridiculously talented co-workers; Julie wouldn't trust anyone else.

Julie's day has dragged on, and she's still dodging calls from her family. It hurt, deep down in her chest that she's ignoring them, but it hurt so much more thinking about her mom and where she is.

When her phone rings again as she's cleaning up her station after the last client of the evening, Julie moves to decline the call. She stops short when she notices the screensaver is a dorky photo she took of Carlos many years ago; it's her brother calling, and he hasn't bothered to do so in quite a while.

Julie, with hesitation, decides to pick up the phone anyway. She hasn't talked to her brother in months, and she can't decline his call; it would hurt too much.

"Julie," he greets, seemingly surprised she even picked up; he knows what she's like on his particular day. It's like a breath of fresh air hearing his voice, and it makes Julie feel even worse for ignoring her father and Tía's calls earlier.

"Hey Carlos," Julie replies softly. "How are you?

It's a dumb question, but it was instinct more than anything else.

"I'm okay, considering," Carlos responds honestly, and Julie's heart nearly bursts from how much it hurts. To know her little brother is hurting and she has been avoiding him like the plague, it makes her feel like a terrible sister. And that wouldn't be far from the truth, considering how MIA she has been with her entire family. "Are you coming tonight?"

Julie inhales sharply. It's easier to just decline calls to let them know she isn't coming rather than actually having to tell them. "I'm sorry Carlos, I don't think I can make it tonight."

There's an ominous silence from the other end. They both know Julie's full of shit.

"Okay," he replies solemnly. "I just —" When Julie hears what she thinks is a quiet sob, her eyes immediately well up with tears. For a second, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room and she can't figure out how to breathe. "I would really like it if you came. I need you."

Carlos is so obviously in pain and Julie doesn't have it in her to deny it anymore. She's in pain too, but it isn't just about her.

"I'll be there," Julie tells him, voice breaking on the last word. "I'm just finishing work, but I'll meet you all there."

"Thanks Jules," he thanks her, but honestly, there's no need. "I love you."

Julie hastily wipes at the tears that have escaped. "I love you too. See you soon."

Julie immediately ends the phone call and ducks her head into her arms to silence the sobs wracking her body.

God, it hurt so much.

Everything hurt.

Julie only allows herself to fall apart for a single minute. After that, she composes herself and wipes away her tears. She had promised Beverly she would stop by today, as she always sent Julie some dahlias on the anniversary of her mother's death. She figures she may as well bring them to her mother's grave; her father would appreciate it.

Julie hastily grabs her jacket from the back and storms to the front door. Her co-workers are still in, so she mumbles a quick goodbye but doesn't stay long enough to receive any questions. In her rush, she forgets to grab her umbrella and of course, it's still raining out.

She growls in frustration under her breath. She isn't usually an angry person, but today she's completely out of it.

The flower shop is only across the street, so she quickly makes a run for it and ducks into the shop.

Julie is expecting to see Beverly behind the counter, so she's unpleasantly surprised to see a floppy-haired, sleeveless man sitting behind it instead. She was truly hoping to see Beverly; she always made Julie feel better, especially on days like this.

So, she can't exactly explain the overwhelming feeling of rage that overtakes her.

Luke is sitting behind the counter on a stool, pencil between his lips, brows furrowed together as he reviews his latest lyrics. His head is bopping up and down as he murmurs the words from the notebook splayed on his lap.

He's been in a bit of a rut lately and everything he seems to write makes him want to bang his head against the wall.

The flower shop is quiet and slow, and it's the perfect place for Luke to write out his latest song ideas. They are still three songs short for the demo album they're currently recording and Luke is on a bit of a time crunch. It's a miracle they found a studio willing to let them record their demo album at all, but that's the price of knowing people (or Reggie knowing people; he meets a lot of random people).

Unfortunately, recording a demo doesn't pay much, so Luke helps out in the flower shop occasionally. Beverly is a family friend of his mom's and she's more than happy to have Luke help out so she can spend some more time with her grandkids.

When he hears the bell of the door go off, signalling there's a new customer, he glances up, pencil dropping into his lap. Her back is to him so he can only spot her unruly curls and army green jacket littered with raindrops.

He watches her silently; it isn't like he's trying to be creepy or anything, but usually he can tell by their expressions if they need his help or not. When she turns in his direction to glance at the row of flowers, he offers a friendly smile.

Luke is momentarily distracted by her effortless beauty, but his brows furrow at the obvious distress written on her features. Her eyes are slightly rimmed red, and he doesn't want to make any assumptions, but coupled with her rosy nose, it seems as if she has been crying. There's a pinch in her brow, and Luke can't tell if she's angry or just severely upset.

Neither are his specialty, and truth be told, he figures he'll only make things worse if he tries to talk to her. But she looks so sad, and it is technically his job. How horribly could he mess this up?

With hesitation, he slips out from behind the counter and approaches her cautiously, bouncing on his heels.

"Hey!" Luke greets, his right hand automatically reaching towards the back of his head to scratch his scalp. He has been told it's his nervous tick, though he can't really help it at this point. His voice sounds so loud in the quiet shop; only the sounds of buzzing from the coolers can be heard. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Julie is still gazing over the flowers, growing irritated that there are no dahlias in sight. She spares a single look at his curious expression. His green eyes are searching her face, and she can only imagine how terrible she looks right now. His gaze is oddly intense and Julie breaks away like she's been burned.

Shaking her head to break out of her reverie, she looks back at the flowers. "I'm looking for dahlias."

"Oh!" Luke frowns, even more so when Julie doesn't make further eye contact. "Sorry, we don't have any in stock right now. Not the season."

Luke has dealt with crabby customers before, normally upset because they don't have what they're looking for. He's used to that, and he has a pretty upbeat demeanour that helps him whenever he has to talk down customers. And though Julie looks upset, he doesn't expect her to snap the way she does.

She turns to face him with such ferocity that the ends of her jacket flap against his thigh. There’s a wild gleam in her eye as it twitches. “What?” Though the single word is packed with animosity and venom, Luke spots the hint of desperation beneath. “That’s not possible. This place always has dahlias! They have to be here somewhere!" Her voice lowers into a soft whine when she says, "I need them."

Julie’s eyes flood with tears the more she speaks, and though she realizes he probably has no idea that Beverly always makes sure there are dahlias for her, she can’t help but let her frustrations out somewhere. Plus, she doesn't know him, so it's fine, right?

At the prospect of Julie bursting into tears right there and then in front of him, Luke jumps right into panic mode.

If Beverly’s shop receives a terrible review because of him, she will absolutely have his head.

(Beverly is a sweet lady but the sass.)

“Uh — hold on, just give me a second,” Luke stutters, reaching his hand out as if to comfort her. Julie’s eyes drop down to his hand and he snaps it back and tangles it into the back of his head with a sheepish smile. He’s always been very touch-oriented; it’s a problem sometimes, especially with people he doesn’t know very well. He just can't help it; if he sees someone in pain and suffering, he'll want jump in and help. However, it seems like the only way to help this particular distraught customer is to find some dahlias. “Hey, okay — listen, why don’t I check in the back? I could definitely be wrong.”

Julie’s eyes meet his and he becomes increasingly aware that she’s about ready to lose her bearings and cry right there in front of him. It makes his heart turn in his chest, and he doesn’t even know her that well. He takes a step back to head to the cooler but his hesitation is at an all-time high; Julie looks so ready to explode and it rubs him the wrong way to leave her on her own.

But he figures it’ll be for the best if he can find the dahlias, so he awkwardly steps back to enter the cooler. The cooler is relatively empty, only vases with long-stemmed roses, some ready-to-go arrangements and a few orders waiting to be picked up. He walks through the cooler quickly, checking any crevice for hidden dahlias. It’s only when he spots a bouquet of dahlias with baby’s breath, neatly wrapped in cellophane that he stops in his tracks. There’s a note attached and Luke recognizes Beverly’s loopy hand-writing.

A pretty, curly-haired brunette will be by to pick these up later. No charge. Please be nice, Luke.

Luke nearly snorts at the addition of the note, but quickly realizes it was probably added because of the brunette’s emotional state that he just witnessed. He would otherwise argue he’s a very kind person.

(He isn’t usually wrong about what they have in stock either, but it seems today is a day for firsts.)

Luke grabs the bouquet and gently brings it back out. Luckily, the brunette hasn’t burst into tears; in fact, she seems more composed than earlier (he can’t help but think that maybe it was because his bothersome presence was gone).

“Ah — I’m sorry about that,” Luke apologizes, holding out the bouquet. He realizes the note Beverly left is still stuck onto the cellophane when he catches Julie’s eyes very obviously reading it. He awkwardly snatches the note back and shoves it into his pocket, but when he notices the right side of her lip quirk into a small smirk, he can’t help but feel a swell of pride. “Turns out Bev had this ready for you in the back.”

Julie accepts the bouquet, glancing up to send him a small, thankful smile. She recognizes she was quite snappy with him, and truthfully, he handled it considerably well as opposed to how he could have. But she also knows she isn’t mad at him and he didn’t deserve to be her punching bag today. Whoever he is.

Julie doesn’t recognize him, but he seems to know Beverly just as well as she does. He has a decently cute smile and Julie seems to be drawn to his mannerisms; the way he constantly scratches the back of his scalp or bites his lip when he’s awaiting replies.

She only notices that she’s been staring at him for the last few seconds when he clears his throat and his hand dives towards the back of his neck. She would be embarrassed if this wasn’t already one of the worst days of her life; it truly can’t get any worse.

Instead, she pulls out her wallet with her free hand, but Luke shakes his head. She saw the note that said no charge, but she had been a nightmare, it was the least she could do. “No charge,” Luke murmurs, eyes latching to the delicately wrapped dahlias. “Boss’s orders.”

Julie forces another smile onto her lips. “Thank you,” she says. She debates saying anything else, maybe apologizing but she’s already running late and she doesn’t want her family to think she’s bailing on them again.

So, she turns to leave. Immediately, dread starts pooling at the bottom of her belly and she just knows getting to the cemetery will be one of the hardest things she'll have to face.

At watching her leave after a painfully obvious fake smile, Luke hesitates. He’s a curious person, and he doesn’t like to see people hurt. He always needs to make things better; it's part of who he is. So, he bites his lip and launches forward, blurting loudly, “Are you alright?”

Julie nearly snorts because she most definitely is not alright and that much is obvious, but it’s nice of him to ask anyway. She stops in her tracks and turns to him with soft eyes. “I’m not, but thank you anyway,” she replies honestly.

Her eyes drop down to search for a name tag, but he doesn’t have one. She then remembers the name scribbled on the note at the same time he supplies, “Luke.”

“Thank you anyway, Luke,” Julie repeats. Her eyes quickly roam over his features once again. She hadn’t noticed his sleeveless tank was an old band t-shirt, but at this close range, she could tell it had been purposely ripped and destroyed. The shirt, coupled with his distressed denim pants and outdated jean-chain gives her serious 90s vibes. She decides she likes it.

Luke nods in response, folding his lips in an awkward smile. Her warm brown eyes are softer now as they gaze at him and for some reason, he can feel his heartbeat start to pick up. She turns to walk away again and this time he doesn’t interrupt.

He would absolutely deny that he was creeping on her (he just happened to be looking in that direction) but he watches as she ducks into the tattoo parlour across the street. He finds it a bit odd; it seems like a weird place to go after a flower shop, especially given how upset she looked.

One thing he does know: it seems as if Beverly is quite familiar with this mysterious brunette, and he would be lying if he said he doesn't want to know more about her.

x

It's a fair assumption to say Luke’s life is a tad bit complicated at the moment.

His band, Sunset Curve, was graced with the amazing opportunity to record their demo in a borrowed studio. It was a truly unbelievable experience, and Luke was eating up every second. But as the resident songwriter, it was up to him to make sure they had enough original songs to even record.

It’s no secret that Luke has been having trouble in the inspiration department.

The lyrics just weren’t flowing to him like they usually did. He wasn’t really sure of the reason; he originally just assumed writer’s block. But then a certain event occurred and he started to see everything in a different light.

It sounds ridiculous, he knows that.

He doesn’t even know her name.

But her effortless beauty compelled him, and there was something about the sadness in her eyes that drew him in. There were many things about their encounter that were completely out of the ordinary. Her vulnerability and obvious desperation drove his curiosities wild and even though he’d only been in her presence for a few minutes, he was itching to know more.

So, he isn’t the least bit surprised when he starts adding words to his notebook as potential lyrics start spilling out of him.

Specifically, he focuses on her emotions and the obvious distress she seemed to be feeling. It’s out of the realm of his usual type of song, and maybe it isn’t something he’d pitch for the band, but a smile comes to his lips as he thinks of these passages just for himself.

she closed the door

she hides behind a face nobody knows

she feels her skin touch the floor

she wants to fight

but her eyes are tired, nobody’s on her side

she wants to feel like she did before

she looks into her mirror

wishing someone could hear her, so loud

It's definitely not his usual, but her presence in his life gets the ball rolling.

He needs to know more.

Luke finds himself a week later back in Beverly’s flower shop, this time with her by his side. They receive deliveries on Thursday evenings, so Luke usually stops in to help. He hadn’t gotten a chance to pick up another shift since he met the mysterious brunette last week due to back-to-back sessions at the studio, but this was finally his opportunity.

He hasn’t found the right opportunity to ask; he isn’t even sure what to say, but apparently his actions are a bit more obvious than he's intending them to be.

“Am I about to get robbed?”

At Beverly’s odd, but capturing question, Luke turns to her with furrowed brows. She’s sitting behind the counter, checking off their invoices one by one. He’s unloading boxes into the cooler, albeit slower than necessary. He’s a tad bit distracted by the glass windows.

“What?” He mumbles, stopping for a moment to focus on her words. He wipes a hint of sweat off his brow. For someone with a high level of stamina due to the countless hours on stage, he's quite embarrassed at how out of shape he seems to be from a few boxes.

Beverly peeks up at him over the rim of her glasses. “Well, you keep looking out the window, almost as if one of your dorky bandmates is about to run in and break into my register."

Luke snorts at the mention of his dorky bandmates; she definitely isn't wrong. But that isn't the reason why he continues to glance out the window.

“No. It’s just — that girl from last week, with the dahlias. Uh — what’s her name?”

Beverly's smirk is evident and he nearly shies away from the knowing look in her eye. “You didn’t ask for her name?”

His eyes roll back at the obvious judgment in her tone and he wants to laugh, but she's already beat him to it. “I was kind of distracted trying to make sure she didn't cry at the sight of my face."

"Right, I could've warned you about that."

Luke's eyes latch onto her smirk. "You could've."

“She’s a sweet girl,” Beverly sighed, filing another completed invoice. “She’s had a hard life, sad story, really.”

That certainly piqued Luke’s interest.

“What happened?”

But he should’ve figured Beverly wasn’t going to make it that easy for him.

“Not my story to tell,” she says simply. “But I can tell you her name is Julie and she works at the tattoo parlour across the street.”

Realization dawns on Luke at once. He saw her ducking into the parlour after buying flowers but he never imagined she actually worked there. It didn’t seem like her thing, but he should know better than anyone not to judge a book by its cover.

“Are you going to go talk to her?”

At Beverly’s absurd suggestion, he scoffs. “What? No. I was just curious; I don’t even know her.”

Beverly rolls her eyes. “How is it possible that the male species have gotten even stupider since my time?”

Luke drops his jaw in offence, but she's already slid her glasses back on and started studying the next invoice.

Did the thought of casually dropping by the tattoo parlour cross his mind? Yes, of course. But he doesn't want to do that. He isn't used to that. He's never the one that had to chase; it sounds stupid, especially because he hardly knows her, but sometimes there's just a feeling. A feeling that might not make any sense at all, but it's there and it's impossible to ignore.

Luke did his best to ignore the feeling, but only a mere week later, he would find that it wasn't that easy.

x

"Alright, boys. You all understand how important tonight is, right?"

Alex rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, as if Luke hasn't drilled the thought into their minds a million times by now. Ever since they secured this gig, it was all Luke could talk about. They each knew how important it was. Yes, their demo was currently in the making but one amazing performance in front of some killer producers, and their demo may not even be necessary to get signed.

It's exciting and anxious as hell.

"I know, I know," Luke sighs, running his hands nervously through his hair. He can't stay still and he can't stop moving or his anxiety will eat him alive. "I'm just so nervous."

Reggie nods his head from the snack table. They each have their own ways of dealing with pre-stage jitters and nerves; Reggie's happens to be stress-eating, and his food of choice? Hot dogs. How he manages to not upchuck everything when onstage is a question they've all asked themselves multiple times.

"I get it dude," he says through a mouthful. "But we're going to rock this like we always do. It'll be awesome."

Reggie's words are comforting but they do little to ease Luke's nerves. This is a big deal for him, for all of them. After so many years of following their passions and trying to accomplish their dreams, a real chance is finally awaiting them just outside these doors.

It's enough to make him nearly puke twice before he makes it on stage, and it only frustrates him further because he never gets this panicky.

He works himself up before he takes the final plunge and finds his way to the one place in the world he's ever felt truly comfortable; centre-stage in front of a microphone with his guitar slung around his neck.

The lights are bright, but he's used to it. His connection to the crowd is instant; that's never been a problem for Luke. He reaches the crowd in the way he sings passionately, surrendering every emotion each song elicits.

He's trying not to think too much; he doesn't want to get too far into his head because he does his best work musically when he isn't thinking, only feeling the music coursing through his veins. He can easily spot the producers in the corporate pantsuits sitting in the far back corner and his eyes try to avoid them as best as possible.

He focuses on the music, on his boys and on giving the performance of a lifetime.

Luke is so focused, he momentarily misses the sight of his flower shop mystery girl smack-dab in the middle of the crowd. His eyes immediately snap back, catching her polite smile as she nods her head along with the music. Though she isn't jumping along like some fans in the front row, she is offering some acknowledgement that she's enjoying his music.

And he isn't sure why, but it sends a fire through his chest that animates him for the rest of the show.

They don't take any breaks during the set; their dedication is endless.

Luke can physically feel how animated the club is, how unbelievably well their show is going. He shouldn't be surprised but the nerves were too much for him earlier. By the time they're winding down for their last performance of the night, Luke doesn't want it to end.

But he's also perfectly aware of the incredibly important people sitting near the back and he knows he has to face them eventually.

They end their stellar performance with their favourite song to perform, so near and dear to their hearts, and also energetic as hell, Now or Never. It's the perfect oath to live their lives to the fullest, as Luke and the boys try to do every day. Today is no different; an opportunity came knocking and Luke plans to take full advantage.

When Luke finally makes his way off stage, everything seems to happen in slow motion.

He can idly feel Alex pulling on his tank and Reggie wrapping an arm around his shoulders, messing up his sweaty hair even more than it already was.

Even when a woman wearing a salmon coloured pantsuit sneaks into their makeshift dressing room to have a quick word, he feels like he's frozen in time, watching from outside his body.

Alex does all the talking (mostly nervous rambling) but the lady, who later introduces herself as Lucy Fields, happens to think it's adorably hilarious.

She tells them she absolutely loved their performance and sees some real, authentic potential; they're young, have a defined sound and a clear talent for writing their own music. Lucy hands them her card, asks for a phone number for reference and promises to call.

When Reggie confusedly asks what this means, Lucy offers them a small smirk.

"I'm going to set up a meeting with my boss. If he likes what he sees, maybe you guys will be signing some paperwork." At their obvious disbelief, she continues, "You guys will definitely be signing some paperwork."

The silence that follows is palpable, but understandable.

Luke hasn't been able to utter a single word since getting off stage, which is highly unusual for him. This news doesn't help his predicament. Reggie starts coughing violently when he chokes on his water, and Alex is nearly about to drop to the ground because what even is air anymore?

Lucy isn't really sure what reaction she would get, but she isn't expecting complete silence. This is rectified when three, fully-grown man-children launch themselves at her, thanking profusely; Reggie even goes so far to plant a sloppy kiss on her forehead.

"We are so sorry," Alex apologizes breathlessly, yanking Reggie back towards his side. "We've just been wait — this is really huge for us."

But Lucy is laughing, so they know they haven't totally ruined their opportunity before it's even begun. "It's alright, boys. This is exciting, I get it. I'll be in touch," she promises before leaving the way she came in.

It's only fitting that the boys can't find any words for a solid five minutes. How does one sum this up into words? Luke certainly can't; in fact, he's pretty certain his brain is short-circuiting because his mind is completely blank.

"What the actual hell?" Alex mutters, quite literally sitting down on the floor where he stood. "Did that just happen? Am I dreaming?"

In response, Reggie whacks Alex on the back of the head; the blonde whines in pain. "Not dreaming," Reggie replies positively. He turns to Luke, nodding, "Dude, you haven't said a word. You good?"

"I don't know what to say," Luke finally says. "This is fucking wild. I mean — I knew it was a possibility, I know this is what we were hoping for but, it's actually happening."

Alex shoots Luke a toothy grin, eyes involuntarily watering with happy tears. "It's finally happening," he repeats. He braces himself when Reggie suddenly launches himself onto him, then groans when Luke hops on as well, laughing heartily.

"It's finally happening!"

It's only when he's distracted, laughing with his brothers on what is quite possibly one of the best days of his life that he remembers just exactly who is currently outside. Untangling himself, he scrambles off the dog pile and nervously tries to fix his messy hair.

"Shit, I have to go."

Alex furrows his eyebrows. "What? Where?"

"We have to celebrate!" Reggie pouts, grunting when Alex pushes him off.

Luke is busy rummaging through all their belongings, looking for some breath mints or even gum. Alex peeks at his actions with curiosity. "What are you — Lucas Patterson! Who is the girl?"

"Shh!" Luke fires back. He isn't totally sure why he does, because it isn't like she can hear them, but it's automatic. "It's the flower shop girl, Julie. I saw her in the crowd."

Reggie shares an incredibly suggestive look with Alex, and Luke can't help but roll his eyes. He finally locates his emergency pack of breath mints and pops three into his mouth. "The tattoo artist? Oh, dude, get your ass out there."

"Good luck Luke! Don't mess it up!" Alex yells after him.

Luke slams the door shut behind him and chuckles; he really should get some new friends. But if things go as expected at this meeting, he'll be stuck with them for life.

He is keenly aware of the fact that Julie might not even be around anymore. It's more than probable, but Luke hopes luck is on his side tonight.

After all, he owes her somewhat of a thank you.

He was in a musical rut before she stormed into his flower shop and nearly bit his head off. He can't explain it, but their encounter sparked something within him and he found himself writing more lyrics than he could keep up with.

Plus, she seemed to recognize him when they made brief eye contact, so it couldn't be a bad idea, right?

(Tell that to his palms that are obsessively sweating as his bright eyes rake through the hoards of people looking for her.)

Luke finds her relatively quickly; she's perched a top of a stool directly in front of the bar. Even though he can only see her back, he recognizes the cascade of curls down her back.

Maybe luck is on his side.

It’s only when she turns her head to the side and her curls follow, that he notices the black outline of a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. It’s unbelievably simple and void of any colour, but Luke finds it suits her. Her arm reaches out as she playfully hits the shoulder of someone she’s with and Luke catches more of the ink on her skin. He spots the dahlia first, and her reaction at the flower shop when he thought they didn’t have any makes a lot more sense; it must have a deep meaning to her. The urge he feels to know everything and anything about her overwhelms him. He notices some more black ink colouring the entirety of her arm, though he can’t tell what they are from this far away.

He can’t even put into words how good it looks on her, and maybe that’s a little shallow of him to think, but he’s truly floored by her appearance.

He knew she was beautiful when he saw her that first time, but seeing this side of her, this personal side of her; she’s simply gorgeous and he can’t wait to tell her.

He takes a deep breath and fixes his shirt; it's old and ratty and ripped, but it hasn't failed him yet. He has absolutely no idea what he even plans on saying; he never has to think about it, it usually just comes to him.

Luke slides in next to her, flagging down the bartender immediately.

He really needs a drink.

“Rum and coke, please.”

The tone of his voice must render familiar because Julie pivots on her stool with curious eyes and a lazy smile.

“Well, if it isn’t flower shop boy.”

In another world, he might’ve been offended that the only memorable thing about him was that he worked in a flower shop (he would argue his devilishly good looks or sparkling eyes were absolutely unforgettable). But with one look at her tilted head and amused eyes, he's just glad she remembers him at all.

“In the flesh,” he replies, tongue pressed against his teeth to keep from smiling too excitedly. “Though I do think I proved myself on stage; rockstar is a much more badass nickname."

Julie’s eyes twinkle mischievously as she clicks her tongue before pulling the straw of her drink between her lips. Luke’s eyes immediately follow absentmindedly. “I don’t know,” she drawls with a hint of sarcasm, “I think flowers suit you somehow.”

He wouldn't normally associate himself with flowers.

He's all about ripped jeans and band tees; bottomless coffee pots and dark splashes of colour. Flowers don't normally come to mind, but for some reason, the thought that she does associate him with flowers brings a smile to his lip. Clearly flowers mean a lot to her, if the dahlia tattoo is anything to go by.

It also isn't the wildest thought; he does occasionally work in a flower shop, after all.

The bartender slides his drink across the counter and Luke digs into his back pocket for his wallet. His emerald eyes glance at Julie's nearly empty glass and he leans forward to ask for a refill before throwing a few bills onto the counter.

Julie's eyes glance at the new drink and she shoots a shy smile in his direction.

He doesn't know her very well, but from what he's seen, shy doesn't really seem to fit her.

"You're in a band."

It almost seems like a question, but it very obviously isn't. Luke still feels the need to reply.

"Yeah. We do alright," he replies, hiding a chuckle.

If there is one thing that Luke Patterson is one-hundred percent certain of is that Sunset Curve rocks. Record deal or not, he knows it and he'll never give it up.

However, it doesn't seem like he'll have to and the thought brings a smile to his lips.

"You guys are more than alright!" Julie's face brightens as she turns to speak more animatedly. "I have to be honest, I wasn't really for going out tonight, but I was pleasantly surprised."

"Pleasantly surprised because you saw a familiar face or —?"

Julie's head tilts again and his eyes absentmindedly trace her jaw. "Pleasantly surprised because you guys were good and I was having fun." As an afterthought, she smirks and adds, "Plus, the drummer was cute."

Luke's smile immediately drops and he returns his focus to his drink with a pout. "He's unavailable," he mutters grumpily.

But then she laughs and with one quick glance at her amused expression, it's clear she's only messing with him.

"I like your ink," he says with a nod. "Are they your designs?"

At the comment, Julie's eyebrows rise beneath her curls. "They are, yeah," she replies with a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Beverly told me you work at the tattoo parlour across the street," Luke explains with a shrug of his shoulders.

While Luke doesn't realize the gravity of his words, Julie is filled with a rush of excitement. Clearly, he's been talking about her or at least thinking about her. It's especially surprising considering how their first meeting actually went.

But the truth is, she's thought about him too.

It was hard not to, given his kind smile and friendly nature. Though she was stressed at the time, she couldn't help but think back afterwards. She was of the type to think about things constantly, even after it was all said and done. Awkward encounters, stupid things she's said, you name it.

So, nearly crying in front of a cute stranger definitely made the list.

"You talked about me?" Julie asks, revelling in the quick bloom of red that spreads across Luke's cheeks.

Though he's blushing, he seems completely at ease. "I actually asked about you," he admits, taking another large gulp of his glass. He senses the burn of the alcohol passing through his system. "I was curious."

Julie nods, stirring her glass with the black straw. "Not curious enough to stop by?"

This time, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "I would've stood out too much."

At this, Julie's dark eyes roam over Luke's bare arms, subtlety forgotten. She's surprised she even held out this long, given how loose his shirt is. The cutoff sleeves droop low on his sides and she has a decently clear view of his chest at the angle he's sitting. Her eyes automatically snap back up to his face where he's smirking through another sip from his glass.

His arms are still glistening with sweat, but they're bare of any ink.

"I mean, we can always change that," Julie suggests. She hasn't taken notice of how her body has absentmindedly leaned closer to him, but Luke has. If his racing pulse is anything to go by, he's definitely noticed.

Luke lets out a breathy chuckle, gaze dropping to appreciate the tattoos littering her caramel skin (don't even get him started on what her tattoos are doing to him). "Needles and I don't get along too well and I'm sure as hell not about to cry in front of you before we've even had a first date."

Julie's eyes widen at his forwardness and Luke's breath catches in his throat.

But only seconds later, a pleased smile spreads across Julie's mouth slowly and his gaze automatically drops.

"We can change that too."

Luke has mysteriously forgotten how to breathe, but luckily, Julie is making all the first moves. She pulls her phone out of her purse, unlocks it and brings up a new contact page. She hands him the phone with bright, hopeful eyes and he can only take the phone numbly because he's pretty sure his brain is starting to shutdown.

He doesn't ever freeze up. He doesn't panic when it comes to girls.

In any other scenario, he would had had her number minutes ago.

But this. This is different.

It feels odd for him not to be in control but he's weirdly okay with it? He can't explain it, but he'll sure as hell enjoy it.

Julie glances over her shoulder towards the door as Luke finishes up with her phone. He hands it back to her, expertly making sure their fingers brush as she takes it back (see? His game isn't completely gone).

"I have to go," Julie explains, and is that a breathy tone Luke detects? "My friends are waiting, but it was nice to see you again, Luke." Her eyes seem to go blank for a moment and she shakes her head. "Oh — my name is Julie, by the way. Julie Molina."

A grin blooms across his lips. He already knew her name, but he isn't trying to freak her out with that information. "It's nice to see you again, Julie."

Julie slides off her stool and tucks a few wayward curls behind her ear.

Luke knows he shouldn't, but his gaze roams over her figure. But she did oogle his biceps, so they were even, right?

"By the way," he mumbles and curses his mouth that moves faster than his brain. He's up and out of his seat before he notices. "This might be totally out of place for me to say, but I hope you're doing alright. You know — from that day and all."

He's wincing, preparing himself for when she tells him to go to hell or where he can shove his sentiments, but she surprises him. He shouldn't be surprised because she seems full of surprises, but he still is.

It had only been a week since the fifth anniversary of Rose's death but the wound is still just as fresh. She appreciated when he asked her if she was okay back then, and she appreciated it just as much now.

It's quite comical. She actively avoided her co-workers and friends just so they wouldn't ask her if she was okay, because clearly she wasn't. But she didn't mind a complete stranger asking her; in fact, she welcomed and appreciated it.

Obviously Luke wants to know what had her so upset that day. And it wasn't just that day; he can see the sadness that follows as soon as he mentions it now. It's clearly something she struggles with everyday and that kills him. He wants to know how he can help, how he can make it go away.

Hopefully, he'll get that chance one day, but for now, he's still waiting on that first date.

Julie's sad eyes sweep across his crestfallen features and she steps forward. Her delicate hand presses down on his shoulder to bring him closer and she gently presses her lips to the apple of his cheek. She lingers, because she can and even though he just played an entire set under hot, gleaming lights, he still smells amazing.

"I'm doing better, thank you," Julie murmurs, stepping back. Her eyes roam Luke's face; his blown pupils, lips parted in surprise. "I'll message you," she promises, taking a few steps back towards her friends who are staring very obviously.

She has all the power; he doesn't even have her number. But he's alright with it.

It was small and it felt like nothing, but hearing that she was doing better made his heart flutter.

Luke realizes with a start that she's waiting on a final reply from him before she turns around and joins her friends. So, he offers her a smile and watches in mild horror as his arm comes up through its own volition to grace her with a goofy wave.

But she merely laughs before turning back to her friends.

Luke decides he wants to hear that sound as often as possible.

All in all, his night turned out pretty successful. He can't wait to go tell his boys.

x

To say that Luke, Reggie and Alex weren't glued to Alex's phone for the entire next week would be the biggest lie of any of their lives.

Alex had given his number to producer Lucy Fields; she promised to call and now they were waiting hand and foot. They each know there's a chance she may not call at all and any opportunity they thought they got, disappears forever. But they were all choosing to be optimistic.

The anxiety is overwhelming.

Luke thought pre-gig was bad, but post-gig is so much worse.

He has to keep himself busy or he'll go insane. So, he focuses on his writing and offers to take a few more shifts at Beverly's.

And he has no ulterior motive to pick up some more shifts. None at all.

It isn't like he can hide it from Beverly anyway. Not when he has his nose pressed to the glass window every hour to stare at the tattoo parlour across the street.

"Good Lord," Beverly mutters after the fifth hour. "If you don't get over there within the next five minutes, I'm firing you."

Luke whips around to face her, hiding his laughter. "You wouldn't."

"Honey, watch me."

Luke chuckles, detaching himself from the window. He's being extra, he knows. But it's mostly because Beverly's sighs and reactions are priceless. He doesn't need to stare through a window to get a date; not when he's already gotten it.

"No need, Bev," he sasses, grabbing some window cleaner (it's the least he can do). "I'm going out with her later today."

Beverly's eyebrows rise so high, they disappear under her hair. She looks so surprised, Luke wants to laugh. "How did you manage that?"

"Saw her at my last gig," he shrugs, hiding a smile. "You know how charming I am, Bev, it was only a matter of time."

Beverly rolls her blue eyes. "Do you need to leave early to change into a date-worthy outfit?"

Luke glances down at his outfit; his signature black ripped jeans, a distressed white band t-shirt and his plaid jacket hanging across the counter. It's normal Luke attire so he isn't sure what brought on the question. "I was just going to wear this?"

Beverly stares at him for a moment before folding her lips to hide a smirk. "Well, you may as well show her what she's getting."

Clearly Beverly woke up today on attack mode.

Earlier this morning, Julie shot Luke a quick text message. They had been texting ever since the day after Luke's gig, but they were solely feeling each other out, and hadn't made any concrete plans. But it had been a week now, and Julie figured it was time.

Luke awoke to a simple text message from Julie, asking if he wanted to grab a coffee after she was done work. It was the best wakeup call, better than a splash of water across his face. He promised to meet her outside of work since he'd be helping out today too and now he was counting down the minutes.

Coffee was a good start.

It's simple, close to their comfort zones and who doesn't love coffee?

Luke still hasn't heard from Lucy so he's grateful for any distraction.

When the time came, he grabs his jacket, places a sloppy kiss on Beverly's cheek and crosses the street with a grin on his features. He leans against one of the light posts, waiting diligently.

When a man with jet black hair piled on top of his head exits, he hears him yell, "Night Jules! Don't forget to lock up!" He makes brief eye contact with Luke and he seems to recognize him from his gig the other night. He nods his head at Luke, glancing back at Julie before walking off.

Luke swears he watches him smirk before he walks away.

But then Julie exits the building and all focus is immediately on her and only her.

She's once again wearing that army green jacket from their first meeting and when she turns to face him, he realizes she's wearing a distressed denim black mini-skirt. She's also wearing a black crop-top and matching black converse. All he wants to think is if all tattoo artists have a black only dress code, but his brain is currently short-circuiting at all the soft skin he wasn't expecting to see.

It's only when he spots the tattoo located on her upper thigh that he realizes he might have to hold onto the light post for support.

"Hey!" Julie greets with the softest smile. She turns around again to lock the front door and Luke lets out an embarrassing puff of air. Get your shit together, Luke, he thinks to himself. "It's nice to see you again."

Julie debates for a moment if she should hug him but ultimately decides against it. He already seems a little pale, so she opts to nod her head in the direction of the coffee shop.

"How are you?" The words Luke has been chanting in his brain finally make it out past his lips, and he turns to gouge her reaction. His hands are stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans as they walk. The itch to hold her hand is strong but, not yet.

Julie nods her head, smiling. That's always a good sign. "It was a good week. Really busy." She eyes his covered arms. "You sure you don't want some ink?"

"Pretty sure we decided after the first date only."

Julie's intrigued eyes turn to him, amusement lighting them up. "Right. I think we did."

Luke stops to open the door to the coffee shop and waits for Julie to enter before he goes in after her. It's surprisingly not busy, considering the usual post-work buzz, but he likes it better like this. It's a full service shop and by the time Luke and Julie take a seat and pull off their jackets, a friendly waitress is already waiting to take their order.

His gaze is automatically drawn to her displayed tattoos and he nearly forgets to relay his order to the waitress.

"Hey, so, before we get into the first date small talk, I just want to be completely transparent with you."

Luke's smile dims just a smidge. It isn't the greatest way to start a conversation, but he's obviously going to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"That day we first met," Julie takes a full breath, actively avoiding eye contact. She doesn't have to tell him this, but she feels as if he deserves to know. "It wasn't my finest hour. I don't normally snap at employees who are just doing their job, I promise."

Luke nods in accordance.

"That day happened to be the fifth anniversary of the death of my mom."

All the colour from Luke's face drains. He planned to let her finish speaking before he said anything, but he just had to jump in with an, "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," Julie replies with a sad smile. "I've never been good at dealing with that day and I haven't been able to visit her grave properly ever since but my family was hounding me to visit, and she loves dahlias —" Julie's eyes glaze over, so caught up in her own thoughts. "She loved dahlias and I always try to keep some in the house. Beverly helps with that. I just wanted you to know it was an off-day for me, but I do have some baggage I don't totally know how to handle and I think it's fair you know that before you get overly invested."

Oh, but he already is.

Instead of saying something right away, Luke places his hand on the table, palm up. An invitation if she wants it.

"You didn't have to tell me any of that, but I appreciate it," Luke says softly. His pulse quickens when she intertwines their fingers together. "That's not enough to scare me off. If you don't want to move this forward, that's okay, I understand. But it won't be on my account."

Julie solely stares at their intertwined hands before a smile breaks out onto her features.

As if on cue, their waitress appears with their drinks and they begrudgingly let go of each other.

Now that the hard stuff was out in the open, conversation flows comfortably. Julie is having the time of her life, nearly laughing at every other word that comes out of Luke's mouth. He revels in it; making her laugh is the highlight of his days.

Over an hour passes by and they hardly even notice. They're too busy engrossed in each other. Eventually they decide to take a walk; the conversation is too good to stop, but sitting was becoming exhausting.

It's only when Luke's phone buzzes in his pocket that he realizes how much time has passed. He doesn't reach for his phone because that's rude, but it continues to vibrate incessantly and he has no choice.

He quickly apologizes to Julie, who waves him off.

Luke pulls off to the side and Julie busies herself with checking her own phone. The many vibrations are coming from their Sunset Curve group chat, namely from Alex. Luke's heartbeat picks up before he even opens the messages. His eyes scan the screen quickly. Alex's messages are nearly incoherent, a jumble of words and random letters but Luke quickly understands.

ADFAGDJFSHFNG SFFSVVBAAKG

THEY GOOGLEBS US

WE SIGNGG CONTRATS TOMORROWS

They googled us.

We sign a contract tomorrow.

Luke doesn't mean to stop breathing, but he does. He only dials back into planet Earth when Julie gently touches a hand to his arm. "Luke? Are you okay?" She pulls him closer to the wall.

"I —" He doesn't even know how to explain it. His jaw can't seem to close. "We, um  — we met with a producer after our gig. She said she was going to talk to her boss and then call us."

Julie's face immediately lights up.

"That was Alex," Luke continues numbly. "They said they googled us. They want us to sign a contract tomorrow."

Julie's jaw drops in solidarity. "A contract? Like a record deal?"

Luke's neck snaps up to look at her, a smile breaking out over his features.

Holy fucking shit, it's really happening.

"Luke! Congratulations!" Julie immediately launches herself into his arms, boundaries be damned. Luke doesn't mind a single bit, arching his back to lift her off her feet.

He's so happy; he throws all caution out to the wind.

"I've wanted to kiss you since I saw you in the crowd of my show."

Julie's arms lower and her lips split in shock.

The hesitation in her eyes only lasts for a moment.

"I think I have too."

It's all the acknowledgment he needs before he sneaks a hand to cradle her cheek. The sun is slowly setting, but the rays are hitting her cheeks just right. Her dark eyes drop to his lips before they fan closed across her cheeks. Luke sucks in a deep breath, then gently presses his lips against hers, slotting his lips perfectly in between.

It's short, simple, sweet and chaste.

Luke isn't trying to overdo it on their first date. He wasn't even planning on kissing her today, to be perfectly honest. But inspiration and opportunity struck, and he couldn't help himself.

He's pleasantly surprised when Julie secures his head with both hands and surges forward to capture his lips once again. This kiss is nothing like the first; Julie is completely in control, and when her tongue slips into his mouth, chaste isn't really the word he'd use to describe it.

His eyes are easily hooded when she pulls away with a smirk.

And she believed he wasn't invested yet?

"Thought you deserved a proper congratulations. It's not everyday you score a record deal."

Luke swallows harshly, hand crawling into the hair on the back of his head. "Appreciate that," he coughs out.

God, he really needs to learn to be much smoother around her.

As much as Julie enjoys his company and would like to spend even more time with him, this is a special moment for him and it wasn't her he should be with.

Julie lets her hand slide down his arm, squeezing his wrist gently. "I had fun today. But I think you should go be with your band."

An excited grin spreads across his face as he leans down and presses a sloppy kiss to her cheek; Julie can only giggle. "Thank you!" He excitedly taps her nose before starting to run away. He turns momentarily and shouts, "I'll call you!" Then he runs off, leaving Julie laughing.

x

Julie doesn't expect one of the worst days of her life to lead to the best.

But it does.

Luke is infectious. He invades her life so easily and he fits, regardless of the differences.

He understands her baggage and he gives her the time and space necessary to heal. She learns his triggers and recognizes when he needs her and when he needs space. They're respectful of each other's boundaries and it's what makes their relationship work.

Luke surprises her every day.

Sometimes he'll crawl into bed late at night, when Julie has already snoozed off from a long day at work. He'll do his best not to wake her but he misses her all day and can't wait to tell her he wrote a new song. About her. Because all his songs are about her.

When he finds himself in a writing mood, Julie will sit next to him, binging the latest tv show or playing BuzzFeed quizzes on her phone. It doesn't matter what she does, he just needs her there next to him as his inspiration. Sometimes her presence is a distraction more than anything and he'll throw his songbook to the side, pressing his lips to her neck as she loses herself in a fit of giggles.

She's there when their first album is officially released. She's there at their first official show under the new label. She's always cheering him on backstage, his good luck charm.

When they go on their first official tour, she can't attend because she can't leave her work for that long (not that he would want her to anyway, he understands how much she loves her job). It's the first time they're apart for that long, and it hurts but they're mature about it. Instead, they fill the time with late-night phone calls and FaceTime sessions. When he surprises her at home a day early, she nearly throws the bowl she wiping down at his face, then hurriedly jumps into his awaiting arms.

And it isn't often, but sometimes they fight. They're both especially opinionated and like to get in the last word. When it comes to each other, it can sometimes get heated and often they may say something they don't actually mean. Julie loves to sneak out onto the balcony after a fight; the breeze helps her cool down and look at things with more clarity. Luke can't stand the thought of Julie being angry with him, so it never took long before he followed her out onto the balcony. She would quickly crawl into his inviting lap, they would apologize to each other and talk about things more rationally. Sometimes, all it took was the cold breeze and Luke's soft lips against Julie's temple to calm them down.

It's the relationship they've both always dreamed about but never thought they could actually have.

Sure, Luke's fame sometimes comes with a price, but their love for each other trumps everything else.

He eventually allows Julie to ink his skin like she's expressed so many times she would love to do. He gets a matching Sunset Curve tattoo on his bicep with Alex and Reggie; it's simple, just their logo. He trusts Julie and only Julie to do it; he doesn't need anyone witnessing his pain and she's already too far gone to leave him solely because he nearly passes out from a tattoo.

(She also distracts him with soft kisses and no one else could do that.)

When he walks by a jewellery store one day and the pull is too strong to ignore, he knows with one-hundred percent certainty that this is the path he wants to take.

And when he drops to one knee at the most inconvenient of times because she found the velvet box hidden at the bottom of his sock drawer, his plans for a fancy proposal escape his mind immediately. Her hands fly to cover the gasp escaping her mouth, eyes clouding with tears.

Her answer is yes, always yes.

And every year when the anniversary of Rose's death comes around, Luke looks to Julie for guidance on what she needs. It takes time and strength, but with Luke's help, she's able to visit her mother's grave, drop off some dahlias and tell Luke all about the goddess that used to be her mother.

He often wishes he got the chance to meet her because he knows he would have loved her. Every time he visits Rose's grave, he silently promises to love and honour her daughter for as long as he lives. He hopes that's enough to help her soul continue to rest in peace.

At every visit, Julie would wrap her arm around Luke's and lean her head against his shoulder.

He never realizes it originally, but Julie believes her mom is responsible for their meeting, and she makes sure to thank her every visit.

"Thank you, mom," she murmurs quietly. "Thank you for bringing Luke to me."

[herstarburststories]

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr​ ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural​. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas. 

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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[claybefree]

Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again

September Third, Two Thousand and Nine

For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.

I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.

That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.

Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.

We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.

In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.

It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.

Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.

I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.

I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.

Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.

The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.

This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:

Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy

Wanna be the king of the universe

Let`s meet and have a baby now

In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.

The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Far away - P. Parker.

This is an overload of angst, inspired by - and named after - ‘Far Away’ by Nickleback (yes, I’m a nickleback fan, I’m sorry). There WILL be a part two.

No this was not requested, and the gif is not mine. I hope y’all like it!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

WARNING: the contents of this story may be triggering to some readers. This story contains: domestic arguing, mentions of familial death and guilt, mentions of violence, mentions of abandonment, pregnancy, Peter and Y/N both being bitches, and all round angst. Please do not read if this may cause you any offense or trigger you in any way

It had been near 2 months since she had seen Peter. In person, that is.

The relationship between Y/F/N and Peter Parker was an odd one. Best friends through middle school, they were like two peas in a pod. Inseparable to the point where Y/N was adopted as an honorary Parker.

In high school, tragedy struck both of them. Y/N’s mother left, divorcing her father and leaving for California. Ben Parker died, shot by a lawless mugger when he was out looking for Peter. Peter blamed himself. Y/N fell in with the popular crowd, looking for any chance to distract herself from her overwhelming anger. Peter became distracted, finding any and every excuse to escape school once he began an internship with Mr. Tony Stark. Peter and Y/N often vied for the attention of Liz Allen, their crushes on the woman making their anger with one another overflow whenever they were in each other’s presence.

In University, they reunited and decided to start over. One thing led to another and they quickly became lovers, with distance between.

Until she fell pregnant. 7 months into their relationship, she found out about the new life growing inside of her. She was ecstatic, but full of nerves. Peter was anxious, worried for his child and the woman he loved.

Life as Spider-Man was hectic. He grappled with the thought of her getting hurt because of him every day. He had seen the danger that had come to Pepper, what happened to Ben, Ned, almost everybody he held dear.

Her first trimester went by with a rocky start. Y/N fought with her own fears, wondering how she could be a mother when her own wasn’t there to teach her. Nevertheless, she loved peter. She gave her all to him, but he was distant, growing more so every day.

She didn’t want him to go. He had risked his life - and their relationship - far too many times in the past year. He knew it was a risk, he knew his life would be in danger every second he was undercover, but he still went.

Then Tony told him to go undercover.

She was in New York, about to hit her third trimester, and he was in Belgium, unaware of the life growing inside of her.

He broke the news to her of his undercover mission with Clint three nights before he left. That same day, he had missed their scheduled appointment to find out the sex of their baby.

To say there was an argument would be an understatement.

She had printed the picture up, gotten a card for him, and left it waiting on their shared bed for when he got home. Spider-Man was only half of his job, the other half was spent with incredibly long hours at the lab with Tony working on whatever their incredible minds could think of that day.

Sometimes she felt as if their relationship had been mostly made up of her waiting on him.

He had walked in the door, moving to gather his stuff together from the spare room they had in their apartment that housed his gear. They were set to turn it into a nursery.

He told her of the mission as soon as he walked in, immediately erasing the excited grin from her features.

“How long is it going to take?” She fought the nerves from building, knowing that the longest mission he had been on before had been two weeks. Tony told her when her and peter moved in together that Peter wouldn’t be expected to go on a mission any longer than that.

Peter sighed, grabbing a large bag. He had to head back for debriefing, and training before the mission began. He didn’t expect to be back home before he had to leave. He didn’t want to leave her, but he had came to terms with the fact that he was Spider-Man before he was Peter.

“I don’t know, Y/N. At least a month and a half-“

“You can’t go!” She interrupted.

Peter chuckled softly, paying no mind to her growing anger. “Yeah, I do. Clint and I are the only ones that can go unnoticed. Nobody has seen my face, and Clint has done so many undercover missions. He’s practically living a new life every month.” He hustled around the room once again, grabbing every box of spare cartridges for his web shooters. “After all, this is what I do.”

Y/N scoffed. Recently, he had been putting everything before his family. He missed their anniversary in favour of working on a new web formula with Tony. Her birthday was spent alone with nothing but a 10 minute phone call from him because he was on patrol. Now, he had missed the day they had both been looking forward to for months.

She didn’t want to be selfish, she loved him fiercely, but his child needed him too. Every time he left the house with his suit, she feared for his life. Now, she had the baby to think about too. It was about more than just her.

She tried to push down her feeling that he didn’t even want to be a father.

Peter rolled his eyes at her scoff. “Y/N. I’m Spider-Man. That means that I need to help people, not just be here when you want me to.”

“That’s not what it is, Peter!” She exclaimed, eyes widening at his words. “I’m due in three months!”

He rubbed his hand down his face, huffing. “Y/N, can you just stop? Please? I need to go, and you’re not going to stop me. This is my job. Tony and May are here.”

“I thought your ‘job’ was spending hours with Stark and forgetting that I exist,” she snarled, making quotation signs with her hands. Tensions had been high between them lately, the past two weeks turning their house into a war zone. She was sure her news would bring a happier note, but the news was all but forgotten at the time. “We are your family, Peter!

His eyes were blazing with anger, his bags in his hands as he slipped past her to the door. He spared a look at her swollen stomach, almost sadly.

“Peter!” She called after him as he ignored her, stomping through their apartment.

She tried a few more times, latching onto his hand as he got closer to the door.

“Please, don’t go. The last mission you were on, you came back with four broken ribs and a concussion. I can’t lose you, we need you,” he refused to look at her.

“You won’t lose me, y/n. I’m an adult, I don’t need you to babysit me. Enough, I need to go. This is about more than just you, so please cut the crap,” he sighed at her, anger pulling his brows down and crinkling his nose in the way she had memorized.

Y/N had struggled with trust issues since before her mother left, and she had used all of her courage to trust peter, but the anger and fear were too much, her mouth working without instruction. “Why don’t you just fucking admit that you don’t want to have a family, Peter? You’ve made it perfectly obvious that the baby means nothing to you!”

That set him off. “Grow the fuck up, Y/N. This may shock you, but this isn’t about you, for once! Don’t you ever say that I don’t want this child.”

She scoffed at him again, spitting, “you couldn’t even bother to fucking show up for the sonogram today. Our baby is fine by the way, not that it matters, obviously.”

His laugh was evil. “You’re so fucking perfect, aren’t you? I’m sorry that I have a job, unlike you. I fucking save people, every day. I don’t have time to hold your hand through fucking everything because you’re a narcissist!”

She was taken aback by his shout, her next words flying out without the filter between her brain and mouth coming into action. “You know what? Fine!” She shoved his arm away. “If you walk out that door, don’t fucking bother coming back. You don’t care that we need you here, so don’t even bother being apart of this.”

“You’re kicking me out because I’m going on a mission?” His laugh was sarcastic, almost full of disbelief. “You really are selfish, Y/N.” He wrenched the door open with his free hand, not bothering to kiss her like he always did before a mission. No further words were exchanged, only a longing glance at her stomach and a fleeting look in her eyes.

She was left in the quiet apartment.

She trudged to their room - her room, now - fighting the tears threatening to fall. The photo of their baby was sitting carefully on the bed right next to the card.

The dam broke, tears streamed down her face and sobs ripped from her chest.

She picked up the photo of herself and Peter from when they announced their pregnancy. He was on his knees in front of her, hands on either side of her small bump, smiling brightly with love in his eyes, and she was looking at him the same way.

She flung it against the wall, watching the glass shatter from the frame and fall to the ground.

She pulled the card up from its spot, reading over the words inside.

‘I have loved you all along, Peter. Thank you for beginning this journey with me. We’re so far from where we began.

I know that our little girl will be as perfect as you are.

All my love, Y/N.”

The two months has passed agonizingly slow. Her heart wrenched each day when she woke to an empty bed. Their baby grew steadily, now a month away from making her entrance.

Her new routine had been to watch the news every morning before her daily run. Her work hours had decreased, but she filled her schedule to clear her head, in order to stop the pain.

She hadn’t spoken to peter since he left, she barely even knew where he was.

Jedd Walters was on the news, his booming voice echoing through her house as she watched from the kitchen.

“This just in,” his voice grew more urgent. “After months of being undercover, we are saddened to report that beloved Avengers, Spider-Man and Hawkeye are missing after a KGB detonated bombing brought down the building they were in. After two days of searching, neither man has been found, but many Belgium citizens have been wounded, with no casualties as of yet. More information will come available as the story progresses.”

The scream that tore from her throat was full of pain, and the tears that fell from her cheeks burned.

Tag list: @starshonerose @another-lonely-heart @mantlereid @snookiebrookie @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3