#did anyone think about this for a minimum of 10 seconds before deciding on this?

[neobastard]

there's now an avatar on the line for completing tea time with tavi

oh brother, and just after prices started going down for the required quest items...

the exact requirements are unknown but some people have said that they received it for completing two quests in a row, i'll update this post when it's 100% confirmed.

[ladykailitha]

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 10

The boys spend their day in Indy just having fun and getting to know each other a bit. Also what happens to Steve at the thrift shop actually happened to my husband. He and a group of friends went to a thrift store to find the wildest outfit they could put together and my husband’s outfit shouldn’t have worked, but did.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4 Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8 Part 9

*

Steve pulled away from the hotel parking lot and looked over at Eddie. “You ready for the only portion of this shindig that I’m paying for?”

Eddie laughed. “I still worry about breaking your bank, Stevie.”

“I’m using my dad’s ‘emergency’ credit card for this, sunshine,” Steve replied. “And if asked, I’ll just tell him that the earthquake caused minor damage to the house.”

“Steven Alexander Harrington are you committing fraud?” Eddie asked all wide-eyed with mocking shock.

“One, how the fuck do you know my full name?” Steve asked. “And two, it’s only fraud if my father didn’t authorize my use of the card, which he did. Regardless of what the use is for, I can’t commit fraud.”

Eddie laughed. “It was on your medical leave forms. I may have had Robin peek while you were still out from dehydration and low blood sugar. Something I still need to kick your ass for by the way.”

Steve snorted. “Traitors. The both of you. And until you can catch me, sunshine, I think I’ll be fine in the ass kicking department.”

Eddie pouted.

Steve reached out and stroked his cheek. “Did anyone tell you, you have the most beautiful eyes ever?”

Eddie leaned into the touch. “Not usually. Mostly they’ve been called dirty or muddy. Though, I do recall my mother calling them chocolate buttons, but that’s more cute, than beautiful.”

Steve dared to take his eyes off the road for a brief second to smile fondly at him. He turned back to the road. “You are by far the most amazing person I have ever met. But if we’re being honest, I think I was attracted to you before the Upside Down bullshit.”

“Right back ‘atcha, big boy,” Eddie teased.

They pulled up to the first thrift store and it was closed.

“Stupid places being run by religious nut jobs,” Steve groused on their way back to the car. “Don’t these assholes realize that poor people don’t work nine to five?”

Eddie shook his head. “And what would you know about that?”

Steve looked over at him confused. “You do realize that I have a held down a minimum wage job for the last year, right?”

Eddie frowned. “But why? You have access to your dad’s credit cards. Why work if you don’t have to?”

Steve buried his hands into his jeans’ pockets and leaned up against the door of the car. “Until I turned eighteen I was given an allowance to do whatever the fuck I wanted. Usually beer and weed. But when I didn’t graduate top of my class to get into all those fancy schools, they cut me off. The credit card I have access to is for ‘emergencies only’. And paying the house bills.” He cocked his head to the side. “And for making sure I continue to look the part of their dutiful son.” He waved at his clothes.

“But I decided to say ‘fuck it’, you know,” he continued. “Since I’ve turned eighteen I don’t think they’ve stayed in that house more than a week or two at most. And that’s total, not at a time.” He kicked at the pavement scuffing his sneaker. “If they can’t be bothered to come running home when the god damn earthquake was on the national news, then I’m going to go hog wild. I’m going to have fun and give the best, bravest boy a day of fun. Because he deserves it. Because I deserve to give it to him.”

Eddie pulled Steve into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sometimes I forget that I’m not a mind reader and can’t actually know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and buried his head into his shoulder. “I just hate that even the people closest to me still apologize for me being a dick in high school or act like I haven’t changed. Like when Nancy and Robin picked me up from the hospital they were teasing me about me about something that Robin thought was misogynistic but it wasn’t. But they acted like they expected me to be. Just because of that’s how I would have been in high school.”

Eddie rubbed Steve’s back. “Maybe it’s because I’ve had time away from you since high school I can see that you’ve changed. You call me brave. But honey, I only did what I had to to save Dustin. But you? Darling, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most people don’t literally put their bodies on the line for people that hurt them.” He leaned back so that he could see Steve’s face. He reached up and cupped his cheek. “People unconnected to them via blood ties. You and Robin could have walked away at any time. And probably should have after being tortured. But you didn’t. You stuck around. You fought against the toughest bad guy even in fantasy terms and you still stuck around. And that’s worthy of praise in my book.”

Steve let out a sigh and nodded. Eddie pressed their lips together.

“Come on,” he said, pushing Steve to the side so that he could open the door for him. “There must be thrift shop not run by poor people hating bastards.”

Steve laughed and got into the car.

Eddie hurried to the passenger side and pointed at the road. “Tally ho!”

Steve just shook his head and did as he was bid.

*

The next shop was open and while they were looking for band shirts, they also decided to see who could come up with the tackiest, most horrifically colored monstrosity of an outfit.

Eddie won. Even though Steve had picked outrageous colors, wild patterns, and a mishmash of styles when he put it all together, it looked good. Eddie laughed so hard.

“I don’t know what happened,” Steve whined.

Eddie looked around before pulling him close. “I do. You just have this perfect sense of style that even when it’s supposed to be awful, you make it look good.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I guess so. I wish I brought a camera to take a picture of this, so we can show them back home.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be right back!” He took off like a shot running around the shop like a gremlin. He came back a few minutes later with an ancient looking Polaroid camera.

He took a couple of pictures of Steve in different poses and then had Steve do the same with him.

They paid for their purchases. Eddie having found and bought the camera at the thrift shop. What had taken the time was finding film for it.

They went out for lunch and Eddie took a picture of the two of them at the restaurant, smiling into the camera.

Eddie took Steve to his favorite record store. They wandered around and abused each of their music tastes. But they both agreed that Depeche Mode brought something new and interesting to the genre. So Steve bought “Black Celebration” on cassette for the ride home.

Eddie looked up at the guitars longingly.

“Wayne told me that he was only able to find your acoustic,” Steve said softly, “but not the Warlock after the earthquake.”

Eddie nodded. “I think it was because it got destroyed in the Upside Down, it didn’t exist in the Top Side anymore.”

Steve gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Eds.”

Eddie nodded and they left soon after.

*

They palled around Indy for a bit. Taking in the sites and just giggling like school children.

They headed back to hotel to shower and change for dinner.

As they opened the door to the hotel room, Eddie said, “You don’t have some other mega star going to meet us for dinner, do you?”

Steve laughed. “Not for dinner, no.”

Eddie eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean not for dinner? Does that mean Ozzy was the only super star or does that mean I’m meeting someone else later?”

Steve just grabbed his bag and ducked into the bathroom without saying a word.

He just took a short shower and got out quickly. He came back out to see Eddie rummaging around a large black gift bag.

“Ozzy’s team finally delivered,” Eddie said. “You have one, too.”

Steve walked up to the bag that was on the fancy side table near the door. There was a tag that said, “For Steve, the guard dog.”

He just shook his head and took it over to the bed to look through what he got. There were a couple of tour shirts and some cassettes. A signed tour poster. At the bottom of the bag were two small boxes. There was a little note attached to the largest of the two boxes.

“Every good guard dog needs cool sunglasses.” Steve opened it up and on the inside of the top of the box was some designer from England that he only vaguely recognized because his mother had gone on and on about them the last time she was home. The glasses weren’t round like Ozzy’s but they weren’t sharp like Steve’s.

They looked like the guy in the suit’s sunglasses. Carefully crafted to cover the whole eye and rest comfortably on the bridge of his nose. He put them on and holy hell. He could see clearly but through the tint of the glass. They were far superior to fancy sunglasses he bought.

Eddie whistled. “Looking good, Stevie.” He saw the other box. “What’s in that?”

Steve looked down at the smaller box in confusion. “I don’t know yet.” He opened the lid and gasped. It was a simple necklace with a single red crystal hanging from it. The crystal shimmered like a flame.

“Wow,” Eddie murmured. “You’re wearing that tonight, yes?”

Steve could only nod. Not wearing it would feel like he was insulting Ozzy’s tastes or rather his wife’s Sharon’s. But also because it was beautiful in and of itself.

“You think it’s safe for me to take a bath or no?” Eddie asked as he stood up up from the bed.

Steve looked at his watch. “I’d wait until we get back tonight. We still have eat and get into our clothes for the concert.”

Eddie nodded. He got a quick shower and was back out in minutes. They put on clothes similar to the night before, with just the dinner jacket the same.

Steve kissed Eddie sweetly on the lips and Eddie hummed happily.

“This trip just keeps getting better and better, sweetheart,” he said, resting his forehead against Steve’s.

“It isn’t over with yet,” Steve promised. “There is so much more coming. So so much more.”

Eddie sighed. “You are too good to me, baby.”

Steve kissed him again. “I’m really not. It’s the perfect level of awesome for you.”

“But too good for Dustin, right?” Eddie teased, reminding Steve of what he said at the hospital.

“Taking him to Indy for the weekend would have been too good for the butthead,” Steve deadpanned.

Eddie burst out laughing. “That’s certainly true.”

Part 11  Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15 Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20

Tag List: @anaibis @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @whalesharksart @nburkhardt @snapshotmaestro @shrimply-a-menace @theotalksalot @child-of-cthulhu @bookbinderbitch @cr0w-culture @punctualhowell @obliosworld @eddiemunsonswife @sharingisntkaren @dididisrespectyourbridgegoatman @lillemilly

[miniscrew-anon]

Crack idea : Wild bakes a big ass tray of weed brownies and accidentally leaves it on the kitchen counter because he straight up forgets to pack it away after leaving it to cool. And everyone helps themselves.

Time - A spacey, unable to focus type of high. I can't decide if it's funnier if he shows up to a meeting with Dark or Lullaby while he's high as fuck. Lullaby would think he's been compromised and set the castle medical staff on his ass, creating a larger spread of people who find out about him getting blazed on the job. Dark would keep it to himself but laugh his ass off for twenty straight minutes while Time tries and fails to make himself commanding because he keeps losing his train of thought mid sentence. Time is pretty convinced he's fine though. Really, he's good. He has no idea what anyone else is talking about.

Dark would also show up high to the next meeting because "You did it"

Twilight - has no goddamn idea what's happening but he's cool with it. Super relaxed and chill. He laughs at everything and raids the snack cabinet. He opens every single packet, eats two bites, then goes for a different snack. Ends up opening every single item, even their dried pasta stock. Think Wild just makes amazing brownies until it wears off and Twi realizes what the hell has happened.

Warriors - Immediatly naps it off. Seriously. THC puts him right to sleep. He gets to enjoy the spins for about ten minutes before he just pulls a Sky and crashes on the couch. Is very disappointed he missed the whole thing and is pissed about sleeping without doing his usual skincare routine first.

Sky - Absolutely loses his sense of time. He'll go get a drink at 2:20, sip his water, go back upstairs and then marvel at the fact that it's only 2:21 now because to him it felt like 10 minutes. The concept of time becomes his new favorite toy and he'll keep checking his phone every three minutes and losing his mind because what do you mean it only took him three minutes to pee?? He swears he was in the bathroom for half an hour, minimum.

Wind - Can't keep up with his discord feed because he has to read a message three times to absorb it. Plays games like shit because he can't focus when his messages keep blipping at him. Goes downstairs midstream to drink some water because "maybe hydration will fix me" but then forgets he was streaming and never goes back up because oohhh snacks. Becomes the second member of the Kitchen Snacking Club and for once is too high to start shit with Twilight. Him forgetting his stream becomes an in-house meme.

Legend - Figures out what happened almost immediately because this dude knows his drugs. He gets Hyrule to call in sick and then just relaxes in his room until it wears off, satisfied with himself because he stopped Hyrule from committing medical malpractice. Then he types out a big message to the group chat explaining what happened so no one freaks out. Doesn't realizes until later he never hit the send button.

Hyrule - Gets an impromptu day off and spends it just chilling in bed together all day and honestly it's great. I mean, it's not great how he got there and he's for sure going to be a huge ball of anxiety about it later but for now he's just a cute little giggling guy. Goes downstairs at some point for a drink and then forgets to go back upstairs and leaves Legend waiting for him.

Four - Tries welding something and ends up staring at that little blue flame for ten straight minutes because he's captivated by how pretty it is. Cannot focus for shit on a good day so he becomes absolutely useless. Starts projects, works for ten minutes, forgets he even started the project and repeat for an hour. Stares at the garage wall for thirty minutes because he's pondering the color of the paint. Eventually he gives up and just goes to join the snack crew in the kitchen.

Wild - HE FEELS REALY BAD OKAY??? Those brownies were meant to be for a party but he forgets to bring the Fun Tray and doesn't think about it past being disappointed he forget them at home. Not until he gets home, sees the empty tray and the pile of opened snacks on the kitchen counter and realizes Oh Fuck I Just Left An Unlabeled Tray Of Weed Brownies In The Kitchen.

[junkartie]

I'm hearing 2 opinions on Erdogan and idk I wanted to ask you bcs I got both of them from non-natives. So the first says that he IS a good president, there is just too many outside factors trying to bring him down. And the second told me that he WAS a good a help for the country until he decided to care about some other things (colonisation ?) which eventually led to the current downfall. Maybe both are right or both are wrong, what do you think?

(can you tell I love political discussions because I don't I'm just really invested cause you're one of my fav blogs hehe)

Non natives love to defend Erdo which is why us Turks have a whole term for them. Most of it however DOES stem from the second option being true.

Erdogan was in fact a very good leader in his first few years of power, now my family personally never liked him, he technically was in power on the sidelines for 10 years until he became president 10 yrs go. He did many things like make hospitals and healthcare way more accessible, fixed a lot of roads and built bridges etc. Now you may go “jay, isnt that what a normal president is supposed to do ?” Well, yes. But the guy before him didnt do a whole lot, so him doing his literal job was enough to convince people he was good enough to keep around.

As time went on he started to take a way harsher approach. Slowly but surely the price and tax on everything went up. Religion started to be the hottest topic in turkey despite us being a secular country on paper.Slowly festivals became too loud, protests were bothersome, pride parades were sinful, gays werent considered people, music after 12 wasnt allowed, Eurovision was something too embarrassing for our country to take place in, alcohol was a luxury that only the desperate & sinful tried to buy, women were not obedient enough, the legal age to get married was too high, sex before marriage became a big topic, rapists and murderers would walk freely, femicide got to a brand new high and a whole lot more.

This all happened slowly and gradually. By the time we thought to speak up on any of this the i-don’t-even know, 60% yearly inflation rate had worn us down. A dollar was no longer 2.5 TL, it was close to 25. Nothing could be bought with minimum wage. Whatever you bought, you bought a second one for the govt in tax (a phone here costs twice the price of one in america). People who vote for him mostly do so because all media outlets are heavily censored and totally in his favor. He has control of literally everything. Literally!! He hosted a referendum where he legally was given so much power that he can change whatever he wants on a whim. He will confidently lie out of his teeth and tell his supporters that the reason everything is so expensive is because of his opposition (who have virtually no power) + its fine because even if we’re poor we’re closer to god and his supporters eat it up because they have some fucked up parasocial relationship with him.

Right now we’re screwed beyond belief. The election was rigged in his favor but despite everything he either wasnt able to end it on the first round or intentionally didnt so he could win by a higher margin on the next round. The house is fucked, the opposition lost a ton of seats to highly religious islamic fanatics who straight up advocate for sharia law. That and the president literally had an alliance with a terrorist organization who want 15 year olds to get married, theyre also in the house. Its great.

Now we wait for the 28th, but its going to take a miracle for Erdogan to lose. I have virtually 0 hope at this point. One thing is foreigners defending him, but any turk who does so deserve everything they get. I truly hope anyone who voted for him suffer a fate worse than death (at this rate, they will). It may sound harsh, but ive seen no one in power except for this absolute sorry of an excuse, cunt of a man. My teens and childhood was wasted away with terrorist attacks and a staged coup, along with a power hungry man who made every walking day of my life worse than what it could have been.

Basically, wish us the best of luck i guess lol.

[mossyinkynebulous]

I'm sorry, I was just looking over the Watty's stuff and like wtf.

Disclaimer: I've been on Wattpad since 2015, so like 9 years now (makes me feel old) and never once participated in their awards competition, the Watty's. Wasn't there to win awards, was there to win hearts. (even if I update as slow as molasses) Anyways gonna ramble under cut

So, Wattpad. Ya know, that site that's known for fanfiction. That site that was built up by fanfiction. That site that has decided that fanfiction is no longer acceptable to be submitted to the Watty's... Oh ya didn't know that. Yeah, apparently this is the second year that they haven't allowed fanfiction to be submitted. Was skimming comments and supposedly to staff, most stories on Wattpad are original works. Which I feel they're about as original as a fanfic work when I'm pretty sure a good section of that is built up by werewolf fics that almost always read about the same and are as predictable as can be after you read like 3 of 'em, but oh no most of the works are og. Sure copyright is an issue, but ya wanna know something? Fanfic writers usually don't want money or anything for what they've written, they just want their work to be acknowledged and appreciated. So like, idk, there could just be no prize besides like a hey this work won the fanfic category congrats to it.

Two more qualms about the Watty's: poetry and short story collections aren't eligible either. Why? No reason in particular given. Guess is that 500 word minimum per "chapter" that amounts to 50,000 words is just /too hard to judge\. As someone who has managed to acquire honorable mention and have a poem I wrote published in a book of poems by others, I find this disheartening that this website that encourages creativity is removing two forms that many people work extremely hard to do. Do they realize how hard it is to write a series of poems? Do they realize how hard it is to tell a full story in only a few words, much less multiple? Do they realize how disheartening it is to be reading over the guidelines thinking hey I may be able to actually enter this year only to read at the end that the genre you write isn't accepted?

I knew I couldn't enter regardless of the genre limitations. For completed works, it's had to have had its first chapter published after January of 2022, and all of mine that are completed were years before that. For ongoing works, you have to have had updated once a week for 8 of the 10 weeks prior to entering and I update like once every 3-6 months if lucky.

Another complaint about Wattpad I have is that they took away my dm's. Unhinged, I know, but I actually used them occasionally. Like if I wanted to have a conversation with someone instead of in the comments section of a story we could just dm on the same site and not have to worry about putting a social media or contact to where anyone could just come dm you and you have no idea why. I enjoyed reading over past rp I did with someone back in like 2016 because we fell out of touch and it was the only rp I did with someone that wasn't pencil and paper being passed back and forth in someone's room, that happened like twice btw.

Wattpad has slowly become a site that I don't know anymore. It's become a place where I've stayed only out of nostalgia (and I'm used to its formatting). A place where a part of me grew up at and called home. A place that is now a shell of the home that it used to be. It saddens me to see it slowly deteriorate from what it used to be. No one I know uses it anymore, and those that I mention that I still do almost always ask why, why haven't I moved to AO3 or another site, or are surprised that it's still being used anymore. Wattpad was there for me when I started to slip. It was there for me when I was at my lowest. It was my escape...but I don't think it can be anymore. I'll try to finish the ongoing fic I have there and uphold the promise I made with myself, but after that I don't think I'll use it anymore. Not after all of these changes that keep happening and honestly, saying goodbye to it is like saying goodbye to a long time friend.

[masterofd1saster]

CJ current events 11jul24

***

Alec Baldwin shooting Hutchins to death trial

Alec Baldwin’s wife, Hilaria, came out to support her husband at a Santa Fe courthouse Tuesday for the start of his involuntary manslaughter trial in the death of “Rust” cinematographer Halyna Hutchins. The couple arrived in separate black SUVs, with the “30 Rock” star seen on video stepping out of the second vehicle with his attorney in tow.*** Tuesday marks the start of the jury selection process in Santa Fe. The case, which is expected to last 10 days, will be livestreamed on Court TV following the jury selection, with opening statements set to begin as soon as Wednesday.***

+++

Baldwin's high risk production

(NewsNation) — A veteran armorer who turned down a job on Alec Baldwin’s “Rust” movie said there were red flags about the production that caused him to back out even as he was packing to go to the set.*** The schedule would have given him ten days to prepare for a western full of shooting scenes, a job Zoromski said usually requires a minimum of five weeks of preparation. “So I felt that they were being extremely loose and rather cavalier with cementing this position on the crew,” he said. Zoromski said he voiced those concerns and requested a staff of five trained gunsmiths and armorers. He said the production team agreed, but right before he left for the airport, he got an email. “They had made the decision to reduce my staff to three, and they let me know that, you know, please be aware that this is a low-budget, ambitious production,” he said. “At that point, I felt that our entire negotiation fell apart due to bad faith. The clothes were in the suitcase. This is how close I came.” Zoromski decided to decline the job, and in his response, he warned the team about the risk they were taking.*** He also said it was a red flag that Baldwin was handed the gun by the film’s assistant director and not Gutierrez-Reed herself. “If Mr. Baldwin is a seasoned actor, he should have refused that from anyone other than the armorer,” Zoromski said. As the actor and producer on the film, Zoromski said he believes Baldwin knew corners were being cut. He also thinks the actor would have known about his reasons for turning down the job. “He is a producer. He’s an executive producer. He’s the star of the movie. So regardless of whether he was a laissez-faire or a hands-off producer, he would have been advised of all of those personnel changes. And he was more than likely notified that I did not take the job as well.”***

https://www.newsnationnow.com/crime/veteran-armorer-turned-down-rust-job/

***

Carjacker shot outside Justice Sotomayor's residence

A deputy US Marshal shot a suspected carjacker who pulled a gun on two marshals guarding Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s home in Washington, DC, officials said. The deputies were parked outside Sotomayor’s home in northwest DC on July 5 when Kentrell Flowers, 18, allegedly walked up to one of their cars around 1:15 a.m. and pointed a gun at the bodyguard, the US Marshals Service told The Post.***

Flowers was treated for non-life threatening injuries.

Does that pistol look like something Flowers bought at Cabela's?

***

That's a lot of lead

The East Lake neighborhood in Birmingham, Alabama recorded >2,000 shots in 2023. Some of this is clearly a broken windows problem.

*** The mayor also mentioned authorities will focus on combating prostitution, illegal dumping and drug dealing in the neighborhood. East Lake residents were concerned to hear the number of shots, but say they are not surprised. Robin Willis describes the area as a war zone. She says she takes extra precautions in her daily life, such as not leaving her house at night, due to criminal activity and gun violence. “You can’t just live and say, I’m perfectly fine or it just doesn’t bother me, you have to be safe,” Willis said.

https://www.cbs42.com/news/in-2023-over-2000-gunshots-were-recorded-in-birminghams-east-lake-neighborhood/

Take care of the little problems before they become big.

***

Why do people hate lawyers?

In 1982, pastor Robert Morris was a 21-year-old husband and father who traveled the country telling young people about Jesus. Cindy Clemishire was a 12-year-old girl who dressed in flowery pink pajamas and still liked to play with Barbie dolls.***

He repeatedly molested the 12-year-old girl.

But 25 years later, when Clemishire hired an attorney and threatened to sue Morris, accusing him of repeatedly molesting her as a child, a lawyer representing Morris responded by blaming Clemishire for what happened to her, according to 2007 correspondence obtained by NBC News. “It was your client,” wrote lawyer J. Shelby Sharpe, referring to Clemishire at age 12, “who initiated inappropriate behavior by coming into my client’s bedroom and getting in bed with him, which my client should not have allowed to happen.”***

Clemishire went public with her accusations last month in a post published by the church watchdog site The Wartburg Watch. Morris responded with a statement admitting to “inappropriate sexual behavior” and saying he had long ago confessed and repented. Gateway Church leaders initially said Morris had been “open and forthright about a moral failure he had over 35 years ago” but later said they did not know Clemishire was a child at the time. Within days, Morris resigned as senior pastor of the megachurch he started in 2000, and Gateway elders hired an outside law firm to investigate the matter.***

Really must agree with the lady in the picture -

***

Oakland descending into Oaklandness

Leighton Woodhouse notes

OAKLAND, California — Around 4:30 a.m. on July 5, dozens of people broke through the front door of a 76 gas station mini-mart near Oakland’s international airport. For about 40 minutes, the mob casually looted tens of thousands of dollars of merchandise and stole $22,000 in cash from the ATM. The sole employee working the window ran away, called the police, and was told to file an online report. It reportedly took cops nine hours to finally arrive on the scene.

Earlier, on Juneteenth, 14 people were shot and injured in a gunfight by Lake Merritt, Oakland’s equivalent of Central Park. One of the victims was walking toward a Korean restaurant when a man strode up and shot him in the hand and in each thigh for no apparent reason. As the victim lay bleeding on the sidewalk, another stranger stole his phone. Over a six-day period in late June and early July, thirteen elderly Asians were robbed and attacked on the street outside their senior living facility just north of Lake Merritt. The president of the building’s resident council believes the real number was more than double that when accounting for victims who did not file a police report. Then, last week, a viral video showed a man who was recently released from prison brutally beating and robbing two Asian women, one of them elderly. 

Oakland has a long history of crime, but residents say there’s something sinister about this current wave. The past several months alone have been so chaotic that community organizer Seneca Scott, who has lived here for 12 years and is also a Free Press contributor, declared on X on July 7 that “Oakland has fallen.”*** “There’s this sense of lawlessness,” LeRonne Armstrong, the city’s former police chief who was fired last year by the mayor and is now running for city council, told me. “This sense of, we can do whatever, there really aren’t any consequences—almost like a video game, like Grand Theft Auto or something.”

Even the nonviolent crimes reflect that video game–like absurdity. In January, about two blocks away from the 76 station, thieves hooked an outdoor Bank of America ATM to a van, tore it from the wall, and dragged it down the street. It was the second ATM in the area to be stolen just that morning.  About three blocks away is a shuttered In-N-Out Burger. In March, the restaurant became the first the company has ever closed after customers and staff were subjected to a relentless barrage of car break-ins, thefts, and robberies. Across town, in the tony neighborhood of Rockridge, a liquor store was burglarized four times by thieves ramming cars through its glass front doors, a method that has become increasingly common in the Bay Area. *** Last year, a local survey showed that 92 percent of Oakland businesses don’t bother reporting crimes, for a simple reason: it makes almost no difference. 

A report published in February showed the Oakland Police Department had a case clearance rate of 1.5 percent for serious criminal offenses in 2022, and just 6.5 percent for violent crimes. In other words, there’s a 93.5 percent chance you’ll get away with attacking someone in Oakland, and a 98.5 percent chance you’ll get away with a crime like burglarizing a store or stealing a car. When it��takes days to get the most routine response, it leads to a sense of impunity. Many victims and witnesses don’t even get far enough to file a police report, since it can be a challenge to get through to a 911 dispatcher in the first place. Oakland has the slowest 911 response time in the state and is at risk of being referred to the state attorney general over the problem. *** The abysmal understaffing of the Oakland Police Department is a function of two stubborn and related realities: the city council is ideologically committed to reducing the role of the police, and new police officers are reluctant to work for the city. ***

What’s more, the city’s police force has been under federal oversight for more than two decades. This federal monitoring has created a culture of passivity within the force, as officers are more likely to be scrutinized for acting—rather than failing to act—in the field. Under the federal monitor, “officers are being disciplined for very minor mistakes,” said Armstrong, the former police chief. “So they adopt a risk-averse approach. Doing less is safer, career-wise.” Add to that a district attorney, Pamela Price, who ran on the promise of prosecuting more officers, and “why even bother to do your job?” wondered Oakland Report’s Gardner. The result of all this has been creeping anarchy, which has turned the city into a magnet for crime tourism. Oakland’s free-for-all is now attracting criminals from outside the city, Armstrong told me, because they know they can get away with it.***

***

BB -

[n1k1tty]

kiss me ! part 1

jake was definitely head over heals for your cold personality, and he wasn't going to let anyone take you. but heres the problem: he couldn't find a single way to keep a conversation with you. despite your scary demeanour, jake decides to man up and does everything out of his will to get you.

fluff, jake x reader, (not proofread)

jake was frustrated to know that many guys have been after you the second you stepped in that classroom doing the bare minimum.

hearing ��wanna grab lunch with me?’ here and there somehow always made him ball his fist to prevent himself from being a problem. yet again he couldn’t blame other people for wanting to ask you out either. he even sometimes wished that you had rejected him so he could move on. although of course he didn’t really mean that.

because now he was wandering around the school looking for you while he was on a “bathroom break” during his soccer practice. he knew you always liked to stay at the school rooftops admiring the view while listening to music. not like he was stalking you or anything...

you turn your head to look at the person at the door "you again? when are you going to leave me alone? pervert" you scoff, kicking the little pieces of rocks as you avoid jakes eyes. it was almost the millionth time you've seen jake this day, and it was always for the same reason, to piss you off, well more like ask you out --which still pisses you off.

you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?

you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?

"hmmm maybe never?" jake chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes "then i'll move schools --countries if that's what takes for you to leave me alone" as you turn around and face him, eyes widened at the thin space between the both of you "and maybe i'll find you"

you raise your eyebrows "well that's borderline criminal act" you wander off "now sim jaeyun i think it's best for you to leave before you add up to my anger --i mean you already are. but wouldn't that be horrible?" jake's eyes follow you as you drag your feet "not really" he states "you're hot when you're mad"

you scoff out of disbelief, hitting him hard on his arm, looking away almost immediately as you trying to hide your heated face "shut up before i'll push you off this building" letting go of the grip you once had on his collar, "alright, alright sorry ma'am. but if you're really mad for whatever reason, come with me. i'll take you to a place" he suggests, offering his hand for you to take "you should be happy. i normally wouldn't even consider letting anyone know about my spot" he shoots you a grin

you take time trying to consider his offer, but as much as you don't want to stroke his ego about convincing you to go with him, you really needed something to release your anger "as long as you shut up about this" you give him a side glance "no promises" he sends a wink your way "ugh, fine"

he gently takes your hand as he drags you out of the school "can you jump over the wall?" jake looks at your flustered face "....no..?" you answer, making a line with your lips, causing him to let out a small chuckle "okay cutie, i'll help you up" you cringe at the nickname "call me that again and i'll break your neck" you step on his knee as he tries to boost you up "yeah that's right, keep going"

but as jake looks up he couldn't help but feel flustered, looking away "i made it!" you pant, hands resting on your knees as you wait for jake to come up as well. but after a few seconds of not hearing him, you call out his name, peaking your head over the wall "jake? i swear to god if you leave me out here i'm killing you"

"n-no i didn't leave you" he stutters, trying to collect himself from being a flustered mess "then come up here! the sun is setting, you wouldn't want to miss it"

"y-yeah it's just that i uh, i saw.....your....you know?" he explains, his hands not knowing what to do "you saw my what!?" you shrieked "no no it's okay i looked away!" he reassures you "ugh, just- just come up here!" you yell, already walking ahead as you try to cool down your heating face "so pink aye?" jake jokes, catching up to you

"SIM JAEYUN!" you yell, kicking him on his ass "ow! okay sorry!"

jake was resting his head on his hands, watching as you play with the small puddle while watching the sunset, not even an hour in, jake panics as he sees the amount of missed calls from riki "oh shit! my soccer practice!"

--

the following days after that, almost everything remained the same, jake continuously teasing and flirting with you, you getting in trouble for the littlest things, never coming home until the latest of the hour. but yet again, almost everything remained the same

you were now in denial of your feelings towards sim jaeyun. it would hurt too much of your pride to actually admit it, because after all, you've always told sim jaeyun you hated him.

you groan "jake, there's a reason why i'm failing english, okay? just accept the fact that i'm the worst" you bury your head on the pages of your book, seated across jake at the back of the library "i didn't even ask for you to help me! i simply just asked for your notes that just happened to have a first grader's hand writing" he scoffs, a little taken back by your sudden insult on his hand writing "thanks? i know you didn't ask for help, i just wanted to do this with you so that you don't get detention for not knowing proper english" he explains, handing you another sheet of paper with an 54 circled on the right corner "seriously y/n? 54? come on, one last set of questions and i'll take you to the new cafe just across the street"

and almost immediately, you bring your head up, grabbing the pen and taking the set of questions. making jake giggle "y/n, just say that you like me, you know i'm not going to reject you-- ow!" you smack him on the head with the pencil "that's absolute nonsense!" you whisper with a harsh voice, digging your face on the note book as you try to cover the little smile you had on your face

i think it was safe to say you got 4 out of 10 right, causing you to almost have a mental breakdown at the library "i can't do this sim" you groan "i think you just need a break yeah? wanna head to the cafe?" jake stands up to pack your stuff, giggling at the sight of your head still buried in between the pages of the book "c'mon y/n" he kneels beside you "get up, let's go to that cafe"

you've never felt your pride hurt as much as this did, having to show jake how bad your were at english, him having to tutor you without you asking for help, and jake bringing you to the cafe even though you weren't even remotely close to getting at least 6 right

and you weren't exaggerating when when you say jake had to drag you all the way to the cafe "hi! what can i get for you today sir?" the girl says, the obvious heart eyes she has for him pissing you off even more "hi yeah i'd like to have a caramel machiatto" he responds politely, smiling at the obvious glare you held at the girl, poking out your tongue after she was called by the manager, an old lady replaces her "anything else for your girlfriend--" before you could correct her, jake immediately speaks up "she'll have (drink)"

he smiles at the old lady before paying "i'm sending you money later whether you like it or not" you roll your eyes "and i'll send it back" he holds your waist as he leads you to a table, causing your heart to beat 10 times faster "yeah? well i'll send it back to you again! i'll keep doing it until you die!" he scoffs at you "as if!"

--

even after multiple attempts of trying to make jake ask you out, the boy who you thought was so smart couldn't take a single hint at all.

but in jake's defence, you were a little bad, considering how bad you were with boys, he vividly remembers that one time when you were trying so hard to make him jealous by talking to other guys. he even laughed as you struggled to keep up with a conversation.

or that other time when you tried to hold his hand just to do something romantic just for once but ended up letting go because he wouldn't stop teasing you about it. he still took your hand, yet he never asked you out still.

"you okay darling?" your mother asks, taking a quick glance at your droopy form leaning on the counter as you wait for her to finish cooking "is it a boy?" she teases, making you perk your head up "i knew it!" she gives you an endearing smile as she gives you a plate with eggs on it, a heart shaped ketchup placed on the top of the egg "mom!" you whine

"okay fine, it is a boy. but don't tell dad" you whisper, smiling once she zips her lips "what's his name?" she asked, tilting her head as she leans on the counter in front of you "jake"

"jake?! i love jake! you should invite him over sometime" she squeals "he's a nice guy, i'm sure he wouldn't hurt you, so what's bothering you?" you sigh, taking a sip of the water "he likes me, it's like the whole world knows. but he just keeps on flirting with me and never actually tries to ask me out" you pout, aggressively taking a bit of the scrambled eggs, making your mother chuckle "oh baby, i'm sure it'll happen soon. just give him some time! unless if you're that impatient, then maybe you should try considering to be the one who makes the first move" she walks away, heading upstairs

no, as much as you hate it, that would hurt too much of your pride. so you decided to wait.

--

summer just had started and you couldn't even explain how much you hated the heat. staying under the shade 70% of the time whenever you went out with jake and his friends "guys! i have an announcement" jay yells, you were currently over at jay's house, just having a little party with just the 8 of you "my father booked us a trip to hawaii"

"WHAT?!"

part 2

— HEY 👵🏽 so i decided that this would be a multiple part story bcs i didnt want it to be too long!

i haven’t written the second part yet, but hopefully i’d have it done before tuesday

feel free to ask if you want to be tagged once the second chapter is out!

this has been n1k1tty! see ya!

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

In Hiding

Heyo friendos! It's me, Cay. This reader insert wasn't a request; it was more or less indulgent. I'm still taking requests, though, so please send them in! I'm thinking about making this a series; please leave a note if you're interested in seeing more! This was also written in the 2nd person. One last tidbit: I’d recommend listening to the songs mentioned in the story for effect, your choice tho!

Word count: 1029

Main pairings: Avengers x enhanced!fem!reader, and later on may change.

Synopsis: Reader is a shapeshifter, capable of almost anything. They've been running from Hydra, The Avengers, and the Government. What happens when the Avengers find the reader?

Warnings: Like 1 swear word, angst, fluff and more cursing in next chapters, really un-graphic violence

——————————

You had been hiding from everyone: the Avengers, HYDRA, and the Government. You were one of the last enhanced persons that hadn't been killed, captured, or recruited by the Avengers.

You were hiding out in a small flat in New York City. In it, you had the bare minimum, a couch, a laptop, a hot plate, and clothes for a week. Thanks to your powers, you didn't need much more. Being a shapeshifter, you could do almost anything, turn into anyone.

Lately, you'd been using your powers to shift into avengers and use their powers to your benefit.

See, the way that you worked was that when you shifted into a person, object, or animal, you gained their strength, appearance, and abilities. This came in handy when you needed to get food, you'd turn into a cute puppy and beg people, or you'd steal using Wanda's telekinesis.

Your hair and eyes were naturally bright blue, a result of your powers. When you shifted into anything with hair or eyes, it was also blue. When you shifted into an object, its surface was blue.

After a month or so of hiding in New York, you decided it was time to step up your game. You began planning bank heists and hacking into government files to completely remove yourself from the system. You were one of the greatest minds and most powerful beings the world would ever know, but no one knew of you.

After your first successful bank heist, you’d been noticed by the police. Watching the security footage from your theft, they became confused. Who was this teenaged girl already pulling bank robberies? Dumbfounded, the authorities decided they needed help from higher up. Dealing with enhanced individuals was tricky, and the most experienced would be the Avengers. The police sent the security footage, and now you were a wanted woman.

———————–——–

It had been three weeks, and you had a steady income. You'd been doing low-profile jobs for gangs, running drugs, and still robbing banks. Life was good. You were never hungry, you had clothes on your back, and the gangs you did jobs offered protection.

Back at your apartment after a particularly lengthy job, you decided to turn on music and take a nap.

Walking in and collapsing on your couch, you shifted into a cat to become more comfortable. Little did you know, someone had snuck into your apartment and was hiding behind your sofa.

The intruder jumped up in an attempt to grab you, but your keen feline senses alerted you. You jumped up, quickly shifting to your human form.

Tackling him, you took notice of his appearance. The intruder was… Spiderman? What was a hero doing breaking into your house?

“Hey!” He yelled, struggling under your knee, trapping him to the ground.

Eyes glowing blue and growling, you shifted into a blue wolf. Your appearance frightened the Spiderman, and he whimpered.

“Please don’t rip my head off!” He begged.

Your face contorted, and you sighed. Releasing the boy from your grip, you pushed him away. After standing and staring for a few seconds, you shifted into your human form and waved your hand, telling him to leave. He took the clue and ran out of your apartment and onto the fire escape. You watched him swing away.

You needed to leave. Now. The Avengers knew of you and your antics, or they wouldn't have sent anyone to try and capture you.

Quickly as you could, you packed up anything you could carry, but you were tired, and as a consequence, you were slow.

After ten minutes, you heard talking from outside.

“Here, kid?” Whispered a man.

“Yeah, here. She's a shapeshifter! Isn’t that cool, Mr. Stark?” Whispered an over-excited boy.

You recognized his voice quickly; it was Spiderman. And Mr. Stark? Like Tony Stark? The iron man was after you too!

“Pipe down underoos! They probably heard us!” Whisper-yelled Tony.

“S-s-sorry, Mr. Stark.” The boy stuttered.

“What's the plan?” A gravelly voice asked.

“Well, we don't want to kill her, and she's supposedly powerful, so I'm thinking sedation?” Another voice announces.

Sedation? They didn't have a plan. Sighing, you shifted into a blue iron man suit in hopes of confusing them. You sat on your sofa and waited patiently for them to enter. You motioned to your self-built speaker, which was motion activated. It began blasting bass boosted Frank Ocean.

Conversation on your fire escape went silent.

“They know we’re here. Shit.” Said a feminine voice.

“What now?” Asked Spiderman.

“We attack.” Said another voice before seven Avengers swiftly entered your apartment.

You grinned. This was going to be easy. They had sent Spiderman, Iron man, Captain America, Black Widow, The Winter Soldier, Vision, and, for some reason, Loki.

They all cocked their heads upon seeing the iron man suit on the couch.

“Uh- Tony? This yours?” Asked Captain America.

“Nope,” Tony says, confused.

You stand up, turn to the Avengers, and motion to your speaker to start playing your “fight playlist” because you knew someone would come for you eventually. “Wow.” by Post Malone, bass boosted, began blasting.

Grinning, you created clones of yourself, shifting them into the heroes standing in front of you. You stepped back, letting your clones have their fun.

——————————

After about 10 minutes of fighting, “Let Go” by Ark Patrol began playing. The trance-like feeling of the song drew you away from the fight. Your dustracted state gave Loki to create a clone of himself. Sneaking up behind you, he grabbed your neck and around your waist. His sudden movement and grip on your body paralyzed you, and your clones evaporated. The rest of the Avengers ran over to you and Loki. He must've been using magic, as you could no longer shift.

“Stop squirming.” He growled into your ear.

In return, you bit him. His clutch, however, was unwavering.

“I said to stop moving.” He hissed, his grip tightening.

He was choking you, and you were beginning to see stars. You lost and you'd been captured. The last thing saw before the world went black was the Avengers staring at you in awe and confusion.

Should I write a part 2? Maybe even make it into a longer series?

[arrogantsonofabiscuit]

Surprising them with hugs

A/n:- my first time writing KNB boys. Let’s see how it goes. I hope you enjoy! I was kinda shivering writing about Akashi (his eyes 🤌♥️)

Featuring:- Kise , Midorima, Aomine & Akashi .

Genre:- mentions of pet names! (Angst - fluff) , suggestive in Aomine’s part.

Kise Ryota:-

Kise was out doing his new project with the agency.

You were home alone again with nothing to do.

You decided to watch some tv but it looked boring because there weren’t any movies or series to watch. Even if there were you weren’t in a mood to watch them .

You just wanted to cuddle with Kise. Snuggle close with him and sleep till late afternoon.

But for the past few weeks you couldn’t because of his new project.

He was modelling for a sports company and they were quite strict with their rules.

So Kise couldn’t take a day off.

You were so busy thinking that you did not realise that it was past midnight and Kise opened the front door.

“Y/n-icchi?”

“Ryota, you are here! You are early today ! I mean tonight!”

“Baby it’s past midnight, I come home by midnight itself so I am kinda late. Why are you awake?”

“Do you really think asking me why am I awake is gonna help you? Huh? Kise ? It’s been weeks since we did anything together. Don’t get me wrong I support you all the time. It’s just that sometimes it makes me wonder that how am I not saying anything to you. I am tired Kise . Is it selfish of me to ask for some affection from my boyfriend?”

“Ah I am sorry baby. But I hear some good news!”

“What is it?” You ask wiping your tears.

“I am having days off for about 2 days straight. I know it’s not too much , but I-“

You hugged kise before he could complete his sentence. He was shocked because generally in your relationship Kise used to ask for affection and not you.

You hugged him like that’s the only thing you needed. He smiled looking at you and he kissed your forehead.

“Yeah I know that you missed me , but this much? 🥺”

“Kise do you want me to stop ?😒”

“No no continue . Wait a second now jump a bit for me.”You jump a bit and kise holds your arms and takes your to your bedroom so that you could cuddle and fall asleep.

Midorima Shintaro:-

He was out practicing for the upcoming match.

He was practise his three pointers with Takao(😽)

You decided to surprise Midorima by coming to his club room and picking him up.

You drove by the parking lot, parking your car.

You tiptoed once you were close to the club room. You heard Takao talking to Midorima about something.

Since Midorima never talked about relationship and all you wanted to know what they were talking about so you were eavesdropping.

“Shin-Chan , you never hugged them ? Like you never initiated it by yourself? 🙀” (I don’t know why but whenever I look at takao i always think he resembles a cat 😺)

“Takao, I don’t know how to, if I do then what if they doesn’t like it?And they initiated it anyways . But it makes me worried that do they think that I may not be the one for them? I-“

“Shin?”

Midorima whipped his head so fast that it would make tenya iida mad . (Basically the flash of my hero academia 😹)

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Midorima’s face was beet red and Takao was standing there like 😺—>😹.

“Takao-kun, how are you? It’s been ages!”

“Y/n-Chan I am good , I am just packing stuff up . I have to hurry . Bye~😽.”

“Shin, you don’t need to worry. I will always support you and respect you no matter what. Also I am only worried about the fact that you maybe overworking yourself. Please don’t do that! Also you are the one for me . Nobody can be like my Shin you know😉” you place your hand on his firm chest and lean on it hugging him.

“Y/n what are you doing! Takao can come back anytime soon” Midorima tried keeping a straight face but he couldn’t because you were finally in his arms.

Midorima won’t be able to express well , but he definitely loves his s/o and would do anything for them.

Aomine Daiki:-

I swear to god his aura itself is so intimidating for me shit.

Anyways....

You were on your desk chair studying for your exams whereas, Aomine was on the bed with a magazine in his hands (you know which one you know 😏)

Ahem~

“Y/n you done? I am getting bored rn, let’s do something”

“Daiki, let me complete the last three pages then I am all yours okay?”

“Hmm, can’t wait”

After an hour you completed studying and reviewing. You got up from the chair to sit next to Aomine.

Aomine who fell asleep on the bed with the magazine on his head.

You were sleep as well listening to his light snores. You plopped down next to him , making minimum noise.

You wrap your arm around his neck and snuggle against his chest.

Aomine is a tease he is . He peeked from the magazine to see you being so cozy against him. He threw the book away and kissed you on your forehead.

“Daiki, you were awake?”

“Hmm, for a long time.”

You smile and kiss him on his lips and tighten your arms around him.

He was never used to your hugs but he liked them anyways. But would he tell you? No never 👎.

He brings you closer to him leaving no space between you guys.

“I was bored of the magazine and wanted to see the r-“

“Shut up 😒”

“Make me”

Forget about your sleep rn.

Akashi Seijuro:-

Emperor 🧎‍♀️.

Akashi was watching some basketball videos because he wanted to see the mistakes made by him and his teammates in their previous match.

You were on the couch scrolling through your Instagram reels.

You were bored, but you knew how Akashi was. He never wants anyone to disturb him when he watches the gameplays.

But you were bored, needy for your boyfriends love. Also you did not want to sound clingy. So you kept your mouth shut for about 10 minutes (that’s my patience)

“Seijuro, um could I-“

“Come sit on my lap”

“Okay” you went back to your couch , but you jolted once you realised what Akashi said.

He said to come and sit on his lap. HIS LAP!

Paniccccccccc ahem~

“So?”

“Yeah I am coming Seijuro”

You get cozy in his lap placing your head on his broad shoulders . He rubbed gentle circles on your back which lulled you to sleep. But you tried to keep your eyes open.

You wrap your arms around his waist tightening your grip like he is the only thing keeping you in place. You knew that Akashi was not used to your hugs and affection in general but the best part was that he always realised whenever you needed them.

He smiled looking down at you .

He holds you against him and places a kiss on your head. He was talking about something but you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

After a while Akashi was done watching, he puts you down on the bed with him and he falls asleep cuddling with you.

Thanks for reading! Take care <3

Reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[sluttyminghao]

Part 1/?

✧ pairing: wen junhui x gender neutral!reader ✧ word count: 2k ✧ genre: smut ✧ warnings in this chapter: camboy!jun, masturbation, masturbating on camera, camboy!minghao makes an appearance ✧notes for this chapter: reader only makes an appearance at the end of the installment, i hope it makes sense as you read it! ✧ a/n: you asked, and i delivered! this is the first installment of going live! a series about camboy jun and his adventures! i hope you all enjoy, and if you would like to be added to a taglist pls inbox me! feedback is appreciated! ✧ synopsis: he’s a shy college boy who is stuck in financial difficulty, and his best friends gives him a suggestion that may or may not be a good idea.

A slight glance at the clock on his nightstand indicated that it was 10:49 pm, and he knew that within a matter of minutes he’d be doing the exact thing he said he would never do. His palms had grown sweaty and he felt his heart rate quicken at the thought, and all he could think to do was wipe his palms on his sweats. He remembers the conversation he had about his thoughts with Minghao vividly, even though it had happened months before his current situation.

“I just don’t see how you can do it, how do you not get embarrassed? Aren’t you being watched by...god knows how many people?” Junhui spoke between mouthfuls of ramen, immense heat rising in his cheeks at the nature of the conversation that had come up when talking about Junhui’s increasing level of financial difficulties. Minghao raised a brow at the older, before erupting into a fit of giggles and making Junhui cock one of his brows in confusion. Did he say something funny?

“Why would I be embarrassed about my livelihood?” Minghao began, wrapping some noodles around his chopsticks expertly and blowing them lightly to cool them down. “I make so much profit off of doing camming and making videos, that I’ve been able to pay my rent and amenities for the next six months, as well as keeping on top of all my art school debts,” he continued, an amused smirk finding its way onto his face at Junhui’s shocked facial features.

“Six months? That’s crazy... I’m basically living paycheck to paycheck at the minute,” he mumbled and let out a small sigh, picking at the small pieces of meat left within his ramen bowl with his chopsticks. “Well, that’s kinda what you get for working at a small and dingy diner run by a bunch of college students,” Minghao quipped while giving him a pointed look, letting his napkin fall to the table to signify he had finished his meal.

Junhui sighed. He knew Minghao was right, 99% of the time he generally was, but this was one thing he really didn’t want to admit to him. “But...would people recognise me? That’s one thing I really don’t want,” Junhui spoke shyly, and Minghao’s face softened towards his elder, before shaking his head slightly. “You can use blurring filters or wear items on your face so people won’t recognise you, that’s what I do, and no one knows who I am to this day.”

He thought a little more about it, and Minghao could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, deciding to offer a piece of advice to his struggling long-time friend. “Hey,” he spoke, gaining Junhui’s attention, “you should really think about it, especially if you need the money. With a face and a body like yours, I’m sure you’ll have thousands of subscribers in no time.”

Well, what did he have to lose? He sure didn’t have any shreds of dignity left, may as well give it a shot.

In all his years of living, he had been very well off financially, but in recent months his rent had become increasingly more expensive and the cost of living had jumped up exponentially. To his dismay, he found himself without a choice, needing the money as soon as possible so he would still have a roof over his head and the bare minimum of food. 

He had been staring at the webpage for the camming website for the past 45 minutes, trying to hype himself up, but he had just become increasingly nervous as the time had passed. Minghao had explained to him countless times that this website was very reputable and a great starting point for beginners going into camming, and he knew that he could trust the words of his younger friend.

But even still, the nerves would not stop pouring over him, almost acting like a cascading effect, flowing down his back like a waterfall and seeping into every crevice of his body.

He sucked in a breath before exhaling shakily and picking up his phone to call Minghao. He knew that if anyone was able to calm his nerves, it would be his long-time friend. He tapped on Minghao’s contact before placing the phone to his ear, listening to the phone ring a few times before he was met with Minghao’s groggy voice.

“Were you sleeping?” Junhui’s voice is quiet as he speaks into the receiver, awaiting his companion’s response even though he was almost sure he knew the answer already. “No, I was out feeding the ducks, of course, I was sleeping,” Minghao sighed sarcastically, and Junhui suddenly felt a pang of guilt for the late-night call to his friend. “What did you need, ‘Hui?” Minghao continued, sleep laced in his voice.

“I’m sorry for waking you up...I’m so nervous...I don’t even know how to start the camming videos…do you have any...pointers, maybe...” Junhui trailed off, and he could hear Minghao hum from the other end of the phone. He remained silent for a few beats, only further amplifying Junhui’s nerves to the point where his leg had begun to bounce incessantly.

“I think you just need to relax a little, maybe have a drink or two to settle your nerves,” he replied smoothly, wanting to end the conversation so that he could get back to sleep. “If you’re really worried, why don’t you just show everything from the neck down when you’re recording?” He continued, waiting for his older friend’s reply.

Junhui was contemplating the options laid out to him and decided to combine both, deciding he didn’t have anything to lose. “Thanks, Hao, I owe you,” he rushed, hanging up and throwing his phone on his desk and standing up to get himself a bottle of alcohol. He assured himself that he was only going to have a few sips to loosen himself up, but he figured that he may need to down the whole bottle by the night’s end.

A few swigs of his precious alcohol later, and he had finally built up the courage to remove his shirt but left his sweats on as a safety measure. Minghao was right, the alcohol definitely loosened him up, and before he had even realised what he was doing, he had pressed the record button and had started his live stream.

He didn’t know what he was doing, not a single clue. His mind was fuzzy and his last shreds of dignity left him the moment his pants were pulled down and thrown haphazardly to the side. The only thought that was now running rampant through his mind was how much he wanted to cum. He wasn’t even focused on the live video anymore, only focused on his hardening cock and the way his hand wrapped around it.

Normally when he got himself off, he would take his time and relish in the sensations, not wanting to rush. In his nervous and alcohol-fueled state, however, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush like he would if he was sober. His hand moved up and down the length of his cock rapidly, small whimpers eliciting from the man’s lips as he pleasured himself.

Junhui could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge the faster he pumped his cock, but he knew he didn’t want to cum just yet. He slowed his hand significantly to a steady pace, almost feather-like touches, and moved his free hand up to flick at his nipple, sighing at the sensation. 

Not that he would ever admit to anyone, but his nipples had always been extra sensitive and even just the slightest feather touch would have him reeling and wanting more.

The whines poured endlessly from his mouth, even as he built up his orgasm for a second time. He kept one hand on his cock, pumping up and down swiftly and gaining speed, while the other pinched at his nipples. It was getting harder for him to hold himself back, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the position he was in.

Before he could even think about stopping himself from cumming again, he felt the string snap in his abdomen and felt the hot streaks of white land on his stomach. He gasped at the feeling and let his hand continue to move steadily, letting the white streaks hit his chest. His head had grown fuzzy from the sheer intensity of his orgasm, and he could feel his hips lightly bucking up into his still closed fist.

When he was sure his orgasm had ebbed away, he removed his hand from his softening cock and sighed, leaning back in his computer chair. After a moment of stillness, his eyes widened upon seeing the small red recording dot on his computer, reminding him of the act he had just performed.

He clicked the stop button hurriedly and closed all his tabs before slamming the lid of his laptop shut. He couldn’t believe what he had just done; his mind was whirring with a thousand and one thoughts, his heart was about to leap right out of his chest, and he knew that there was no going back from the acts he had just performed.

He pushed himself out of the chair and headed towards his bathroom, showering in an attempt to get the cum off his body and somehow trying to scrub off the gross feeling he had from his lewd behaviour. It wouldn’t come off that easily, however, so all he could do was face the consequences of his actions and own them as Minghao told him to.

After a hot shower and a whole lot of contemplation later, Junhui knew that he would have to use his laptop again and see the damage that he had caused, so he decided to simply bite the bullet and take a look back at his video and see if anyone had commented or liked it. It didn’t seem likely in his opinion, since it was his first video and he had no subscribers, but there was a small glimmer of hope buried deep within him.

His eyes widened at the results in front of him. He truly could not believe the sight he saw when he clicked back on to his video to check for feedback.

200 new subscribers, 800 stars and 27 comments

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was all a hallucination. How could this be? He only sat in front of his computer for roughly 10 minutes jacking himself off and had garnered a huge response to it. He clicked the refresh button, thinking that it was simply a mistake on the website’s part. Surely he, a newbie to camming, did not just rack up over a thousand notifications from a ten-minute video.

When the page refreshed he saw the same notifications, except for one new comment that had caught his attention. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to look at just one comment and then head to bed, so he let his mouse hover over the little star-shaped notification icon and pressed on it. His eyes moved across the screen quickly, and he couldn’t help but feel the heat rise to his cheeks at the comment he had seen.

angelbaby96: you’ve got such a nice cock, and such pretty noises too. I would love to hear more of them sometime <3

[jay-and-dean]

Don’t look down, Baby   Part 1/3

Dean x reader

Summary :  Dean told her to ignore the “thing” between them and to jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but him.

When we think of a guy our Y/n could be with, longing for Dean, it’s usually a nice dude, a little boring, right ? Because who can compete with Dean ? Now, what if this guy was as badass as Dean ?

Characters : Dean Winchesters, Sam Winchester, Reader, Abraham Hale (OC)

Warnings : Angst, jealous Dean, Smut (unprotected sex -you’re smarter than this !-, oral, also kinda lame sex if it’s a warning), cheating, swearing, smoking, drinking... More warnings in the second part.

Wordcount : 6k (yes, just the part one... now you get why I cut it.)

Note : So for the Aestetic, I used the face of Jax Teller from Sons Of Anarchy, and you have to know, even if Abraham Hale looks like him, he is totally an OC.

This is writen both in Reader and Dean’s Pov. Dean’s thought are in italic. 

Text divider by the talented @talesmaniac89​

Jay’s Masterlist

September 16, 10:33pm

 Dean’s POV

           I always thought that when Y/n finds a guy, it would be the perfect douche I wanted for her. Some nice dude named Robert, a cop maybe, or a realtor with a friendly family.

           He would annoy me to death with his stories about growing up in a farm, and call her Pumpkin. He would worry a little when she goes out with us because he thinks we drink too much when we’re together.

           He would tear her from me and I would hate him for that. She would skip a hunt to meet his parents, another to spend a few days in the cabin he rented… But even if it breaks my heart, it would be exactly what I want for her, so I would let her go.

           I had it all planned.

           But, of course, she didn’t play by the rules.

           And that guy is no Robert…

           His loud manly laugh tears me from my thoughts. His tattooed hand wraps around his whiskey glass and I turn my head to that waitress that always gives me warm smiles, she’s staring at him now, with the sweetness that was once for me.

           Abe.

           Ex-gang member, Abe. Bad guy turned good. Raised by the widow of a gang member, in a violent environment, he already had a criminal record at fourteen, started selling guns before he was officially allowed to drink, ended up in prison at Twenty-two.

Sweet smile Abe. Reformed bad boy with an attitude. Became a hunter after he met a vampire gang and slew them to the last. Now defender of the good citizen, he found his fight, and the hunters talk about him as one of the bests.

Afraid of nothing and ready to fight, charismatic, alpha Abe. His muscular arm in the back of my girl, his long blond hair falling on his face when he lights up a cigarette in a grunt of content while she touches his neck.

Abe. My new nemesis.

“So Dean” he says with his deep voice hoarse from smoking too much. “How did you meet my girl ?”

I met her on a hunt, invited her to my room and took her on that wall. Do you remember, Y/n ? Don’t look down baby, look at me.

“On a hunt.”

“That’s how I met her too” he smiles and kisses her temple. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”

“Looks like we do” I state.

           Her eyes darken and she turns her head, I know how to read her, she is pissed, and I don’t even know why. I did nothing, I said nothing, and her rock-and-roll version of prince charming is worshiping her, so what causes that bitterness ?

What is it, baby ? Am I missing something ?

“So I heard your brother and you have this fucking palace ?” he gives me a corner smile, smoke coming out of his nose.

“Who told you that ?” I grunt.

What is the point of a secret bunker if it is as secret as a freaking tweet ?

           He chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey, not answering.

           Abe never answers all the questions he is asked, maybe it is some cool thing for guys like him, maybe it is his way of look mysterious or powerful. What is sure is, as annoying as it is, it freaking works. But each time he smirks with his eyes lost in the bottom of his glass in a little huff instead of speaking, I get closer to losing it and smashing his pretty face on the table.

“I told him” she says almost coldly. “Like you did all your friends, Abe is my boyfriend, Dean.”

I nod. What can I say, she’s right after all. She’s always right…

           She was right about that cop being the bad guy the first time we hunted together, right about the fact that my so-called bond with Amara would fade the second she gets whatever she wanted. She was right about Jack being a good kid but dangerous enough to need to be watched and educated instead of pushed away. Right about Mary hurting me more than I admitted…

She was right when she said I was wrong. The day I told her we shouldn’t sleep together again, that she should just ignore that thing between us and jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but me…

I really say that : any of them. I did.

Did you choose Abe just to annoy me, baby ? To prove a point ? You had to bring a guy who would beat me at my own grumpy-loner-badass-crap-drink-too-much game, right ?

“That place sounds sure awesome, because Y/n keeps coming back to it” he states, not letting me know the true meaning he puts in that sentence, his piercing blue eyes free of any emotions on the surface.

“Well it’s home for her” I say, and that bastard chuckles. “Is it funny ?”

“Not at all !” he says with a warm and kind laugh, and a friendly tap on my shoulder. “You should relax Dean, you look like the bar is full of demons !”

I stay stern, I know I should probably look friendly, but I rarely hated someone nice that much.

           He gets up and kisses her head before he walks away, his manly way to move catching women’s attention, and some men’s too. One of his hand goes through his blond hair while he walks to the bathroom with the other hand deep in his jeans’ pocket.

“So… Abe, huh ?” I ask, the second he’s gone.

           I should be more coherent, I know. I want her gone, but I want her for me. I was sure I was ready to see her with someone else, it’s been three years. Three years ! After we only made love six times. She is not mine, she never was.

And I thought calling her Baby in my head would make me strong. It’s a weird feeling, like I could let her be happy, but still feel special. I would have been the passion of her youth, the one that died young and of which she would think a little when she rocks her baby in her pretty house…

I had somehow romanticized my heartbreak.

But that doesn’t feel romantic at all. And all I can think of is that he is passion too, I’m not dead, and I just have to see him touch her and imagine them at night…

“Yes” she says, still with that bitterness in her voice. “You could make an effort, Dean. He has been nothing but nice, and you act like he’s an enemy.”

“I haven’t decided if he is one yet.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval.

I recognize hurt. My Y/n, when she’s hurt, she gets angry. Always. And I made her angry so often. Her irritation is growing, I can see it in her burning eyes.

“You can’t do that” she says low. “You can’t treat him like that, no one gives you the right.”

“And him ?” I dare asking, staring at her reddened face. “Does he treat you right ?”

Her eyes fills with tears again and her jaw clenches.

“Better than you did, you mean ?” her words feel like a stab in my heart.

 Reader’s POV

           I didn’t want to say that, it came out by itself.

           I’m thin-skinned lately. I feel like I could cry or scream any moment, all the time. My emotions have always been loud, my sensibility overwhelming, but for a few weeks I’m drowning.

           The fact that I decided to try to get over Dean Winchester probably caused that.

A long time ago, I thought living with Dean without ever having him would be the worst, then I saw him with other women and was convinced I was mistaking before : the worst was definitely that. How wrong was I ?

           The worst is having had him. Not once, but several times, each time a little more intimate. More kisses, more touches, more suspended seconds watching in each other’s eyes… Until we spent that night together, that last night, and he fell asleep against me for the first time.

           It was over. It was too much for Dean, and not enough for me.

           Dean Winchester can’t belong to anyone, not again. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend, and he doesn’t want me to be his girl ; who am I to insist ?

“Well, that’s a minimum” he answers in a soft groan after a little while, and my heart breaks because I just did what I swore I would never do : Reproach him for any of it.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, thinking of those weeks after the last night, when I had to hide the worst pain I ever felt because I didn’t want him to feel bad about not wanting me.

I still do... -feel that pain and try to hide- because Abe or not, I still live with Dean and he doesn’t deserve to carry my pain on top of the world on his shoulders.

“Can you at least try ?” I beg, low, seeing my boyfriend getting out of the restroom but stopping next to the door to talk to someone he obviously knows.

“Yes” Dean answers. “I’m just… He’s a hunter and…”

“He’s a good man” I assure him, looking at Abe walking toward us above Dean’s shoulder. “He comes from a dark place, like us, but he is a good man.”

 September 21, 08:12pm

 “That place is crazy !” Abe says, sitting at the table of the library. “I have never seen anything like this.”

           While Sam tells him a little more about the bunker, I look at my boyfriend.

           I stare at him, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable impression, that feeling screaming that he doesn’t belong here ; because if he doesn’t belong in the bunker, then he probably just has nothing to do in my life.

           A lot of memories cross my mind, like it happens a lot lately.

The memory of entering the bunker for the first time and deeply knowing that, as long as I am welcome here, this would be my home. Because it just feels right and because, even if I’m not the granddaughter of Henri Winchester, he trusted me with this place, as much as he trusted his family. That man actually welcomed me like Mary never really did, like I was just as legit as blood.

At his frank smile, the memory of meeting Abe crosses me too. I was alone in this hunter bar, trying to get information for a case. I hadn’t told Sam and Dean that I would go there, because I know how much uncomfortable the hunter community makes them. And I was introduced to him : Abraham Hale. I found him so beautiful, with his mischievous smile that seemed to mock the entire world, his wheat blond hair and his tattoos. Something felt so safe about him, not because he looked like a bad boy, but because he was light and happy, laughing at everything and taking nothing seriously… All that Dean wasn’t.

I loved his wild energy right away. Abe was like the drums in a rock song, like summer wind. In his arms, I forgot about Dean for a few seconds a day during the first weeks. We spent days sleeping and having sex behind the curtains of that motel room, hiding from summer heat, and nights drinking and listen to rock music...

But now I look at him, his bright blue eyes seem pale next to the deep green looking back, and his beauty is bland.

“Thank you for showing me your home, Treasure” he says, putting a tender hand on my back like he always does.

And my eyes cross Dean’s.

           I know what he’s thinking, he’s cringing at the nickname, and that reminds me why I am with Abe : Dean never gave me a nickname, he never called me anything else than my name, he will never and even when others do, he thinks it’s lame and cheesy.

 Dean’s POV

           That hurt on her face again.

Baby, you can’t look at me like that each time he calls you Treasure . I don’t like it, but you’re supposed to do.

           This is much harder than I thought, and I was aware it would be impossible.

           Each and every one of his actions makes me face my own contradictions : The more loving he is, the more I want to push him away from her. But the more she seems distant and to have her head in the clouds, the more it eases the pain. Am I selfish enough to hate her happiness even though I love her ?

           I was in control, during those three years not touching her, my heart was aching with craving and my soul was screaming at me to make her love me. But as much as the heartbreak was constant, I had chosen it. I was in control.

           I never realize that it was only bearable because she was still here, my partner, my best friend, my roommate. Mine.

           Now she took it back. She raised her middle finger right in my face and decided she wouldn’t be mine anymore.

And that is a whole new level of pain.

           I don’t sleep when she’s not home, and sometimes food just won’t let me eat it. She texts during our movie nights and wears that pendant he gave her. I hate that pendant because it reminds me I never gave her a present. Not once in all those years.

“Another drink ?” Y/n asks him with the bottle in her hand.

“Don’t you drive ?” I cut him before he answers and I see her eyes shoot me with imaginary bullets.

I’m sorry Baby but it’s movie night tonight, can’t he just leave already ?

“He’s right” she says giving me a little hope that she will ask him to leave soon. “You should stay for the night.”

My breathing gets stuck in my lungs.

No Baby, don’t do that to me. Please.

“With pleasure !” he smiles.

 September 21, 11:49pm

 Reader’s Pov

           He grabs my thigh to lift it a little and grunt in my ear. His kisses are hot on my neck, his heavy body moving cautiously on top of me.

           My eyes are on the ceiling, my hands on his sweaty muscular back and I wait.

           Damn, what is happening ? He’s close, I am going to fake it ? I swore I would never fake, I swore if the guy can’t get me there, he should know, but… Abe is not the problem, I am.

           I just watch the ceiling wondering what is wrong with me. He did everything right, nice foreplays and those love words he always has for me. But nothing seems to turn me on anymore, and without the need and the pleasure, his thrusts are just uncomfortable and I feel weird.

           Come already.

           I sigh. I know what is making this impossible. Dean. This fucker is the last I had in my own bed, the only one in fact. And everything reminds me that Abe is not Dean fucking Winchester !

“You okay Treasure ?” he pants in my ear, nibbling at it.

I’m not a freaking snack, what is it with his mouth and teeth always ?

“Yes” I fake a moan. “I’m close Abe, come.”

Just don’t be loud, that would be so awkward.

           When he loses rhythm, I close my eyes at the relief, it won’t be long now, make it stop. He shakes a little and grunt loud, filling the condom inside of me ; and, to make my fake moans credible, I clench my walls around him one time or two, rolling my eyes at his proud groan.

           Sex with Abe used to be so much more than this. I'm getting frustrated. Did I break something in me ? Why can't I enjoy anything anymore ?

           He rolls on my side, panting, and smiles tenderly at me. He’s beautiful, I have to admit that, and he’s nice and loving.

“You’re amazing” he hums. “I guess I can’t smoke in your bedroom ?”

“I don’t mind” I answer sincerely. “The air co is magical, just, don’t smoke more than one.”

           He sits on the bed to get his pants, his beautiful tattooed back on me. The smoke flies in pretty wreath. I put my hand on the lion tattooed on his back. It suits him, with his solar attitude and his confidence, his beautiful blond hair…

           Yet I keep longing for my wolf.

 Dean’s Pov

           Now I know I could kill him. And now I know what the limit amount of pain I can take is.

           I pace my room like a crazy man. He is taking her, my Baby. He is sinking inside of her and stealing pleasure. Does she wrap her legs around him like she always did with me ? To push me deeper. Is she as responsive ? As lost in pleasure as she was ? With that way only she has too beg for more with her entire body, voice strangled and arms caging me the best she can…

           Is she…

“F-fuck…” I whine, holding my heart.

I think I just felt it break.

Baby…

Breathing is painful now, I feel like I’m drowning.

Baby… Why did you have to do that to me ? I know I hurt you but your revenge is unbearable.

I sit on my bed, still holding my chest.

I can’t take it, you know.

“Shit” I grunt.

How can this kind of familiar panic attack be back ? How can this hurt so much ? It’s not Hell, it’s not Purgatory…

“It is Hell” I say out loud.

Loosing you, Baby. It’s Hell. Do you love him ? Because…

“Fuck, I love her” I whine.

 September 28, 06:05pm

             Sitting in my “Fortress of Deanitude”, I wait. The tray with snacks is there, beers too, and Netflix is ready for our next episode of Stanger Things.

           But there is a big chance she won’t come. Our movie nights are getting rarer and rarer, like our time together in general. And this place is slowly becoming a Fortress of Solitude…

           You never know how much you need something until you lost it, right ? I was stupid enough to think I could be stronger than the need for her and now look at me, alone in that big empty room in a bigger emptier bunker.

           All I can think of is how much each day pulls her closer to him and further from me. They are building memories in which I’m not, they are building an intimacy that I lost three years ago. She will forget me and he will have her, maybe even make her change a little, until one day she is among those people who talk about their personal tastes by saying “we”. “We prefer red wine”.

           Ew.

           Is he going to change my girl, for real ? Make her love Led Zeppelin a little less, make her a little less her, make her want other things, another life, need me less ? Our things will become unimportant and be replaced by all kind of other things I have no idea about.

           I take a long sip of my glass. It’s not like I had my word to say anyway. I lost her. I lost her in the worst way possible : willingly.

           But just when I’m about to get up and go put the snacks away, she opens the door, panting a little, like she had ran.

“Dean” she says entering the room. “I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road and the traffic was disturbed.”

You were at his place, Baby, and you ran to me ?

A little smile lights up my face when her presence revive my heart.

“It’s okay” I say.

“I’m late, but I have…” she takes her hand out of her purse. “Giant skittles !”

“You found them ?” I smile, sitting straighter when she hands me a bag.

Our things are not all gone. And she still cares about me and about our time together.

“Yup ! I made Abe stop in every shop yesterday.”

So you think of me when you’re with him, Baby ? Have you ever thought of me while he was inside of you ?

“Sit” I pat the armchair next to mine. “Let’s find out if Dusty’s girlfriend exists !”

“I really hope !” she exclaims, taking off her jacket.

I try not to look at her, but when she quickly takes off her jeans to slip in her pajamas pants, I swallow hard. Those thighs could have been for me, and I could have watched the show while holding her.

           She sits with her knees up against her chest in the big chair next to me, and takes a beer. My eyes are glued to her, looking for anything unusual, and fearing it more than anything in the same time.

“What ?” she calls me out of my thoughts.

“Nothing, I…” have no idea how to finish this sentence.

“I’m still okay you know ?” she says without looking at me, playing with the label of her beer bottle. “You always stare at me like something had happened to me. I know what you think of Abraham, but he doesn’t treat me bad.”

 Reader’s Pov

“I’m sorry” he sighs. “You know how protective I can get. Especially with you…”

A chuckle escapes me and I know he doesn’t like it, but protective with me ? He broke my heart. He ripped it and threw it on the floor because I had said those words.

“Yeah…” I nod, nibbling at my lip. “You won’t find bruises on me.”

He doesn’t answer.

           When did we become like this ?

           After a silence, he hands me candies and presses play. But, chewing on sugar and my eyes on the screen, I keep my full attention on him.

           I have everything any girl would want : A lover with hot blood, beauty and a heart of gold. But I'm not any girl, and the only thing I want is Dean Winchester. The genius who thinks he's dumb, the scared little boy who lost his mom, the leader, the victim of his fate, the killer, the loyal friend, the rebel, the torturer, the perfect brother, the wary hunter, the crappy dancer ; grumpy Dean, childish Dean, stubborn Dean, all of Dean...

           I look at him and my eyes travel down his neck, his beard is fighting to grow back there but I know he won't let it. The slow movements of his chest are mesmerizing. My eyes go down, to his thighs and crotch...

           I really shouldn't let myself look there but his smell and aura are like a mermaid song and I'm drowning. His strength is radiating of him and I feel myself respond to it in everyone of my heartbeats.

           He could make me scream. He always did, so easily. Dean made me cry of pleasure more than once, sometimes without any effort, the brushes of his fingers, the burning of his kisses... And when he finally buried himself inside of me, it was like a firework in Heaven. He never had to do anything really special...

           And now I wonder : Is something broken about me ? Abe is passionate and loving, we used to work great, he was easy as whiskey. And he loves me. Why am I unable to enjoy any of it lately ?

           My eyes trace the bump in Dean’s pants and I remember the simple ecstasy of feeling his cock twitch for me. Dean... I bite my lip to hold back the moan hanging on my tongue. His thigh moves a little, strong muscles hidden in his jeans, and I think of his stomach contracting that time he came on my tongue. I…

“I see you” his deep serious voice hits the air like thunder.

I look up to meet his eyes and realize I have been staring at his crotch, licking my lips and probably visibly holding back moans.

“Do you need something ?” he asks with a proud aura on his face.

I want to punch that expression off of his perfect features.

           I look down and sigh. Yes, I do. I need him, not only want like I would like to think, but need indeed. I need him to feel my body, to make it alive, and to hear my soul breathe again.

“Dean…” I just say.

Like it was an answer or reproach but of course, he hears it for what it is.

           A call.

           So he gets up, suddenly so tall that he eclipses the TV, the light and my will. He comes in front of me, standing there, making me look up timidly through my lashes. His strong hand lands cautiously on my cheek, gently holding my face while I lean on his touch.

           I can resist him. I can.

           I think of Abe's sweet smile, of his deep voice and his arms around me. I think of this night he told me about jail and I tried all I could to make him feel safe again, that was a beautiful moment... We are something beautiful Abe and me. We are going to make it right, to make it count. Right ?

           As my heart fights itself, playing all the love songs I know at once in my head in a deafening dim of emotions, my eyes fill with tears. I know what is going to happen, and the cruel god writing my story can stop there, the end is already obvious.

           I can't resist Dean. I just can't.

           And Abe will cry, right ? He trusts me. He will take his bag and yell maybe, the sun inside of him will get clouded, he will drive away. Then I will let my body slide on the door frame, unable to hold my weight up, because I will have broken the only man that ever truly loved me.

           I look down to hide the pain from Dean, but he knows me better.

"I can leave" he says.

But it's the last thing I want because I miss him, I miss him like a part of me died years ago and I still feel empty and cold... I miss him when I'm alone, and even more when I'm not.

           When he's about to move, take a step back to leave me alone, I grab his belt and hold him in place firmly. I have no plan, no solid thought, but I know I can't be away from him for now. He smells both like the most familiar home and the wildest dream.

           My other hand grazes the fabric of his jeans on his thigh, I close my eyes for a second and a little whimper escapes me. I started touching Dean less than a day after meeting him, and it seems I can't be around him without having my hands on his body.

           He hums, staring down at me, bow legs slightly parted like he needed balance, like he was gripping the floor for both of us. Dean had always been my anchor. His shoulders look wider from down here and I want nothing more than letting my hands grab his butt to rub my cheek on his crotch like a cat marking its territory.

"Touch me like you need it, Baby" he murmurs and a little sob escapes me unexpectedly.

He never ever called me Baby.

           He never gave me any nickname like he never gave me the place I thought I could take in his heart. And Abe, he calls me Treasure. He welcomed me in his heart...

"What's wrong ?" Dean asks like he didn't know.

Dean Winchester is the world's greatest hero, saved basically everyone's life without any reward, and for this he is a saint ; and still, he's the one that is going to be the end of me. Hero or not, he's my villain.

"Everything is wrong, Dean" I answer in a broken voice. "Everything."

He squats in front of me and my hand panics at losing my grip on his belt so it grasps his flannel like my life depends on it.

"Not everything" he whispers, bending to let his poisonous lips graze my skin.

My treacherous mouth opens in reflex at the proximity of his, making him respond by biting my lower lip. I whimper again and pull him closer.

"I got you" he states, letting his burning lips trace down my chin and my neck followed by his thumb, scratching my skin with his short nail. And I catch fire.

I let my head falls back and I surrender totally.

           That's how bad he is for me : I could let him break my heart again without an hesitation, after it took me years to recover just enough to just function. And oh, I will. I will shatter the heart of the man that trusts me just to let Dean selfishly remind me how much I love him.

           His breath is burning my skin, spreading in the fabric of my t-shirt when he buries his face on my chest, opening his mouth wide to pretend to bite my breast, hand cupping my sides like he had missed me for real. I let go of the plaid fabric to grip the short strand of his hair like I can.

"Dean..." the moan I have been holding comes out, filling the room with sin and the echo of future lies.

"I got you" he repeats.

His hungry hands seize my jeans and tear it open, fighting the metallic button's resistance brutally. The fabric hurts my lower back in a last resistance but is ripped off of me the second after, taking my panties in its way.

           And before I can sit straighter now that I'm on the edge of the chair, before I can talk, think or breath. Dean's anaconda arms grab my thighs firmly and his burning breath is on my folds.

"Wh-" I start but what can I say now.

He kisses my folds like no men ever did : like he was in love with that part of me. An open mouth kiss, tongue eagerly lapping my juice from my entrance to my clit.

"AH !" I scream, arching my back but Dean doesn't take a second to breathe, burying his face on me.

I squirm, licking my lips like I was kissing him back but the place he is devouring can only respond with throbs and getting soaked, which is does.

           I'm panting, I'm being eaten by the flames of that indescribable pleasure that is back. My stomach is shaking, my temples are beating so loud. I suck a breath when he sucks at my clit, moist hand gripping the leather of the chair.

"Dean" I moan again in the subdued light of the warm room.

He answers with a hum, and his nimble tongue pushes at my entrance, making my thighs shake violently in the vise grip of his arms.

           I can't escape what Dean does to me so I let go.

           My whole body falls backward when I come, harder than I have in years, holding his hair so tight it might hurt him, legs shaken by electricity, back arching and chest fighting itself to breath. My sensible clit seems to have nerves in my whole body and I fall silent, covered in sweat, suffocated by a forbidden crushing orgasm.

           I whimper desperately, limp and lost, panting in the chair like I didn't realize yet what just hit me. But Dean knows what he's doing, he knows where this goes.

           He opens his jeans, I can feel it even though I don't see him, my head still back, moaning at the caresses of his tongue on my neck. I bite my lip hard, hand moving from the arm of the chair to his, to feel his eagerness.

           And he grabs my thighs harshly, making me fall on the floor with him and holds my back when I can't, keeping me against him.

"So wrong..." I whisper in a dying echo of my disgrace.

His hand grasps my face firmly and makes me look at him. His eyes have this fire in them, he clenches his jaw when I roll my lips a little, wetting his craved cock on me, dying of being finally filled by him.

"Keep your eyes on me" he groans, grabbing his length to guide it at my throbbing entrance.

"Dean..." I moan, fingers reaching his stomach under his clothes to feel it tremble.

"Eyes on me baby" he repeats low.

 Dean's Pov

           She can't think of him. Not now. I need her with me, I need her for me.

Feel me, baby.

           I smile slightly when she dives her unfocused pupils in my eyes. She's perfect and I love her ; but I must say when she seems to surrender so completely to my touch, that's when forgot why I asked her to stay away.

           When I enter her, her phone lights up once again in her back, on the floor. I groan loud as she wraps me like only she can, like she was trying to suck me inside her core. She's shaking, she's fighting to keep her eyes on me and I'm fighting that urge to grab her phone and shatter it in a million pieces against the wall.

           She gasps, her body threatening to fall back so I hold her.

That's it baby, stay with me, feel me, let me take you like I used to when you were mine.

My hand fists her hair and my mouth gets attracted to her pulse point so I bend to suck at it, barely thrusting for now, just enjoying to be inside of her, feeling her pulsating with desire, the concrete hard floor digging in my knees.

           Her arms wrap around me, she cling to me and I try to ignore my jealousy shouting at me.

Baby, you try to ignore me but can he do that to you ? Can he turn you into a purring cat like that ?

"Dean" she moans, clenching around me, her thighs trying to get herself even closer so she takes me impossibly deeper.

"Say you want me" I murmur against her skin in a voice I barely recognize.

"I want you" she gives in, exhaling in my ear.

           Behind her, her phone lights up one more time with a text : "I found us a case in California, Treasure."

=> PART 2

FEEDBACK IS GOLD

Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld  @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n  @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​ @i-love-superhero​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @stylesismyhubs​ @deanwanddamons​ @jawritter​ @peridottea91​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​ @vicmc624​ @teresa-67​ @jessie-michael​ @doctor-hp-mcu​ @hawkerz12​ @mariaenchanted​ @hobby27​

[peralta-guaranteed]

Hey! I have a fic/HC request - it's a bit specific - jake and Amy are on a date and they see a guy who went to the academy with Jake and worked with Amy at the 64 and when amy goes to the washroom he tries to make fun of her/says creepy stuff about het in front of Jake and he gets all angry and protective

“Gotta say I’m surprised.”

“About what?”

“That you got Santiago.”

Jake stares at Daniels over the rim of his beer glass. There’s a million instincts shouting in his brain, mixing into a little symphony. To tell him to fuck off, basically. Tell him he worked hard to ‘get the girl’, and continues to work hard to keep her. Tell him that whatever he’s got in his head about their relationship is probably far stranger than whatever he’s-

“Whyyyy~?” Is unfortunately all he manages to squeeze out inbetween anger, confusion and a bit of shock. It seems to be enough for Daniels, who guffaws.

“Well, no offense, Jakey, but you’ve been a detective for what, eight years now?”

“Eight and a half.”

“Amy Santiago needs more than a detective to keep her career floating.”

It had started out as a frankly lovely evening. It wasn’t date night, per se - just a random evening where they’d both found themselves out of the precinct earlier than expected, and Jake had spun Amy round on her heels once while holding her hand, grinning and asking if he could ‘take a lady for a drink’. (He was well aware that he did corny-romantic the best, and it usually worked with Amy. Like it did that night, making her giggle and roll her eyes and lead him down the streets to Shaw’s anyway.)

“I mean, that’s all she was about back at the 64. Going up the ladder. Nice girl, but jesus, her constant work chatter really pushed down her ratings.”

“Ratings.”

“Yeah.” Daniels grins and Jake tries not to think about punching those teeth out. “You remember from the academy, yeah? We set them all up during darts night. Much better than the 0-10 scale.”

“I never went to darts night.”

“Oh right.” Daniels sips on his beer. “You were always hanging out with that Rose biker chick.”

“Detective Diaz.”

And since it wasn’t established date night, and they were only having a beer each before they’d probably head home, it didn’t feel all that wrong to invite an old academy pal to their table when he bumped into him ordering at the bar. If it had been anyone from the 99, Amy would’ve probably done the same, and Jake was a bit too busy introducing him and laughing about the fact that they actually knew each other from Amy’s old precinct to notice her raised hackles.

“Diaz, sure, sure. Gotta tell you, if she wasn’t such a hardass bitch, she’d be a straight A.”

“Oh good, a letter rating system.” Jake groans through gritted teeth.

“Your Santiago, though...” Daniels leans onto the table with a wink, and Jake imagines his face crashing into it if he slapped the elbow he’s leaning on away. ��She was a whole A+ at the 64th. Until she opened her mouth, and got into that whole career shit with the captain.”

He was not too busy, however, to notice her complete silence ever since Daniels had sat down - nor his clear disinterest in changing that, talking to Jake only, slapping his shoulder and recounting those ‘good old days’ Jake didn’t really remember the same way. Not too busy, either, to notice her jumping up ‘for the bathroom’ when Daniels started on their time in the 64th, and rushing through the rest of the bar patrons like something had stung her.

Jake sees red, and tries to blink it away. Unsuccessfully.

“Amy’s ambitious, and rightly so. She’s one of the smartest detectives we’ve ever had, and she’s gonna be a sergeant, lieutenant and captain before any of us even manage to get the first test topics into our brains.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, right.” Daniels grins and winks again, and the red turns into pure fire in Jake’s eyes. “With a bit of shmoozing, those tests are a doozy, I know.”

Jake’s hand slams onto the table so hard the guys next to them look over for a second, and Daniels’ beer topples over right into his lap.

“Hey, dude, what the fuck-”

Amy’s been in the bathroom for a good 10 minutes. Daniels chatter has turned from good academy pal to annoying classmate to ‘jesus fuck, I remember this douche, Rosa used his picture as her personal darts board’. He’s been talking about ‘Santiago’ as if she hadn’t been in the same room as them only minutes ago, and his face as Jake calls her his girlfriend says more than enough.

“You know jack-shit, you stupid piece of crap.” Jake snarls, and the guys next to them quickly shuffle away. “You’ve bumbled your way into your job by being a mediocre white guy with just enough racism and sexism in his brain to appeal to the same brand of assholes in higher positions, and now you think it’s okay to spew that kind of trash to anyone with a badge. Amy and Rosa are gonna wipe the floor with douchebags like you. Without the need for shmoozing, or rating systems, or whatever else fucked up shit you’ve been using to get where you are.”

“Listen, you gotta take a joke, man-”

“It’s not a joke, and I’m not going to listen to any of your shit for a second longer. You’re gonna take your beer-stained pisspants out of this bar, and if I find out you’ve been talking like that about any of my colleagues again, or talking shit to them, I’m pretty sure either Diaz or I still have some of those ‘fun’ graduation party pictures you probably don’t remember taking.” Jake’s fist is shaking, but his face is steadfast enough to convey the message (and it’s not a lie - he does know Rosa keeps a blackmailing backlog, and he’s well aware of the academy photos in there, right next to the folder of his own fuck-up proofs that she keeps throwing at his head if he ever tries to refuse one of her demands).

Daniels mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish trying to breathe out of water, before he sputters something that might be an insult, but gets up, so it doesn’t matter. He runs into a few other patrons as he leaves, two of which give him as clear of a stink eye as they give Jake a nod as he passes them, but he’s barely noticing them.

-*-

“....Ames?” Jake steps into the, luckily, uni-sex bathroom Shaw’s had decided on years ago, and finds only one of the stalls locked. “You okay in there?”

“S-sorry.” comes as an answer, and he knows her slightly stuffy voice after crying far too well not to recognise it even when reverberating through an empty bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I made Daniels leave.”

“...You did what?”

The stall door finally opens, and Amy’s red-rimmed eyes are looking at him almost confused as she clings to the handle.

“I told him to fuck off, basically.” Jake shrugs, but then takes a step forward, lays his hand as softly as he can on hers still gripping the doorhandle like it was a lifeline. “I’m sorry I let him barge in like that at all, and didn’t remember what a colossal jerk he actually is.”

“It’s okay.” Amy sniffs, and his hand on hers tightens. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have. Should have remembered how much he pissed me off in the academy already. And even if not, I shoulda noticed how uneasy you were with him straight away.”

“Yeah.” Amy only nods, and sniffs again before he can wipe another stray tear off her cheek. “Thanks, anyway. For getting rid of him.”

“Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum.”

“It’s good to encourage proper behaviour.” Amy tries a little grin even with a wobbly lip, and Jake answers it with a snort as she leans against him, finally letting go of the doorhandle to wrap him in a hug he gladly reciprocates.

“He wasn’t the worst of them, anyway.” She mumbles into his flannel shirt, and his arms around her shoulders grow tense.

“Alright, I’ll need a kill-list then. To hand over to Rosa.”

Amy snickers into his shoulder, but shakes her head.

“It’s okay. I don’t have to deal with them anymore. I’m at the 99 now.” She mumbles, and it sounds a little bit like she’s trying to remind herself of it, too.

“You’re with the 99 now.” Jake nods. “We take care of each other.”

Amy sniffs once more before looking up at him.

“Did we need to have this heartfelt moment in a bar bathroom?”

“Let’s go home, Ames. Before they make me pay for the beer I spilled all over the seats.”

“Wait, what?”

-*-

She’s deep asleep next to him, her hair all splayed out over the pillow since he played with it until she dozed off, her lips slightly open for that little, high, whiney noise she makes that he knows means she’s completely gone into dreamland.

He turns his phone screen’s brightness all the way down to keep her there before starting to type.

- Roger Daniels u remember him?

- what did the douche want. Do I need a new dartboard

- can we break him somehow

- why

- made Amy cry. probs for years

- gimme 2 days

Jake sends only a thumbs up before he slides down under the covers, Amy’s cold hands immediately finding their way around his waist as he shuffles closer to spread his warmth over to her side of the bed as well.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

A chatty writing update | novels, short fiction, etc!

Hi folks!

It’s been a while since I last wrote an update on this blog! I thought it’d be fun to go back to basics, and just talk about writing. This post chats about: new plans for Feeding Habits, my newest novel, my short story goals & growing collection, along with process reflections.

(image description: a photo of green leaves with the text “writing update” in a white font written on top. /end image description)

Post starts under the cut!

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed)

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting, @aetherwrites, @avakrahn, @maisulli

What have I been up to?

For starters, I finished my second year of my Writing undergrad last week and got two of my final grades back today (A+ baby)! For anyone who has taken online university, y’all already KNOW, but this year was so difficult. Would not recommend! Really proud of myself to have gotten through this absolute rollercoaster of a school term and am excited to get into some writing. That leads us to:

What have I been up to (writing edition)?

2021 started off so fast. By the time January hit, I was so consumed in my new semester that I did not have time to write Feeding Habits (my novel). In the first few days of the term, I managed to write between class, until I could no longer keep up! Essentially, I did not write any of that novel until exam season (last week), where I did manage to get in about 3k words in ~4 days.

Feeding Habits

I’m currently drafting what I believe will be the last chapter of this book (chapter 10: Swan Song). This chapter is so bizarre for a few reasons. It begins the book’s third part and also marks the shift back into Lonan’s head from Harrison’s. I originally thought this part would be much, much longer, with at least another five chapters to go, but quickly realized the book’s content was nearly completed. In my 4 day 3k palooza, I hit 50k in the book (the word count goal), and couldn’t see myself extending past 60k. Since then, I’ve made the loose decision to write this final chapter as a ~novella. Here are a few reasons why:

1. This chapter is structurally very strange.

I unashamedly shift from present to past to present to past past, and so much more every 12 words. I mapped out the timeline on a sheet of paper, and there were over 20 shifts in scenes (the chapter is only about 4400 words at the moment). The fictive past is incredibly important to this chapter, more important than the present, and I thought it would make more sense to not break randomly for a chapter so I could upkeep the consistent inconsistency of the chapter.

2. The chapter is very abstract

This stems from the structural changes, but there are paragraphs in this chapter of the fictive present that are loosely based in reality. They’re more poems than they are factual paragraphs, and keeping them all contained in one place (so a mega chapter/ novella) would reduce the most confusion!

3. There’s not much left to cover

Like I said above, Feeding Habits is on its last leg, lol! I know exactly where the book needs to end up, which is very, very soon from where I’m currently at on the timeline. Swan Song should cover what 2-4 chapters would cover in terms of arcs.

Feeding Habits and I have a really weird relationship, tbh! When I realized a few weeks ago that it’d been over a year since I started the book, I realized I just needed to finish it. Not that I want to rush (because I’ve taken longer than a year to write a book in the past), but that in order to move onto another project, I’d like to put this one behind first. This book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and has reminded me there’s always a time to let go. This sort of scrounges up a conversation about letting this entire series go, which is certainly something I’ve been contemplating doing soon(ish). If this spinoff series gets a third book, that may or may not be the last Fostered book for a very long time (or ever)! There are many complex reasons to move on, but the main one is that I have other projects I’d like to focus on. This is not a definitive decision, but something I’ve certainly been thinking about!

Here are a few excerpts I wrote recently:

(TW: death, gore)

Dying feels like being a trout dangled out of water. Clinging to a hook. Mouth open. Scales iridescent in a final death cry. It’s like blood spurting up the knuckles, drowning out the flesh. It’s that moment on the long fall down when the clouds cup the body. Easy drifting. The sound a skull makes when it cracks is really just the afterthought.

(TW: death, gore)

Kill shot. Death blow. Coup de grace. Right in the heart. He feels it. The blood swelling, slicking his palms. He can do it. Reach into the cavity. Feel for the ribs. Part each bone. Then cup the humming heart. Stay there. Right. It’s never been easier.

Look at this PURE moment of Lonan holding a baby I CANNOT:

The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds. The evening air nipped his cheeks, so he made sure Olivia was securely fastened between him and his jacket. With wide eyes, she absorbed the drowsy suburbia, all its family cars pulling into driveways, all its couples heading back home after a sunset walk. When Lonan passed a young boy walking two golden retrievers, Olivia giggled, and didn’t stop, even after he’d spent fifty dollars on groceries and nearly the rest on a red Corolla marked with a MUST GO NOW sign outside a convenience store.

Let’s move on!

Mandy and Cora

I said I wouldn’t talk too much about this project, but I just love it so much?? I wanted to share my SUPER early thoughts on drafting a novel, especially one that is SO different from what I’ve been writing recently. I talked about this before in THIS post, but the summary about this project is that it’s a YA contemporary novel! Can’t believe I’m writing YA again, it’s been so long, but I also think it’s going so well. Everything I’ve learned as a literary fiction writer has been a fantastic primer for transferring back to the genre. Admittedly, I have not written much, but I’m having a lot of fun diving back into a lighter project. This is the summary:

Cora and Mandy are identical twins who’ve always done everything together. But when Mandy decides to go to university out of province after graduation and Cora doesn’t, Cora takes this as an opportunity to “test run” life apart from her sister for the first time by spending the summer at her aunt’s house across the country.

I have come up with a few ~things since I last talked about this project, mostly how I’d like to structure it. As of now, I’d like the book to be structured super loosely. I’m really pulling on a lot of inspo from “We Are Okay” by Nina LaCour (which is SO good), particularly how “nothing happens-y” that book is. This project (which I still need a title for!!) will be structured in short chapters that cover something Cora does on her own for the first time (without Mandy). For example, a few ideas are “Flight”, “Lunch”, and “Groceries”. “Flight” is the first “chapter” (they’re really kind of vignettes) where Cora flies to her aunt’s house. I still can’t determine if this book will take place in Canada. On one hand, I feel like there will be a wider audience if it takes place in the US (is that just an assumption??? maybe?? someone let me know!), but also: don’t really care too much about an audience at the moment! It could also take place in Canada (So Ontario and British Columbia). But if it does take place in the US, I think it may take place in NYC and San Francisco. The problem is: I really don’t like researching lol, and while I’ve been to NYC many times, I will definitely write it wrong! Does this really matter on a first draft?? absolutely not lol, but of course I am already overthinking!

But back to structure: I am looking forward to seeing what this looser structure will do. This is a story that is solely around one half of a set of twins learning to be her own person (and ultimately that she doesn’t have to completely forget her sister in order to do that), and as a twin who KNOWS this feeling, I think this structure of her doing things for the first time is SUPER relatable.

I was worried it might sound silly/worrying to others who are not twins that Cora hadn’t done things like “lunch” or “groceries” on her own, but I feel this so much as an identical twin myself! Not that she hasn’t done anything at all by herself, but as a twin, when you do something without your twin for the first few times, at least in my experience, you notice. If any twins are reading this--weigh in!

This story is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. It definitely is an OwnVoices book! Usually, I avoid details that are remotely similar to me because they make me uncomfortable haha, but with this book, it’s all me, lol! The characters are all Guyanese, which is SO fun because I’ve been planning what they eat (my fellow Caribbean peeps know: the FOOD!), which is so fun (yes they have pumpkin and shrimp, yes they have roti, yes they have pera, yes they have mithai). Every time I’ve gone to dabble at this book, or even think about it, I get incredibly emotional for this reason? I don’t exactly know why. I think this is a story I just so want to tell, with the culture I love SO much that I definitely struggled to love as a child. This is reclamation bitchessss!

Not going to lie tho: the prospect of writing ~a book~ is kind of freaky! I’m going to make the minimum word count for this book pretty short (50k) and see where it goes from there. I think I will focus on this project this summer! Originally I was going to write a literary novel this summer, but I think this one’s calling my name!

Here’s a pretty rough excerpt:

Try. I remind myself that’s what I’m doing after the flight attendant fills me a disposable cup of Coca Cola and all I can think of is Mandy and I shoving Mentos into a bottle of the stuff when we were twelve. Just me, wedged in the middle seat between an exchange student heading out for summer break and a middle-aged woman sipping a cocktail, thinking of Mandy and I bursting whole oranges in a blender when we were bored one Winter break as the plane dips through a wave of turbulence. Mandy and I dying our hair neon green with highlighters (didn’t work—our hair is too dark) as the plane lands on the tarmac. Mandy and I arguing so loud last month, we both lost our voices as I lug my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and shuffle off the plane and through the airport, searching for Aunt Vel.

Short Fiction

I’ve written so much short fiction this year! I have a goal to write a short story a month (they can range in length, as long as 1 is “complete”), so my short story brain has seriously been soaking it all up lately. Let’s chat my month to month breakdown so far:

January:

I wrote four stories in January! The first is a flash fiction piece called “Shark Swimming” that follows a young woman who attends a shark swimming class after breaking up with her girlfriend. I wrote this story for a “test” workshop for my fiction class, and it was based off the prompt “think about something you’re afraid to do and make the character do that thing”. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but had been wanting to use the title “Shark Swimming” for AGES (literally since 2018).

This story is one of my favourites. It’s only about 900 words, but I think there’s something profound in how mundanely specific it is. The entire story doesn’t even see the narrator swim with sharks once; it actually takes place fully in the sanctuary’s lobby. But I really love this narrator. This is the first story I’ve written in second person in a while, though I felt really connected to the unnamed narrator. She struggles with accepting that she truly is a “boring” person, and there’s something about the final image that really gets me!

I’ve been submitting this around, though it’s been rejected a handful of times. Hoping I can secure it at a magazine one day because I really love it!

The second story is “Joanne, I’ll Pray for You” which is actually a rewrite of one of my very first short stories (the first story I did not write for a class haha), “NYC in Your Apartment”. I LOVE this rewrite a lot, and also learned the original is not a very good short story! Revising this story taught me just how much I’ve learned in the 2 years I’ve been writing short fiction. Seeing the 2019 version versus the 2021 version side by side is fascinating because I essentially “gutted’ the 2019 version of its beginning and end until all that was left was the middle of the story (aka the actual story). AKA: this is the only story I’ve ever written with a hopeful ending and I cut out all the happy bits lol I am SO sorry (that arc is more for a novel or novella). That’s how this went from a 5k word story to an 1800 word story (my Submittable thanks me for this lol). A lot of details and scenes I included were more pertinent to a 3 act structure/novel, which of course short stories don’t often have because of their brevity. I love rambling about writing theory, and seeing that actually pay off is so fascinating!

(TW: trauma)

Like the original, this story follows Joanne, a woman in her early twenties, who spontaneously breaks up with her boyfriend. She claims the poltergeist haunting her drove her to this decision. The original draft focused a lot more on the traumatic events Joanne survives, but this draft really loosens them up. It focuses less so on the events themselves, and more on how Joanne’s life is affected. I found the details of these events were less important, and even sort of contradicted Joanne’s insistence she is being haunted. Instead, the poltergeist really takes more precedence in the new draft as a force Joanne doesn’t understand. That ambiguity, I think, is what the story truly needed.

I also centralized Joanne’s relationship with her boyfriend, Julian, here. Now don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t add anything to this draft. It was a matter of trimming the fat around it to leave the lean “meat” in the centre. But by removing that fat, I was able to emphasize what was most important here, and that was her relationship. Julian always played a really big role in the original draft, but I feel like his role as both a friend and partner to Joanne is much more emphasized since this draft literally is only two scenes now. Because there is less, there is more room for Joanne to reflect, which I’m happy about!

A final change I made was the setting and therefore the title. The original, which was “NYC in Your Apartment,” I couldn’t keep because I shifted the setting to Toronto (this is how I originally saw it, but in 2019 I just?? couldn’t?? write?? canlit??), and “Toronto in Your Apartment” sounded sort of gross LOL. The new title comes from a line in the story which I think is more relevant to the themes!

The next short story I wrote in January was “How to Spell Alpaca.” This one is super fun because I wrote it SO fast (in about 15 minutes or so). THIS is the writing update if you’re interested in learning more. I talked extensively about this one in that update, but some developments are that I dove into an edit a few weeks ago to really understand the core of the story. I’m still not quite there (this is just an intuitive feeling; I know not everything has “clicked), but I am really intrigued by the two mothers in the story, the narrator, and her newfound acquaintance, Violet. Both really struggle to understand their place as mothers (the narrator even declares she isn’t a mother anymore). The narrator, who is in her 50s, sees herself in Violet, who is much younger (~20s), and so she views Violet’s relationship with her daughter in a cautionary, yet mournful way, like she can see it will end up like her own relationship with her daughter, despite wanting the opposite. This is a really subtle story. I feel like if you blink, you’ll miss the message. But I think it’s compelling for that reason. It’s really a portrait of parenting and how to grapple with mistakes you may make that inevitably affect your children. Wow just unlocked the theme writing this lol.

The final story I wrote in January is “The Party,” which may be in my top 3 faves I’ve ever written. This story follows Aida, a recent divorcee in her ~40s. The day her divorce turns official, she moves into a new house and receives a party invitation addressed to the previous homeowner, yet RSVP’s anyway. At this party, she’s hoping to find some sense of noticeability, having struggled with being nondescript her whole life. Things seem quite normal at the party, until it gets bizarre.

I LOVE this story, y’all. Like “How to Spell Alpaca” it really delves into motherhood. Aida, our narrator, is incredibly hurt after her divorce. She now lives farther from her children she struggled to feel connected to in the first place, and doesn’t really know how to reignite her life. This party is a means to do that. This is the first story I’ve written that contains a “twist” which is strange because I really prefer stories that give us as much info as possible upfront, but yes, this one sort of twists.

February

I wrote one story in February, and that was “Protect the Young.” This title is SO changing when I think of a new one because it’s thematically incorrect, haha, but this story follows a woman in her late 40s whose daughter, Lindy, announces she is married the same day all their backyard chickens turn up dead. The discovery of dead chickens prompts our narrator to recall her ex-husband’s murder and the role her daughter may have played in his death.

I love this story so much! I think this would make a great closing for my short story collection. It just has that vibe! I wrote this for my second fiction workshop. I thought I had to hand in the story a week earlier than I had to, so I panicked and wrote this in one sitting! Little did I know, I did not need to do that lol but I’m very happy because this story is so fun. We get to learn more about Arnold (her ex), his relationship with Lindy, and how that translates to Lindy’s relationship with her new husband, Malcolm. I LOVE true crime (I listen to about 3-4 hours of case coverage daily), and this is my first “true crime” story. Because of that, I’m very sus of a few details that probably wouldn’t slide in actual investigatory work, so I’ll also be working on that in a revision. My professor also gave me a great suggestion that may alter the story’s structure a bit, though I look forward to toggling with it in the future.

March

In March, I was really on a Criminal Minds kick lol. I’ve been watching this show since I was seven (oops), and dove into a rewatch since it hit Disney+! This story, “Where to Run When the Lamb Roars,” is very clearly Rachel watching 5 episodes of CM a day. Oops! We follow 14-year-old Astrid as she and her older half brother kidnap a young girl to sacrifice for their yearly ritual.

I knew a few things going into this story, but the main thing was that I did NOT want to show any details of a potential murder (if one even occurs). I really wanted to keep all of those elements off the page because this story is not about those events, but about Astrid’s relationship with her brother. They are a murderous duo, with Astrid actually being the dominant partner. I wanted to explore that. I knew her brother, Fox, was more of a submissive partner in their team, even when he used to do this same thing with his father when he was much younger (chilling!), and so it was a task to explore how this young girl’s desire for violence works. The end actually comes right before the story starts, one could say, but I like it for this reason. It really made me contemplate the story by the time I finished it, and helped me examine what it really was about versus what it appeared to be about.

April

(TW: sexual content, non explicit)

I was so busy this month! Who knows if I’ll write a story last minute, but I did write one story this month called “Five Times Fast.” I wrote this during a “writing sprint” that was being hosted at a flash fiction workshop I recently took with one of my favourite writers ever, K-Ming Chang. I learned so much from this class, and am so happy I came out of it with a draft! This story is just over 300 words, so the shortest flash I’ve ever written, but I’m really happy with it. It was based off the prompt “describe the last time you or your character was naked.” In this case, the narrator has a “friends with benefits” relationship with Ricky who works at a laundromat. This story highlights a moment in this relationship (and also Ricky’s goofy personality lol). I really like it! Hopefully I’ll submit it to some magazines soon.

My short story collection

Very briefly I wanted to touch on my short story collection which I’ve titled “She is Also Dead.” I’ve been meaning to make a blog post on this, so look out for that in the coming months, but this collection is already at around 35k words (about 14 stories so far). The collection also surprisingly has a solid amount of flash fiction which is kind of fun! There’s definitely a range here, which is what I personally love in short story collections.

I feel very professional now that I have a ~collection chart. This is her:

(image description: A chart with the title “She is Also Dead.” It is broken into four columns: Story, Status, Word Count, and Published. Entry 1 - Story: Slaughter the Animal. Status: Revisions, Word Count, 3982, Published: N/A. Entry 2 - Story: Joanne, I’ll Pray for You, Status: Polished, Word Count: 1809, Published: N/A. Entry 3 - Story: Primary Organs, Status: Published, Word Count: 2342, Published: The Malahat Review. Entry 4 - Story: Faberge, Status, Polished, Word Count: 619, Published: N/A. Entry 5 - Story: The Wolf-Antelope Will Not Come for Us, Status, Polished, Word Count: 1556, Published: filling Station (forthcoming). Entry 6 - Story: How to Spell Alpaca, Status: revisions, Word Count: 1327, Published: N/A. Entry 7 - Story: Blink Twice for Final Judgement, Status: Polished, Word Count: 6572, Published: N/A. Entry 8 - Story: The Species is Dead, Status: Published, Word Count: 1208, Published: Minola Review. Entry 9 - Story: Shark Swimming, Status: Polished, Word Count: 907, Published: N/A. Entry 10 - Story: The Party, Status, Polished, Word Count 2339, Published: N/A. Entry 11 - Story: Fig, Status: Polished, Word Counter: 947, Published: N/A. Entry 12 - Story: Protect the Young, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4128, Published: N/A. Entry 13 - Story: Where to Run When the Lamb Roars, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 2174, Published: N/A. Entry 14 - Story: Phantom Limbs, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4844, Published: N/A.) /end image description.

This order is DEFINITELY not permanent (at this point whenever I write a story, I just fit it randomly into this chart lol), and some of the info is outdated (for example, Slaughter the Animal is now polished!!! thank god!!!). But just an idea of what I’m thinking of including.

This is the summary so far:

In SHE IS ALSO DEAD, characters are pushed to act on their gravest impulses. A small town turns murderous when their local invasive species, the Janices, begin dying. A child struggles to understand her mother’s suicide. A college dropout who insists she’s being haunted by a poltergeist unexpectedly breaks up with her boyfriend. A mother acknowledges her daughter’s murderous tendencies after her backyard chickens mysteriously die. A young girl caters the funeral of a girl rumored to be killed by a wolf-antelope. A newly-divorced mother RSVP’s to a bizarre party she was not invited to, and a murderous brother and sister upkeep their yearly tradition of abducting a young girl. These stories follow characters who navigate death, violent desires, womanhood, and loss, both self-imposed and otherwise.

This is also so subject to change as I may pull and add stories to the collection!

I think I’m going to leave this update here for now! I’ve written TONS of poetry too, but I honestly ~hate my poetry right now lol, so! Hope you enjoyed this chill rambly update. Hope writing has going well for you all! All the best!

--Rachel

[diem-my]

post game headcanon (sakusa kiyoomi)

summary: after the msby vs alders game, you go down onto the court to greet your boyfriend, sakusa kiyoomi. where you also run into your children the chaotic trio

word count: 1k

warning: spoiler for the manga

a/n: hello this is my first headcanon, i wrote it at 3am, it kinda became a shit post, oops? i hope you still enjoy it (◍•ᴗ•◍)

~~~~

→ the game just ended and everyone's going down to congratulate the players

→ you step onto the court and you see sakusa in the corner confronted by little kids asking for his autograph

→ he looks like he wants to tell the kids to fuck off because no, he’s not going to touch your pen, who knows where its been

→ but he can’t tho, because that’s fucking rude - also he doesn’t need the kids to burst into tears, that’s just another problem 

→ with a constipated face, he weakly grabs the pen between his thumb and pointer finger and just scribbles out a signature

→ no it does not look anything like his real one but the adorable little kids don’t know that, they look like they won the lottery

→ the kids scattered away to brag to their parents they met the sakusa kiyoomi

→ thinking it’ll be fucking hilarious, you make your voice super high pitched and go “sakusa-senpai, can i please have your autograph?”

→ with his back facing you, you can see the way his shoulders tense up, probably thinking “are you fucking kidding me, another one?”

→ sakusa turns around with the fakest smile only for it to be wiped away and replaced with exasperation

→ you say completely serious “what? i need a side hustle” 

→ arching his brows, completely unimpressed, you burst out laughing 

→ you walk over, grabbing the wipes from your bag and open it for him

→ he picks up the sheet the same way he did the pen, and you have to contain your amusement, looking grateful, he wipes his hands - twice

→ you also hand him a new disposable mask, completely sealed in plastic

→ you’re about to congratulate him on his win, when you hear voices shouting your name 

→ looking over you see your children  the chaotic trio speeding towards you with their arms flapping everywhere

→ hinata and bokuto are running towards you and you can tell they’re about to run you over in excitement (they are unaware of their strength smh)

→ before they can reach you, you put your hand out to stop them 

→ they instantly freeze 4 cm from your hand

→ you give them a look to be patient then turn to your left

→ you raise your eyebrow at sakusa and he shoots you an uninterested glance back

→ but his left hand comes up an inch, and you know you won 

→ rolling your eyes you come closer and wrap your arms around his back, pressing your lips to his heart you whisper “you did amazing omi-a” 

→ you feel his hand wrap a lil tighter around your waist 

→ tilting your head up, you smile at him, letting yourself show just how proud you are

→ his eyes become softer and his mouth opens "-

→ “omg omi has emotions, someone call the press over! the world is ending!” screech's atsumu 

→ and the mood is gone

→ hinata and bokuto quickly look away, trying to hide their laughter

→ you turn around giving atsumu a blank stare and declare “you’re not getting a hug”

→ omi lets go and retreats back into the corner (he would’ve gone to the locker room but coach said it’s rude to leave right away when everyone came out to support the team, minimum 10 mins) ((he’s counting down the seconds))

→ atsumu starts protesting explaining how difficult it is to tease omi and that it was a perfect opportunity that he couldn’t let slip away, trying and failing to get your sympathy 

→ you ignore him and motion for the sunshine duo to come closer, you give each of them a hug, and they go off

“ HEY HEY HEY DID YOU SEE MY SPIKE?! ”

“DID YOU SEE MY LAST SHOT?! I TOTALLY MADE UGLY KAGEYAMA CRY! -”

“you didn’t make him cry” mutter omi

“I FINALLY BEAT HIM TOO! ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?!”

→ they are looking at you with twinkling eyes and their fist shaking in excitement as they recount their tales (they look like adorable puppies)

“YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO DO ANY OF THAT WITHOUT ME SETTING IT YOU DUMBASS!” a dejected atsumu yells says - being without attention for a while has made his hair flat you notice

→ you pat the duo lovingly on the cheek and say warmly that yes you did see and that you were super impressed and proud 

→ atsumu is looking like he’s about 2 seconds away from a tantrum, you decide you’ve tortured him enough 

“you know what to say atsumu” you say seriously, although you’re laughing on the inside

“...sorry omi…” he mumbles

→ you can hear omi cackling behind you before he slips away, its probably been 10 mins

→ you pull atsumu into a hug and tell him his setting was also amazing

→ as you pull away, you see his hair has come back to life 

→ puffing his chest out he declares confidently “of course i was, when am i not?”

“i thought she was talking about your setting?” mumbles a confused hinata 

→ the trio now look like overjoyed puppies who had too much sugar

→ a staff comes over and informs bokuto that he’s gonna be late for an interview

→ you say your goodbyes, not become promising to come to their next game

→ about to walk away and find omi, you hear atsumu manipulating talking hinata into asking you something (he knows everyone has a soft spot for hinata)

“wait umm do you - if you are free of course,  do you think you could maybe.. make some more of those rice balls?” a careful hinata murmurs 

→ he look so sincere, how can anyone say no (probably if you’re tsukki or kageyama)

“of c-” “no she can’t” interjects omi

→ rolling your eyes, you wave your goodbyes again as you walk towards omi, who’s already dressed and ready to leave (probably rushed so he could get back to his place as fast as possible and wash up)

→ as you two walk away, you hold your hand out and you feel the hand sanitizer drip onto it

→ rubbing your hands together, you inform omi “you’re the one who said they get hungry too quickly during practice”

“i wasn’t asking you to make them food,” retorts omi, "you spoil them too much" he adds

→ grabbing your mask from your bag, slipping it on, “sure you weren’t omi, sure you weren’t”

→ as you guys make your way out, you feel his hand brush against yours, a soft smile creeps onto your face, hidden by your mask

→ for all his indifference and leak of emotions (sumu’s words) omi has his own way of showing his affection

→ you intertwine your pinkies under the night sky, and disappear into the crowd 

[sweatersstyles]

washed away in you

I don’t have much to say except I appreciate your patience with me as I worked on this piece! I apologize again for all the confusion with posting and deleting and now reposting. This is the third part to my Dad!Harry series. Once again you don’t have to read those to understand this one, but I’ve linked them below in case you would like to revisit them. :)

Thank you to @taintedwonder for reading over part of this for me!

word count: 4.2k

needles tw // (small mention towards the end)

I Want Your Belly (part one) | Wonderful and Warm (part two) | writing tag | masterlist

y’all have already been so good to me but as always likes, rbs, and comments are welcome!!

//

Of all the weeks to be put on bed rest, it had to be the week that Harry started filming for his new movie role.

Technically you were on modified bed rest, which meant resting as much as possible but still moving around as necessary, but the phrase terrified Harry enough that he was doing whatever he could to keep you still. It hadn’t been an easy task, you were in your 8th month of pregnancy, quickly approaching your due date, and there still seemed to be a mountain of important things to get done before your son’s arrival.

It had only been two days since you’d started having what you thought were contractions. It had forced you and Harry to realize just how unprepared the two of you were when you had to rush out of the house at 2 a.m. with nothing packed for what could possibly be the night of your child’s appearance into the world. Just the two of you with disheveled hair and rumpled pajamas under the harsh lighting of the ER exam room. 8 hours of tests and scans and a visit from your doctor later, you returned home to fall back in bed and catch up on the sleep you had missed.

“Listen you’re both new to all this..I get it. But you’re putting too much stress on your body and that’s what caused this tonight. I know it’s hard but, take a week, relax, bed rest as much as possible. I’ll see you in my office again in a few days just to make sure everything is progressing along like we want. If there’s still too much stress on the baby, we may have to push your due date up a little earlier. But we don’t want to do that if we can avoid it.”

Currently you were in the nursery, where most of the last minute things to do remained. You were standing at the changing table, folding a set of onesies to be put away. Harry had been urging you for the past 10 minutes to sit down.

“Harry, I have been in bed all night, or as much of it as your son allowed me to be without kicking me in the ribs or pressing on my bladder. I just wanna get these folded and put away and I’ll be done.”

“Well you can at least sit while y’doing them. Or, let me finish ‘em.” His hands fall on your shoulders, gently guiding you towards the rocking chair in the corner. You gesture for him to bring the basket closer, “And why is he only my son when he’s causing you trouble?”

“Maybe cause it was your birthday treat that got us into this mess. Or because he already likes to tease us so much. Besides, you can’t do them, I have a system.”

“Yeah, a birthday treat planned by you. And I know the system, you showed me two days ago.”

“You knew the system, we changed it.”

“We? I’ve barely been home how’ve we..”

“I may have called your Mum again.” You shrug, propping your feet up on the small ottoman positioned in front of the chair, “She and I agreed it’s better this way.”

“You didn’t think it was important to notify me of this system you and y’new bestie have thought up?” He’s turned to lean his back against the changing table, arms folded across his chest. As much as he wants to be upset, he’s over the moon that you and Anne have become so much closer over the past few months. Between his mom and yours, plus your sister and his, he was thrilled to see you had so much support for days when he couldn’t be there. Anne had offered to fly out to spend the week with you, as did your mom, but you put them both off, promising you would need them more the few weeks after the birth.

“Been a little busy growing a human here, Harry. May have slipped my mind. I would’ve gotten around to it eventually.”

“Right, you can just tell me where everything goes then.” He’s already worked his way through folding the last of the pile, smiling proudly at you as you lean your head back and close your eyes, sinking further into the chair.

“Socks in the second drawer to the left, hats in the middle. If the onesies are newborn sized, they go to the right. Anything bigger than that gets tucked in the baskets by size there in the middle shelf of the closet, if you can find room.”

Between the two of your families and your group of mutual friends, you’d been given 4 baby showers over the past few months, combining with the items you and Harry had supplied for yourselves. People had been more than generous in helping stock the nursery for your little one.

“All done. How ‘bout some breakfast now?”

“You don’t have time. You have to be on set in less than an hour. I’ll make myself something in a bit. I may go back to sleep for a while, just got up to see you off and wanted to put those things away.”

“Always have time for you, angel,” He offers his hand to help you lift yourself up, “Maybe a smoothie?”

“Alright, if I let you make me a smoothie, will you take yours to go? Don’t want you to be late because of me.”

“Deal. But only if you let me tuck you back into bed before I go.”

“Deal.” You lean up slightly to accept the sweet kiss he offers before shuffling off to the kitchen together.

//

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve decided. You’re not allowed to look.”

You knew he wasn’t listening, trying to maybe, but not really. He sits across the room at the desk in the corner of your bedroom, glasses perched on the end of his nose, guitar in his lap, journal open in front of him. He’s in writing mode, something that usually takes you at least 30 minutes to coax him from and convince him to come to bed. Not that you ever wanted to interrupt his process, but tonight you’re feeling anxious about your impending delivery, dread slowing working its way through your body. 

It had been only a few days since your follow up appointment with your doctor. She had deemed you fit to come off bed rest, but urged you to continue to try to keep your stress level to a minimum as much as possible. Easier said than done, but you were finding small ways to relax yourself when you could; meditation, music, reading. But tonight you just wanted Harry for reassurance.

In your nightly scroll through one of your recent favorite mom-to-be blogs, you had come across an article on the difficulty of delivery. You appreciated moms who were brave enough to share their stories online and this person in particular had included a video. Despite your anxiety, you clicked to watch, curiosity overriding any fear rising in your chest. 

When he finally puts away the guitar and the journal and sheds his soft purple robe to swim up the bed to settle next to you, he asks, “Were y’sayin’ something earlier, m’love? Got lost there for a bit, m’sorry.”

His writing sessions were normally done in his office or the studio, but the past few weeks he’d preferred to do them here. Liked the idea of you trying to softly hum along to a new tune he was working through, occasionally offering your opinions about what you liked or didn’t. It was rare that you disliked anything, but he liked that you didn’t shy away from being honest with him. His favorite though? The sight of you, an open book, hand always resting on the side of your belly while you read. It was just as much a comfort for him to be near you these days as it was for you.

“Yeah. I’ve decided. You’re not allowed to look when I deliver this baby.”

His head rests on your thigh, only the side of his face visible as he looks up at you, but it’s enough to see the disappointment flash before he composes himself, not wanting to upset you.

“Alright. What d’you mean by that? Like..you don’t want me in the room or..”

“No, no, I want you in the room, that was never a question. You’re just not allowed to look when I’m pushing. I watched a video and I’m traumatized and I just..”

He sits up quickly, “You watched a birthing video? Without me?”

“Yeah, earlier when you were zoned out. You’ve never seen one?”

“Never been curious enough to watch one ‘til now. Not ‘til I thought of you having our babe. Show me the one you watched?”

You’re hesitant. Truly you’re touched he’s so curious and wants to share this experience with you, but right now the thought of him seeing your body change like that is scary. He senses your unease, almost reads your mind; he knows you so well.

“Babe, s’your body. If you really don’t want me t’look, then I won’t. Just..at least show me what you watched so I can see for myself what it’s like, what you’ll go through. S’all m’askin’ for now.”

“Okay, fine,” You pat the bed next to you and he scurries up to sit, his head on your shoulder while you navigate through your browser history to find the video. You start it, but your eyes stay focused on his face.

“Y’not gonna watch it again with me?”

“No,” You drape your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer so you can rest your head on top of his, “I’d rather watch your reactions this time around.”

You’re curious to see how he reacts to certain parts; his little gasps and winces as the video progresses. When it ends, you’re not surprised to see tears have fallen down his face and made a small wet spot on the front of his t-shirt.

“Harry, you’re not upset with me, are you?”

“‘Course not, meant what I said earlier. If you really don’t want me t’look, then I won’t..but I don’t want you to think I’ll look at you any differently after. You’re givin’ me one of the greatest gifts anyone ever has, if anything I love you more than I ever thought I could. And that’s only gonna grow once our boy’s here.”

You run your hands through his hair, not sure what to say. You’ve never had a love this big, one that envelops you so fully. The past few months have shown you just how deeply he cares for you, and just how much your own heart could stretch to fill with your overwhelming love for Harry and now the baby growing inside you.      

He doesn’t take offense to your silence, just stills your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips. He slumps further down the bed, head level with your stomach. He pokes it softly through your shirt. He doesn’t even have to ask anymore, you know what he wants and you’re glad to give in to him. You scoot down to rest your head on your pillow, pulling your shirt up and tucking the fabric under your breasts.

Instantly his head rests on your tummy, a hand reaching around to lay there on the other side of it, wrapping himself around you. You reach over and turn the lamp on your bedside table off, sleep drifting it’s way through your body and mind. You let one hand fall to his back, the other one joining his arm to wrap protectively around your belly.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” 

“You can look. If you want.”

“Y’don’t have to decide tonight. We still have a little time to plan.”

“No. I don’t want to take any of this experience from you. The whole thing’s just a bit scary though.”

“I know it is, m’terrified too. But everything’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna be there for every second of it.” 

“I know you are. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane through all this. You’ve been so good to me, H. Putting up with all my mood swings and late night cravings and whatever I needed.” 

“I haven’t had to ‘put up’ with anything. Just want to make you and bub as happy as y’both already make me.” He turns to kiss the side of your stomach before looking up at you, “Comfy? Am I squishin’ you?”

“No, it’s nice. Don’t see how you can be comfy though.” 

“I’ll move to my pillow in a bit. Just like being close to you and bub,” He yawns, “Goodnight, babe. Love you both so much.”

“We love you too, Harry. More than you’ll ever know.”

//  

Sleep had been pretty much non-existent in your third trimester. You were lucky if you got a few hours each night and cat naps throughout the day were rare. 

Tonight is no different. It’s 3 a.m and once you get up for your fifth trip to the bathroom, you know there’s no point in trying to get comfortable again. Harry will be up soon, and as much as he tries to stay quiet during his morning routine, he always found some way to unintentionally wake you. You couldn’t even sleep through his soft kisses to your forehead to say goodbye anymore.

Normally you take yourself down to the living room to find a mindless tv show or movie to carry you through your insomnia, but Harry also seemed to be infected with your curse of being a light sleeper these days. Most nights he would attempt to join you, sweet enough to not want you to be alone, stubborn enough to not listen each time you urged him to go back to bed. He always paid for it the day after though, dark circles under his eyes and nodding off to sleep throughout whatever he had scheduled. 

So in hopes that you wouldn’t wake him by leaving tonight, you reach for the remote to the bedroom tv, muting it so the noise won’t disturb him. You would almost be content enough to stare at him for the rest of the night. The sharp outline of his jaw, freckles scattered across his face that would rival the constellations in the sky, all softened by the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. As much as you don’t want to wake him, you can’t help but reach out to run the back of your hand over the smooth skin of the man you admire so much. You adore the way even in his sleep he molds to your touch, soft snores and deep, even breaths never stopping as you move up to brush his curls away from his face. 

You almost make it through 20 minutes of a movie before his eyes flutter open. You know how much your false contractions from before weighed on him, alarm is quick to flood his face before he has a chance to take in his surroundings. 

You answer before he has a chance to let worry take over, “It’s alright. We’re okay. Just the usual..couldn’t sleep.”

He rubs his eyes to clear them, “What time s’it?”

“4:30.”

He squints slightly at the movie playing before chuckling, “How many times y’think you’ve watched this one? Know it’s been at least a dozen or so in the last month.”

“It’s my favorite. One of them, anyway. It’s always been soothing to me.”

“Bet you could quote the whole thing by now, even with it muted.”

You glance up at the tv and it only takes a second for you to pinpoint the exact part. You take his comment as a challenge, pushing yourself up out of your nest of pillows to rest your back against the headboard before quoting, “Faith is a bluebird you see from afar. It’s for real, and as sure as the first evening star. You can’t touch it, or buy it, or wrap it up tight. But it’s there just the same, making things turn out right.”

Your voice breaks as you say the last few words. Maybe it’s the combination of exhaustion and all the new fears and hormones running through your mind and body. Nostalgia of watching this when you were younger and now sharing it with your child when they are old enough touches your heart and you can’t stop the tears continuously streaming down your face.

“Baby,” He pushes himself up to rest next to you, tugging you until you're pressed close to his side, “Please don’t cry.”

“M’miserable, Harry. I’m as big as the moon and I can’t breathe and my feet always hurt and I’m just..ready for him to be here. Ready for him to be out so I can hold him and kiss him and put him in his own bed so I can rest in mine again.” 

You know you sound childish and whiny and somewhat ridiculous, but being so sleep deprived means all sense has left and so the words come spilling out, a jumbled mess you doubt he even understood.

“I know you are, love. Hate to see you so upset,” He kisses the top of your head, “Certainly as bright as the moon, but not as big. Your body’s as exactly as it should be. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but that’s only cause you’re tired. He’ll be here soon and we’ll have so many people here to help, yeah?”

All you can do is nod, you know he’s right and you know once you have a nap things won’t feel so overwhelming. You pull yourself away from him to wipe your face on your t-shirt. A smile stretches across your lips as the thought enters your mind, “If I’m as bright as the moon, you’re as golden as the sun.”

“Yeah?” He’s blushing now, looking down at his hands before his eyes dart up to meet yours, “Guess that makes bub our little star, huh?”

You giggle before shrugging, “Guess so.”

“By the way,” His hand rests on your thigh, “We gonna keep calling him bub or we gonna pick a name?” 

“Bub’s cute. Bub Styles.” You wrinkle your nose at the thought, “I just want it to be perfect for him, you know? I feel like I need to see his face before I just blindly pick a name. We could definitely narrow down some options though and see which one suits him best.”

“We’ll think of something special, eh? Somethin’ just f’him.”

“Yeah, we will,” You suck in a sharp intake of breath at a particularly hard kick from within your stomach. Harry’s head snaps to look over your face before looking down to where your hand lays on your belly.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are wide, on edge as he waits for your answer.

“It’s fine he’s just..ah, being a little rowdy this morning.” You take his hand from your thigh and press it to where the kicks were landing, “Right here. Think that’s his butt, his head’s down here, and..ah, his feet are right about here. Can you feel him?”

His palm lays flat across the front of your belly, “S’amazing, never gets old. Bet it feels so..weird to you though.”

“At first, yeah, but got used to it pretty quickly. It’s comforting now, like he’s saying hello or contributing to our conversations when we talk.”

He puts his mouth almost right against your tummy, so close his breath tickles and you feel the vibrations when he speaks, “Take it easy on mumma, little one. Just a bit longer, yeah? Can’t wait to see ya face. Bet y’so handsome like daddy, just gotta be a lil’ more patient like mummy, alright?” 

“Think maybe he’s ready for his pre-breakfast snack?”

“Dunno..I’ll ask him though,” He bends again, “That why y’bein’ such a brat to mum, huh? Woke her up early cause you were hungry? Alright, daddy’ll make your usual.”

He kisses your stomach, before straightening to where he’s level with your face, “That sound good?”

Your “usual” was a bowl of what had been your biggest craving throughout your pregnancy; fruit. On nights like this when sleeplessness couldn’t be defeated, the two of you normally gave in pretty quickly and had breakfast together. On days when you were able to sleep through Harry’s departure, you would always wake to the bowl already prepared and ready for you. Oftentimes there would be a quickly scribbled note with the words “Love, H” stuck to the top or the side of the bowl, like you didn’t already know who had left it for you.

“You’re spoiling him already, Harry.”

He smacks a quick kiss to your cheek, pulling back just a second before diving back in to peck another one on your other cheek, “Tryin’ to spoil you too, angel.”

//

Contractions, real ones you were sure this time, had started 30 minutes ago. As much as Harry wanted to rush you out of the house in your pajamas, you had insisted on at least 5 minutes to change and pull your hair into a quick ponytail before gathering your bag and dashing down the stairs.

Just as Harry’s hand lands on the doorknob, you tug on the sleeve of his jacket, “Harry, stop for a second.”

“Why? Are you having one now?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“This is one of our last moments before we become parents. I want you to slow down, take a deep breath, and kiss me.”

“You’re impossible, you know that? Active labor and you stop me for a kiss.” He rolls his eyes but you can see his shoulders drop, relaxing just enough to press his lips firmly against yours. You reach your hand up and around to the back of his neck, deepening it for a moment before drawing back to scan his face.

“Better?” Your hand continues to work through his hair, happy to watch his face relax slightly at your touch.

“Much. How are you so calm?”

“I don’t know, really. I thought I would be scared, and I am but..I’m ready. So ready to meet him.”

“Me too. Let’s go.” His hand falls to the small of you back, leading you out the door and to the car.

Once you arrive at the hospital, he doesn’t leave your side, not even when the nurse suggests he do so while you get your epidural. She agrees to let him stay, but makes him sit in a chair in front of you and sternly tells him not to look.

He holds both of your hands, squeezing them tightly as an attempt to distract you. He knows how much you hate needles, how the thought of this procedure alone had scared you almost as much as the idea of labor. You release a deep sigh of relief when they announce it’s done, and he helps you settle back into bed, tucking the blanket around you.

“So proud of you, baby. You’re already doing amazing.” 

Things progress much faster than you ever thought they would, and it’s only three hours before you’re ready to push. Harry’s there for every second of it, hand behind your back and small encouragements in your ear when you think you can’t go any further. 

“M’tired, H.” The room is full of people, your doctor and a set of nurses, but his focus stays on you; simply existing together in that moment. Small pieces of hair have come loose from your ponytail, clinging to the sweat now covering your forehead. He sweeps them away before resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I know y’are, lovie, but you’re so so close. Doin’ so incredible,” His smile is so wide, beaming at you when he leans closer, “Y’look gorgeous too, never seen you look more stunning than now.”

That has a laugh bursting from you, still breathless when you reply,  “You’re such a bad liar.”

“M’serious! Know better than to lie to you.” He winks just before working his arm around behind your back again, giving you the motivation you needed to keep going.

It’s not long before you hear what you’re certain is one of the best sounds you’ll ever hear, the sweet sound of your baby boy’s cry as he enters the world.

//

An hour later, both of you are still in awe of your little one, sleeping peaceful now in their dad’s strong arms. Harry’s wedged himself next to you in the hospital bed, long legs stretched in front of him. He keeps looking between where your head is propped on his shoulder and the baby.

He breaks the silence first, “Definitely think he has your hair. S’nice and soft.”

“Think it’ll be darker like yours though. Maybe he’ll have your eyes.” You reach over to run your finger along your baby’s nose.

He looks between you and the baby again, a prideful smile brightening his face. He smushes his lips against your temple, and you close your eyes as the feeling of adoration combined with the  exhaustion of the day washes over you. 

You hear him whisper just as you’re drifting to sleep, “My moon and star, together at last.”

[billyspotato]

Visiting Day [Part 2] - Eric Coulter

Words: 3.100+ words

Type: Fluff

Warnings: English is not my first language, sorry if I misspell anything. Maybe swearing? Being naked?

[Part 1]    [Part 2]

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

“I swear on Earth itself, Eric, if you don’t get your ass up” You start while listening to the alarm beside you.

Eric is rarely slow on getting up, but he still had these days where he doesn’t feel like it. He knows he can’t fall back asleep, so, he leaves the alarm playing to wake up the whole building.

The man under you moves slightly and the alarm is turned off, leaving your ears ringing slightly, because you were that close to the alarm.

You open your eyes to look at the buff blondie under you and he looks like he is getting ready to fall back asleep.

“You have to go train the initiates” You tell him while looking up at him, his eyes open as you do so, and he quickly glares down at you.

“Don’t remind me” He says with his raspy and low voice, a result from sleeping.

You roll off him and lay your head on your pillow, so Eric can’t use you as an excuse to stay and not work, and he groans out of frustration when his, now exposed, torso meets the cold breeze.

“Aren’t you working today?” He asks pulling your hair away from your face, just to gain your attention.

“Only after breakfast” You answer and open your eyes just to see his reaction.

A glare is all you get before he rolls his eyes in annoyance and sits up in the bed. You close your eyes again as he pulls himself up, probably revealing his naked self to the world.

As Eric starts looking through the drawers for clean clothes and you fall asleep again.

(…)

You walk in the cafeteria and see all the initiates eating their breakfast like they’ve been starved. You can’t blame them, the 6am workouts are the worst, no food in your system, only water. You felt like passing out most of the time when you did them.

You feel that people are looking at you as you walk up the metal stairs and once you check, many initiates are actually looking at you. Majority guys, but some girls as well. You can’t really tell what their looks mean since when you got interested, you were already up the stairs.

“Y/N” One of the leaders says when laying his eyes on you, “You got to save us before it’s too late”

You walk to his table confused and he smiles when the other leaders laugh at his choice of words.

“Eric is in a bad mood today” He says, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay?”

“More than normal” He explains, “Some initiates annoyed him today at training and now we’re all paying the price”

You look around the tables filled with leaders and other kind of Dauntless members.

Your eyes land on the blonde man sitting alone and you’re able to tell that he’s annoyed just by how tense he looks.

You decide to go grab a muffin for your breakfast before going to him and some other leaders look at you, almost as if thanking for your existence.

No one, not even Max, can deal with Eric when he’s in his worst mood.

Once you’re close enough, Eric scrubs his face with his hands in frustration and you put down your food next to him, on the table.

“What’s up, bubs?” You ask in a loving and playful tone as he sighs out loud.

You put your legs over each side of the bench and take a good look at Eric, who hasn’t even looked at you. You lay your hand on his shoulder lightly and move it over to his neck, trying to relax his tense muscles by caressing his skin.

“I hate having to deal with initiates” He admits, pulling his hands away from his face and laying his cheek on his fist while looking at his food.

You stay silent for a bit, taking in what he’s saying and waiting to see if he wants to say anything else, before you jump in and talk.

“Are they that annoying today?” You ask while playing with the short hair on the back of his head with your nails.

He scoffs at your words as if they weren’t even half of what he experienced today.

“You’re going to have fun with them” Eric says ironically, not answering your question.

Oh, it’s that bad.

You’re not one to get easily irritated when training initiates because you try to understand that most of these people never fought or held a gun, but there are exceptions. And people compared you to Eric when those exceptions were a part of your day.

From disrespecting you or any other leader to refusing to work, you couldn’t just tolerate it. You’re okay when people feel exhausted and want to take a breather, but not when they step a foot on the gym and say, ‘I’m not doing it’.

No, that is not happening.

You decide not to talk any further about the matter and change the subject.

“We have ‘capture the flag’ today” You tell him, and he lets his shoulders fall and looks at the wall in disbelief. He completely forgot.

“Can’t Four go for me?” He asks and you smile at his words.

“No” You say, making him finally look at you, “I’ve been waiting to play against you since I became a leader. Don’t take this easy win from my hands, now”

Eric laughs at your words and you smile at him, noticing him finally relaxing.

“Easy win, uh?” He asks when calming down his laughter.

“Yeah, don’t think so?” You ask while smiling and he grabs his cup smiling back.

“You’re going to lose so fast” He says in almost a whisper and you gasp dramatically at his words before laughing slightly.

“You wish, Coulter”

(…)

You understand Eric’s annoyance, now. The initiates are starting to get to your nerves.

Not all of them. There’s this group of guys and girls that just make you want to rip your hair out. They are just doing the bare minimum.

You look at Four in annoyance and he sighs next to you.

The both of you look at the group of guys hitting a boxing bag each and you roll your eyes when noticing that they’re making fun of a girl next to them.

“Hey!” You shout, making your voice echo from the huge gym and the guys (and everyone else) look at you, “Stop playing around and start training! How many times have I told you this?”

One of the guys covers his mouth with his hand and you can tell that he’s trying not to laugh.

“10 laps around the gym” You order, and they look at you in disbelief.

Four walks away when noticing that there are some initiates who need help, back at the boxing bags, and you stay where you’re standing.

The boys continue to look at you and you frown at them.

“Didn’t hear me?” I ask and they nod.

Here’s the thing, initiates are not used to run around the gym, specially when they had a 6am workout with Eric, which was running through the whole premises of the Dauntless faction. Initiates run across when warming up, while Dauntless borns run around the room. Seems easy until you notice that your trainer wants you to run close to the walls and not take short cuts.

Damn you, Eric.

As the three boys start their laps around the room, you walk to over to the girl that was being made fun off.

“What’s your name?” You ask her and she looks at you, scared.

She answers you and you nod, looking back at the ranking board. Bellow the red line.

Once you start instructing the girl on how to really hit the boxing bag and adjusting her positioning, your sister’s eyes were glued on you.

She hasn’t really seen you up close since the altercation with your parents, but she has been trying her best on each training session.

She tries not to ask for help when it’s you or Eric training her, she doesn’t want to seem annoying and a slow learner to the two of you, but Four and other trainers really help her after hours.

You step away from the girl as she gets the hang of it all and you look around to see if there’s anyone else struggling, everything looks fine. You look around to check on the boys and they’re still running. God damn miracle.

(…)

You help some trainers carry the equipment to the train and Eric continues to make sure that he has every initiate in the big group of teenagers in front of him.

“Do we have everything?” You ask and the trainers nod.

You walk over to Eric and the trainers make their way to the front carriages, since they’re just going to monitor everything while the game happens, therefore, they don’t need to occupy more space in the only carriage you’re using.

Eric tells the initiates to get on the train and he’s quick to follow them, while you continue to look for your sister. Once you find her, you notice her talking and laughing with another girl, making you feel relieved over her finally having friends.

You walk close to the doors after checking if everyone is on and Eric stretches his hand out for you. You take it and he quickly pulls you into the carriage.

You close the sliding door once the train starts to move and Eric does the same.

“Alright” Eric starts, gaining silence and everyone’s attention, “We’re playing a game like ‘capture the flag’”

You grab one of the bags and pass it to Eric, who grabbed it and grabbed one of the guns.

“Weapon of choice,” He says, holding it so everyone can see, “A gun in which has neurostim darts as bullets, simulates the pain of a real gunshot wound. Only lasts a couple of minutes”

You see everyone tense up as the words ‘gun shot wound’ comes out of Eric’s mouth and you chuckle slightly.

“We’ll have two teams, me and Eric are captains” You say to everyone, making them look at you. You look over at Eric and smirk, “You can choose first”

Eric smirks back and says the name of the guy at the top of the leader board, making you bite the inside of your cheek in frustration. You’re quick to answer with the second on the leader board and Eric glares at you, gaining a smile.

“Y/S/N” You say, and she looks over at you in shock, expecting to be one of the lasts to be picked.

“Uh, picking the weak ones so you have someone to blame when you lose?” Eric asks and you roll your eyes at him.

You two continue to pick the rest of your team members until there’s no more initiates and the train stops. Eric and you jump out of the train and walk over to the amusement park in silence, the trainers are already going to their spots in case someone tries to trespass the limits of the park or if a medic is needed.

You play with the flags, both of them glowing in the dark intensely, and you give Eric the green one.

“You can have the ugly one” You tell him, and he grabs it, chuckling at you.

You two walk in the park and separate right away, so that Eric can go find a place to hide his flag.

“Alright everyone, we just have to wait until we hear the horn. Once we hear it, the game starts” You explain to your side of the team.

You take a look around the group and notice the fear written on some of their faces, especially your sister, she looked terrified.

And she is. She’s terrified of the idea of making you lose. She’s terrified of today being one of the days that her aim is awful. She’s scared of making you look bad.

“So, we’ll obviously need an offense and defense team. I’ll be in the defense, who wants to come with me?” You ask, grabbing your sister’s attention and most of the team lifts up their arm.

You start arranging the team, giving yourself more defense players, since you believe that Eric’s team is too good to let a big group of people run past them, towards the flag. And on the last minute, you look over to your sister.

“Actually, you’ll be offense” You tell your sister, making her look at you with widen eyes.

“What?” She whispers and you ignore her shock to look at the team.

“I’ll stay down here fighting while you guys try your best to get that flag, I can’t be the one to get it” You explain and everyone nods, “Don’t push if you don’t feel safe enough to do it. These darts hurt more than you think”

Well, that didn’t really relax anyone.

“Last 30 seconds” A trainer announces, and you look over at her and at your team.

“Let’s go” You say with a smile.

Everyone follows you while trying to fight their nerves and anxiety and as you take another step, the horn sounds.

You whisper commands as all of you start moving as a group and they all do as told, no hesitation.

You look over at your sister and she is too focused on what’s in front of her to notice your stare.

“Relax, I got you” You whisper only to her and she looks at you, almost forcing her muscles to do what you told her to.

Once all of you enter the center of the amusement park, you start looking around. It’s empty, no sign of the enemy team.

But you know Eric too much. This is a trap.

“Go around to their side” You whisper to half of your offense team and they run off right in that second. “Try to see where their flag is”

Your side of the team starts looking around as careful as ever while you continue to look at every box and wall suspiciously.

“There” Your sister says, and you look at her. She points at the second tallest tower of the amusement park; you can just see the tip of the flag waving with the wind. Bastards, they know how to hide it.

“Let’s go that way” You tell them and they all nod.

You all hesitate to go over the center of the park and go around just like the other half of your team, and once you meet them, you hear someone shout.

“They’re over here!”

You’re sure that’s Eric defense screaming, and him and his offense are coming right at you right now.

“You” You start by looking at your sister, “Go with those two to the flag” You order, pointing at other 2 team members, and she doesn’t move, “Now!”

The three of them get up and start running to the tower and you start hearing footsteps, many of them.

“They’re coming” You tell the rest of your team.

Everyone in your team peaks over the boxes and as you hear them start firing their darts, you help them.

Not all your darts hit someone or something, but with the help of some of the others from your team, you’re able to bring at least 4 players down.

“They’re defense is pushing us as well”

You decide to stop looking and aiming at the offensive team and try to deal with defense on your own.

You’re quick to study the scenery, how many teenagers do you see peeking out from the boxes and of course, how bad their aim is.

You’re not trying to lose an eye today.

After some more shooting, you’re able to bring down two of the defensemen and some of your team are also screaming in pain behind you.

You decide to push in when noticing that their defense is not trying to get up any soon and some of your teammates do the same.

They’re quick and silent when following you into better positioning.

How does your team not have the flag yet?

You peek again and smirk at the sight.

“Oh, there you are” You whisper to yourself before shooting at Eric.

He’s quick to move back and you look for a way to push in more.

A sharp pain hits your shoulder and you hiss in pain as you feel it. You look over to your side and you’re quick to react with the trigger as you see a guy from Eric’s team aiming at you.

You lean back on the box once he falls and you pull off the dart, smashing it to the ground. You’ll never get used to this pain.

You push in when noticing that your team is still standing like before and run closer to Eric. You notice him fighting a girl from your team and quickly shoot him on the arm and leg.

A tone of darts are shot your way as you do it and you’re quick to duck under the box. As you move over to the side, another sharp pain hits your thigh and you groan when caught by surprise.

You look around in confusion and quickly see Eric behind another box, now in front of you.

How the hell did he move so fast?

You crouch while hissing in pain from your leg and try to get better positioning, but you’re almost surrounded.

Eric peeks at you again after being done with another guy from your team and you pull the trigger, hitting him on this forearm. As he hisses him pain, you push in and land another two darts in his leg and a last one on his chest.

You duck again and a loud horn is heard around the park, snapping you back into reality.

You look over to the tower and see your sister with the green flag in her hands, waving it around as your team starts cheering.

You chuckle and stand up, regretting it right in the same second because of the sharp pain still circulating on your tight.

“You alright there, old man?” You ask when noticing that Eric hasn’t stood up.

“Fuck you” He says in a groan of pain and you smile.

(…)

You laugh at Eric when walking out of the park and he smiles down at you. You play with the flag on your hands and look around, finding your sister, talking to her friend.

You step away from Eric and he stops walking to look at what you were about to do.

Your sister looks at you and smiles right away. You give her the flag and she takes it.

“You deserve it” You tell her before walking back to Eric while still looking at her and grabbing his hand, “But just make sure to give it back, they have this weird thing about keeping it extremely clean for next year”

She nods before you could turn back around and you all walk back to train.

- - - - - -

A/n: I feel like this could’ve been better, sorry that it’s so simple.

I decided to tag everyone that asked for a part 2 and commented on the last part: @scarhades​ @seafrost-fangirl​ @letsthedogpackandthecats​ @prettyinblack231​ @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @xxxxxerrorxxxxx​ @artaxerxesthegreat​ @taina-eny​ @caro-jean​ @nico-jai-1​  @thatoneweirdfoxysexygirl 

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