#dont make moves. neither of us can probably handle being close-close anyway

[patches-of-thistle]

i like this platform. it makes me feel comfortable venting out personal feelings that id rather much not say to my friend group - or otherwise gives me a setting that helps me retain a sense of solace-in-isolation while doing so

[peralta-guaranteed]

good trope or bad trope: one of them waking up from surgery or something and being so high on drugs they forget they're together and the other has to explain it

good trope GOOD trope good trope! and this was probably just a question but I couldn't resiiiist

-*-

It's kind of sad to think about the fact that Amy is already used to monitors beeping in a cold hospital room around her squad and, mostly, around her partner. They've been in so many horrible situations, so many little moments where she's had to worry about them, that today she's almost glad she doesn't have to. Jake's surgery had neither been scheduled nor planned, and there had been a whole lot of panic leading up to it when she drove him to the hospital wincing in pain, his arms clutched around his lower stomach, but the doctor's told her they came in early enough for it to be a more routine procedure rather than an emergency. And now his appendix was out, and he would be hurting and healing for a while, but the trepidation about that is nowhere close to the fear she's used to feeling while sitting in these uncomfortable hospital chairs, wondering when the person in the bed next to her would wake up. The last time she'd been in this position, Rosa was hooked up to so many many more machines, and she looked like a bad wax figurine of herself, all pale and stiff.

Jake looks almost fine, no breathing mask or tube down his nostril, just a little beeping heart monitor and some infusion in his arm. The nurse told her he'd be waking up soon when she lead her into the room, and that they could probably go home later that evening already.

(She also told her that he'd been one of the more amusing patients she'd had under anesthesia, which was not a surprise, and that he'd been asking for her every time he groggily opened his eyes for just a few seconds, which was not a surprise either.)

He blinks awake slowly, eyes darting around the room as if to figure out where he is, before they land on her and stay stuck, his forehead creasing in confusion for a second before he grins.

"Heyyyy, it'sa Santiago!" He tries in a croaky voice, and Amy reaches for the cup of ice water the nurse brought in to hand it to him. He's shaky, but he can handle it alone, she notes almost subconsciously - she remembers enough moments where she's had to feed him ice chips instead because he could barely move his arms.

"Hey." She answers with a softer smile as he gulps down almost the whole cup - considering he still hates water, he must really need it. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just splendid, thanks." He quips before trying to sit up more and wincing, the stitches in his stomach upset. "What the hell did I do this time to end up here?"

"What?"

"I mean, I don't remember a chase or a fight, but it sure feels like I took a knife to the stomach or something?"

They look at each other, equally confused, before Amy shakes her head.

"You dont remember-? It wasn't a work thing, Jake, your appendix almost burst."

"Ah dang. That's not even a cool story for a new scar." He sighs as he leans back a bit against the pillow and carefully palms the space where she knows the skin is going to be light pink and rougher than usual from now on. "Sorry they made you wait around for my stupid ass to recover, or is the squad at least taking turns?"

She stares at him, her mind racing, and it seems to make him nervous. He's still trying to go for that usual grin, but his eyes are darting around, sticking to parts of her without looking directly into her eyes, and she can see he's getting fidgety. Mixing that with what he's saying, and the way he's saying it - his voice is different, somehow, more - guarded, or distant, it's hard to explain, but she only remembers it from a long time ago - makes her suddenly realise.

He's been given some very heavy duty painkillers and narcotics, she hears the nurse's voice in her head, so he might be disoriented or confused for quite a while. It shows differently in lots of people, so I can't tell you what to expect, but he'll be back to normal once it passes through his system.

He doesn't remember, she thinks. He doesn't remember... a lot.

"Jake." She gets his nervous attention back, trying to school her voice into something calm and friendly, instead of the equally nervous and somewhat excited giggle she wants to let out so bad. "I think you're still working through your medication. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?"

He leans back again and stares at the ceiling, and it's hard to read the emotions on his face.

"Just... regular work stuff, to be honest. Nothing big."

"Okay, then what is the last big thing you can think of?"

"Uh." He swallows, and Amy refills his water cup, but he doesn't take it. "I, uh, I remember Hoytsman kidnapping me." He laughs a short laugh, obviously trying to make it seem lighter than it ever was, but that's not the only reason Amy feels her heart jump.

His mind is stuck before their relationship. After Sofia left him. He thinks he's woken up after being injured at work, and there's no one there waiting for him except for a work partner who he's been trying so hard to pretend he doesn't like anymore, and for whom he obviously has to play the "I'm okay!" role still.

"Wow. Uh. Okay." She babbles, trying to find a way to be gentle and not confuse him any more. "Then, uh, I guess, well, your medication should pass soon, I think, and you'll remember more, so don't worry-"

"Amy." He's staring at her when she finally looks up, and notes her shorter hair, her far more comfortable outfit than the pantsuits he sees her wear at work, and even while high on drugs it's not that hard for him to put two and two together. "How much am I missing?"

"Quite a lot." She finally admits, but drops her look down into her lap, to her folded hands, and she unconsciously covers her wedding ring before he can see it. "A few years."

"Years?!" He squeals while leaning forward and then groans, because that has definitely upset his wound.

"It's okay, the nurse said it would happen." She quickly tries to calm him. "It's - you'll remember when the anaesthetic passes properly, so it's alright."

"Alright, yeah." He nods and finally settles into the pillow again, as silence envelops them for a few awkward moments, in which Amy's mind races through all the things he's missing right now.

"Okay." He interrupts her sad little mental storybook of their life's drama. "Let's play a game until then, huh? I call it 'Shock&Tell'."

"Jake-"

"It's easy, you'll get the rules. Basically, you tell me stuff I don't know right now and see how shocked you can get me."

"That's not funny-"

"Oh, I think it is. I know how much you like to have me speechless." He grins at her, and she can't resist.

"Title of your sex tape."

"Amy Santiago!" He gasps with a laugh, but there's hesitation in his eyes, and she remembers they weren't exactly at a flirting stage back where he is right now. "For that alone, you have to play a round with me."

"I can't think of anything shocking at the moment." She lies, and he sees right through her.

"Okay, then tell me the worst thing you think happens to me in those years, and the best. From your opinion."

She sighs and stares at her hands again, but she knows he won't let up - he's not gotten any less obnoxious from back then to now.

"Alright. The worst thing. You went to jail." She states, matter of fact, and watches his eyes practically bulge out of his head.

"Holy shi- WhAT?! Like, for a crime? Or-what-did I-what?!"

"You were innocent!" She says as fast as she can, and watches him deflate only a little.

"I sure fucking hope so! But still, what- how- why- ?"

"You and Rosa were framed by a criminally corrupt cop. It took us a few months to get evidence against her and have her sentenced instead."

"A few months." He whispers and stares at his hands, scrunching up the blanket he's wrapped in.

"You weren't alone." Her voice is soft and calm now, seeing him in such a state of unrest, and it takes all she has not to pull him into a hug - it'd probably both confuse and actually hurt him right now, given the stitches. "I mean, you were alone in prison, but we- the squad - we were all fighting for you and Rosa, and Charles and I visited you, and we- I- we never gave up on you."

He smiles, soft and a little broken, but he nods, as if that was something he'd always expect.

"Okay, now the best thing. Because lemme tell you, Santiago, you have to make up for that suckerpunch."

She smiles much wider now, almost grins as she leans forward to finally reach for his hand, entangling their fingers (to which he goes along almost automatically) and feeling her rings clink against the one on his. Jake's eyes are frozen on her hand in his, where he can see a shiny wedding band over what is clearly his Nana's old engagement ring, and he's barely breathing.

"Oh my god." He whispers a moment later, squeezing her hand almost painfully tight as he looks at her again, and she's still smiling.

"We're married?"

"Yeah."

"To- to each other?"

"Yeah, you doofus." She laughs.

"I'm- I'm your husband." He whispers again. "Even thought I went to jail?!"

"Well", she still laughs softly at the absolute shine in his eyes, the awe on his face. "You proposed after that. But I would've married you before, anyway." I would've married you before a lot of things you don't remember, she thinks but doesn't dare say, for fear he'll ask about those other things.

"You're my wife." He says, still stunned, and she nods. "We're married."

She nods again, and watches as the confused awe on his face turns into an almost relieved joy, and his bottom lip trembles as tears start rolling down his cheeks.

"Jake..." She whispers in turn now, her free hand (that is not currently being gripped by both of his) cupping his face and wiping away some of the tears that keep flowing.

"You're happy?" He asks with trepidation in his voice, and Amy wonders if the emotional rollercoaster is another side-effect of his medicine or just his lowered inhibitions. "I'm a good husband?"

"I couldn't wish for a better husband. You make me very happy." She's almost close to tears now herself. "I love you so much."

He gasps at that, and pulls her still gripped hand up to his face, pulling her closer to him in the process.

"I love you, Amy." is his answer, and she realises he means it, even with all the things he doesn't remember, all the things he doesn't know yet. "I love you so much. I can't believe I get to marry you."

His tears have calmed down a little by now, and she fixes her awkward pose of leaning forward and having both arms reach for his face by climbing up onto the bed with him, as he lowers their hands and looks at her with stars in his eyes and so much love on his face, she can't resist to pass the last few inches and kiss him.

His eyes are still closed when she pulls back and touches her forehead to his, and he's whispering again.

"Wow."

"Well, that's certainly an appreciated reaction." She giggles.

"Don't tell me I don't react like that every time you kiss me, because there's no way I'll believe that."

"Yeah." She smiles again as he opens his eyes and smiles back. "Yeah, you kinda do."

And just to prove it, she kisses him again.

[nctworststuff]

Pairing- Boyfriend!Renjun x nospecific!reader

Warning-Death,Cancer

Genre: Angst

a/n: Here what you guys got after a months I’m not post anything. Also Thank you my friend,Lucy because helping me a lot :). Hope you guys like it

He always with you

He avoided meeting with you lately. You missed to spend time with him so much. You missed his scent, his hugs, his kisses, his presence, but most importantly, you missed him.

You recently spent a lot of time in your apartment, all by yourself. Watching movies, drinking hot chocolate and staying under your fluffy blanket. Sometimes you went to hangout with your friends, but not as often as you used to. However, today you couldn't take it anymore. I have to visit him, now!

Deep inside you knew that he would never cheat on you. What if something bad had happen to him? Maybe he got sick or maybe something in his family came up? You didn't know. Helplessly you scrolled through your media social. Usually, he would be active on Instagram. Always adding things to his story or at least posting the pictures he made. But ever since 3 weeks ago, you haven't seen him post a single thing. As if he vanished.

You took a look at your photo gallery on your phone. It's filled with pictures of you and Renjun. Everytime the two of you had met in the past months, you had taken at least one picture. Are you okay, renjun?

You didn't want to waste your time anymore, so you walked into your bedroom to change your outfit. You arrived at his house that felt like a second home to you. Big dark clouds covered the sky and sun. It may rain soon. You slowly walked to the door and opened it with the spare key Renjun gave you not so long ago.

You couldn't see him when you entered. Maybe he is in his bedroom? You steped further into his apartment. It was a big mess. You tried to comprehend what could've happened here. The TV was on, adding some noise to the otherwise quiet space. Some old snacks that have neither been fully eaten nor thrown away, covered the floor. It surely wasn't healthy for him to life in all this trash.

You finally went upstairs and pressed the door handle down slowly after knocking and getting no reply. Who knows, maybe he's sleeping? However  you suddenly heard a faint crying sound instead of the silence. What's happening to him? Thousands of thoughts were running in your head, creating one scenario worse than the other. "Renjun?" You softly called out his name and fully opened the door. He turned his head and body to look at you, surprised by your arrival. His eyes were more red than white and his face looked as white as freshly fallen snow did.

"Y/n? W-what are you doing here?" He looked at you with what you could only assume was an angered expression. You slowly approached him and sat down on his mattress beside him. You hesitantly leaned your head on his shoulder and put your hand on his thigh, joining his own one. Oh, how often you had fiddled with his slender fingers before. They were just as beautiful as the art they created, but now they were just dried skin and bone. You were convinced, something bad happen to him!

"And why are you crying?", you asked him in return, probably a bit too late, but not that it matered anyways. He kept quiet for about a minute, before taking a deep breath and forcing those awful words out of his mouth. "I have a disease! I-I have cancer..." He closed his eyes tightly to hold himself back from sobbing. The fear that lived within him ever since the doctor told him he was going to die earlier than expected, suddenly skyrocket in your presence.

Shutting you out in the hope of making you forget him, had been so much easier than seeing your heart break right in front of him. You didn't deserve the pain he caused you, so why...? Why are you still here y/n? Why couldn't you stay away from me? "So that's the reason why you pushed me away? The reason you avoided me? Why didn't you tell me? Renjun? Explain it to me. Please explain everything." you looked at his eyes that beared so many emotions, while he bit his chapped lips.

"I-I don't know. I... I was just so, so scared. Actually, I-I knew I had cancer... It... They told me a year ago."

His confession was interrupted by a hiccup. He started crying again and put his hand on his face. You've been together for 3 years and he kept this a secret for all the time, telling you just now? "I-I'm only going to live for one more week. My doctor said there is no other way for me." Why? Why did he need to leave like this? Couldn't he be healthy and grow old with me? Searching in your confused and helpless mind you looked for a solution.

"Hey, i-it's okay. Its not your fault! I-I could spend all my money for your surge-", but he cut you off with a harsh movement by his hand. "You heard what I said. There's no chance, y/n!" Now your eyes were filling with tears, blurring your sight. This can't be true! "You said you would never leave me. You- You promised." The tears poured out of their home, painting a wet line down your cheeks until they dropped down your chin, falling. You too, felt like falling. You were so angry, but not at him, no, he didn't wanted this either. You were angry at the situation. At the fact that you couldn't do Anything.

Watching your little emotional breakdown, Renjun stayed quiet. After he had avoided meeting you for so long, seeing you come back to him, crying with him, still caring for him, there was only one thing he wanted. "Y/n? Can I ask for one last thing, before death is taking me?" He moved his hand to your shoulder, pressing it softly. "Anything for you, Renjun!" You desperately looked into his eyes, meeting his softened expression. "I just want to spend my last week with you. Please. One last time?"

Day 2

Standing in the kitchen for about half an hour, you had made a healthy breakfast for the two of you, since he loved your cooking. You poured some hot porridge into his favourite bowl and placed it on the tray. Walking slowly to not drop anything you brought the food to his bedroom. He was still asleep, looking utterly peaceful.

While you put the tray on a near small table, you called his name softly, to wake him up. Upon hearing his name, his eyelids fluttered open. Still a bit sleepy, he rubbed his eyes and gave you a questioning look. "I made some porridge for you. Should I... feed you?" You smiled at him shyly. He could just nod his head, feeling exhausted even after taking such a long nap.

You sat down beside him and took the spoon to feed him. He followed your every move as you put the still warm porridge in his mouth. A big smile suddenly stretched across his cheeks. "I knew your cooking would never disappoint me!", he complimented, making you giggle. Yet, you couldn't ignore the sad feeling in your chest, knowing you had to accept the fact that he was going to die soon. Only five days would be left after today.

Of course Renjun noticed the way your expression changed. “I dont like to see you sad. Please smile for me” He grabbed your other hand too, making you smile. The smile only he got to see. You don't even know if the sweet smile you were currently wearing on your face would show up for another guy, but for now it seems like it is just for Renjun, who finally noticed the bracelet on your wrist.

"You still wear that bracelet?” His eyes fixated on your wrist. You just watched him with sparkling eyes, while thinking back to how you got that gift.  “Of course! It looks so pretty and it bears a lot of memories for me!” He smiled at you with just the same sparkles glowing in his eyes, making your heart beat unbelievable fast in your chest. You didn't knew why, but the comforting feeling of love, the love created between the two of you, filled your now shared room. Softly touching your own cheeks you felt how they heated up.

“It's- wait... I gave you the bracelet 5 years ago, when it was your birthday? A-and we still didn't turn into lovers that day, did we?”, his eyes widened. You simply nodded and started chuckling, him joining not much later. Of course you could still remember the day he gave you the precious bracelet. He was being so shy back then, when he planned to give it to you. Haechan, Mark and all the other dreamies kept hyping him up, after he gave it to you.

“You know what? I really can't believe our relationship will just end soon. I really thought we would last longer. I'm sorry!” He smiled at you again, but this time it was a sad smile. You sighed, closing your eyes in agony. “It's not your fault, it never was, Renjun! After all, these moments are the most precious ones that we have. Trust me, I will love and remember you until I take my last breath!” I'll really do! Besides bringing it up first, you hated talking about his disease so much.

Not because you blamed it on him. Not because you couldn't believe, he was going to die soon, no. You hated talking about it because you feared being left behind. You hated the fact that you'll eventually forget about him. That you'll forget how he smelled, how his hands felt, how his hugs felt. And the worst thing was, that you'll forget how it felt to be loved by him. When did all your laughter turn into cries?

Day 4

"Look! It's your favourite flower!” Renjun points his finger to a small bunch of flowers in the middle of the park. You loved going to this park with him before and today wasn't any different. Softly swining your linked hands back and forth and slowly walking near your favourite flower felt like one of those cliché moments from a drama. Especially when you kneeled down to smell on it.

The heavy, but lively smell of the rose lingered in your nose, bringing up even more memories. Renjun gave you one of those exact roses, when he had confessed that he liked you. A small grin made it's way to your lips. “It looks so pretty.”, Renjun said while putting his arm around your shoulders, “Pretty like you!” You couldn't help, but roll your eyes. This was typically him. Renjun loved to compliment and tease you at the same time

You loved the moments when he was simply being himself. He was acting different. Usually he would be rather harsh, or how people liked to put it, ignorant towards other people’s feelings. But he always cared for you. You were his soft spot. It was only normal that couples had little fights from time to time, but renjun never let the two of you be angry at each other for a long time.

He always was the first one to apologize, or if it wasn’t his mistake, he would still want to make up, inviting you to do something that you liked. His classic line which always worked was weather you would want to eat some food ugh him. It was one of the many personality traits that you liked about him

“Ah! I really want to draw the pond and swan over there! It’s unbelievable pretty!” He excitedly took out his paintings tools and moved the stuff around until it stood perfectly within his reach while drawing. You just followed him and tried to not get in his way.

Tipping the smallest brush into the water glass, he started to draw the perfect scenery in front of you. He truly was talented at this. You couldn’t help but admire the way he let the colors dance on the Canva “Your drawing is so unbelievable. It really does look like it’s real”

His face lit up,once the words left your mouth “This is the last painting I”ll before I’m gone. I want it to be perfect!”he still smiled at you, but his eyes showed how he truly felt. The sadness dominating any other feels. Once again, you sighed. It has been almost 3 years, since you’ve been a couple and now you two just stood there, waiting for him to leave

Quickly noticed How your mood shifted towards a bad one, you tried to change the topic

There will be enough time for me to sad once he left

“Do you remember that this place is the first place we met and-“ “The place where I confessed my feelings for you?” He finished your sentence with a smirk. Chuckling you nodded at the statement

That day he called you and asked you to meet him at the park “ can you cell me?” was that he said, when he actually was going to confess to you. You can’t forget that day. You never will. It’s a very precious moment to you, even if he stuttered a lot and the confession felt really awkward too

“Your birthday is this week, isn’t it?” Renjun suddenly asked. You stopping your thoughts. Right, you totally forgot about your birthday. Surprised you just hummed and nodded. “What do you want for your birthday?” You didn’t need to think twice “I just want you stay alive and healthy. I wish you could always be my side” you smile confidently

That will never happen

It was obvious to renjun, but to avoid you sadder he just smile sweetly at you instead of responding “Can we go somewhere after this? Maybe the shopping mall?” You asked him. He looked at you and hugged you close to his chest “Of course!”

He would spend his time with you wisely and make sure that every precious and special moment will never be forgotten

Day 7

I can't lose him! Please!

You buried your face into his shoulder and grabbed his sweater like your own life depended on holding it. You couldn't believe he was going to die in less than a day. He couldn't... Your fragile, pathetic hope only faded more when he started coughing. In the last few days his condition extremely worsened and you tried to understand why people needed to suffer before dying so much. Isn't death enough?

“It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?”, he quietly asked while stroking your back.  “Yes” Your answer was barely loud enough to hear, being muffled by his neck. Still, you hugged him only tighter, afraid of finally losing him. “Y/n, I'm so sorry if I'm not able to be with you tomorrow to celebrate your birthday.” You knew what’s he meant. No, this couldn't be happening! Why were you suddenly to dumb to accept it?

“Please find a better guy than me. A guy who will make you happy, who will stay loyal to you and only loves you. Find a guy who will stay by your side forever. Don't find another guy who'll make you feel dissapointed.” You wanted to tell him, that he never disappointed you, but he already pulled you into a sweet kiss. His lips felt so soft. Soft but rough. It was like your first kiss with him. It was like your first night with him. But in reality, it was your last kiss with him. Yet you saw it as another moment that had been created in this special time.

“You know... I am never going to stop loving you!” You said and looked at him. His face was so pale, you could see the soft blue shining through it. “Me too, honey. There are 7 billion people on this earth but I fell in love with you. We have been a long journey together. Everyone can fall in love but not everyone has a happy ending with it. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise, Y/n!” I know, Renjun.

The worst part for you was that it all happened so fast. But somehow you still hoped this was only a dream. That you would wake up to a healthy Renjun wishing you a happy birthday. Finally the clock was showing 12 AM. It was your birthday. Sounding just as sleepy as you felt he whispered a soft “Happy birthday, Y/n!” He stroked your hair while looking at you with loving eyes, a smile on his lips for the last time, before you both fall asleep under your shared blanket.

Not knowing, that they were his last words.

Day 8

You woke up from a deep slumber and moved your blanket. You saw that Renjun was still ‘sleeping’. Softly you shaked him to wake him up, with no sign of success. He didn't response in any way. After a few more times of you trying to wake him up and him still not moving an inch, you tried to recall which date it was today.

No, it can't be.

Yesterday was the last day you would spend with him. One week. Seven days. All moved by faster than you could remember. In your final hope you searched for his heartbeat, but you didn't hear anything. You couldn't. Now you would need to accept the fact that he was gone. Forever.

You start sobbing. "Renjun, please wake up. Please!" Despite your wobbly arms, you shook his body, screaming so uncontrollably loud that it even hurt your ears. It's my birthday. Today is supposed to be a happy day. This has to be a nightmare. I'll always be by your side. Resonating in your mind you hear a faint voice, but you just ignore it. Renjun was right. Not everyone has a happy ending. And you were certainly one of them.

I'm sorry for breaking our promise

©ɴᴄᴛᴡᴏʀsᴛsᴛᴜғғ@/ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ

[angelsswirl]

Vellichor

The One With The Kick in the Ass

Rating: T

Wrd Cnt: 1k

Notes: 3 chapters left!

Always on the edge of something. Always on the edge of wondering why.

Yes. Irene knew exactly what would greet her when she entered her livingroom. But that didn't change the fact that she was hoping and praying the nightmare she was living would be just that, a nightmare.

"Do you know what vellichor means?"

Oh, no. This is unfortunately very real. Her prayers remained unanswered as she crossed the threshold. Being met with the ever increasingly pitiful sight of her best friend (on a good day) laying precariously across her brown leather couch.

"Not this shit again."

She rubbed her face in attempt to swipe away her tiredness or rub off her skin so she could be carted away to the hospital and away from whatever it was Jisoo was doing. Whichever came first would work really.

"It's that feeling you get when in a used bookstore."

"I very genuinely hate you." Irene sat down on the coffee table. Her head in her hands.

"I feel like vellichor."

"Our whole friendship is a joke."

"I don't think I can go on like this."

'Me neither.' Irene thought idly.

"I fucked your mom."

"What?"

"Now that I have your attention, how long are you going to sleep on my couch?"

"I dont know."

"You're making the house smell like assholery and desperation. Go apologize, have make up sex with your wife. Get her pregnant again for all I care, seems to be your kink anyway."

"You don't get it."

"Neither do you. She's sick right now. You know as well as I do that you're not supposed to stay more than three days away from your omega at once."

Jisoo fidgeted. The guilt about that was eating away at her, but she wasnt anything if not stubborn.

"Lia is there, she should be fine."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself? So, she fucked another alpha 20 years ago. But she mated with you. Get. Over. It. And. Get. Out. Of my. House."

Irene pointed toward the door with a firm finger, not in the least bit surprised when Jisoo only sat up slowly.

"Do you think she hates me?" She asked softly. She stared at her phone. No missed calls from you, because you hadn't been calling. No missed calls from her children, because for them, Jisoo would always answer. Several missed calls from your mom. Jisoo was borderline terrified of her and was making it a mission not to interact with the older woman.

"Y/N? No. She knows you too well to hate you. She knows you're stupid and absolutely shit at handling your feelings."

"I am stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. I love her so nuch that even til this day I get so confused as to why she picked me. And why she's continued to pick me every year since. I'm stupid and a hypocrite and a coward."

Irene nodded along calmly, "Yeah, I've known all these things about you for a while now. So, for the final time. Get off my couch and go tell her that. Go get your wife back."

Jisoo made no effort to acknowledge Irene, but she did clamber off the couch with renewed vigor.

It had been a week and a half since you had seen Jisoo. Your heat had come and gone within the first three days. And in its wake had been the worst case of mate withdrawal you had ever experienced.

You had went through it before. Like that one time before you had officially gotten with Jisoo.

And that other time when Jisoo went to visit her parents in South Korea, and you refused to go with her out of principle that you didn't feel like going to get a passport.

In the grand scheme of things, you're still mad beyond belief at her. More so for leaving you, then because of anything she said that day. But you missed Jisoo like nobody's business and you just wanted her back.

And no, you haven't called to tell her that. Because you're stubborn and this was all Jisoo's fault in the first place. You were waiting on an unprompted apology and then you'll let Jisoo back into your bed so you can finally get a good night of sleep.

During the week, some days were better than others. Most days were just lethargy and other days were full on flu. You're not sure why the omega gets the worst part of mate withdrawal, but whatever.

Today, was one of those days where you were able to get out of the bed. And do things for yourself and clean. And parent. And do the things your children had been trying to do for you.

Bless their little hearts.

Speaking of your children doing the things you normally did, you eyed Peyton who was sitting on the couch, from your place behind the kitchen island.

Where as Ryland and Kaleb had been practically directly underneath you this entire time, Peyton hadn't been. And for Peyton, that wasn't really out of the ordinary, but she had almost been avoiding you.

You continued to stare at Peyton. Your children always thought they could get things passed you. You're not sure why because they never do.

That's when it hits you. You sighed loudly, alerting Peyton to your presence.

You rubbed your temples to stave away the oncoming headache.

"Did you use protection?"

Up until today, you would have told anyone that Peyton didn't have the ability to blush. But clearly, you would have been oh so wrong.

Peyton tried to sink deeper into the couch.

"I'll take that as a no." Normally, you would have to think about a way to break the news to Jisoo, but you're just going to let her figure that one out on her own.

"How can you even tell!?"

"I grew you inside of me for 9 glorious months then pushed you out of me for 30 horrible minutes. Your head was gigantic. All of that is to say, that I'm your mother. I'm always going to be able to tell things about you."

And with that, tears started to fall down Peyton's face.

You instantly gathered the girl in your arms, "Baby, why are you crying? I'm not mad at you."

Peyton buried her face into your neck, "It's been two days and she hasn't talked to me. She won't answer my calls."

"I'm fairly sure but just for some confirmation, we're talking about Maya right?"

Peyton nodded solemnly.

"Honey, don't take it to heart. I'm sure she's probably busy with her summer classes. Or maybe-" You're cut off by a resounding knock at the front door.

You went to open it with a frown.

"Speak of the devil." You mumbled, moving to the side so Peyton could see.

"Hi?" Maya pulled her arm from behind her back and scratched her head nervously. She forced the bouquet of flowers she was holding forward, "I'm sorry."

Peyton wiped her face. She walked toward Maya and took the flowers softly. She looked at them for a second before hitting Maya in the chest with them repeatedly.

"Ow, Peyton! Thorns!"

"Don't. Do. That. Again. I thought you didn't want me or something."

You shrugged at Maya's pleading look, "Don't look at me for help. If she hadn't done it, then I would have."

Peyton eventually stopped. Then pushed Maya back into the hallway, following her. She closed the door behind her.

And you were greatful for that. You didn't want to see them make up or whatever it was teenagers did either.

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

sjdbfisdb your writing is so good!!!! i loooovveeeee the feitan ones so much ahg. im content starved. i dont know if youve already done this since i just found ur acc, but could you do one with with machi in it? maybe fluff? idk...

I've actually never done Machi! I love her so muchhhhh I'm an attention whore for her 😂😂 I didn't know if you wanted male or female, so I did this platonically and tried to avoid anything suggestive of gender (most of the time I try to do that anyway but still)

"Right on time!" you greeted Machi happily, smiling gently at her. She didn't return it. Must of been in a bad mood. Your own mood changed slightly, eyebrows furrowing and squinting at her.

"What happened? You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just ran into some trouble on the way here. " Her arms were crossed over her chest defensively though she finally let a small smile tug at her lips. You sighed in relief. At least you wouldn't have to deal with the bad attitude all day.

You wouldn't necessarily call it a date, mostly because Machi and yourself had been friends for a few months, but you'd offered to take her out to the small cafe just downtown of your apartment. To your surprise, she obliged.

"So, other than that 'trouble' you ran into, how's your day been so far?" you tried to make light conversation. Machi didn't seem to be very talkative in general, though she let her arms fall down to her sides.

"Eh, it's been okay I guess. It happened the second I woke up. Some guy just started banging on my door and yelling."

"How long was he there for?"

"Dunno, don't care. Must of been all morning." she looked away from you and instead to her side, watching for something. Her alertness didn't go unnoticed, though you said nothing. You wanted to avoid making her uncomfortable or seeming invasive at any cost. She told you what she wanted to, and that was all. You didn't want to ruin your relationship when it just started. Though, your own anxiety was beginning to swell in your chest. Who was she looking for?

"So, have you ever been to this place before?" you attempted to start a new topic in order to muffle the apprehension wrapping itself tightly around you. You even started searching for an unknown source of your worry, darting your eyes every where for a threat you didn't even know was there. Machi seemed to take notice.

"Don't worry, nothing is here right now." she started, "And, as long as you're with me, you're safe. Also, no, I haven't been here before." she chuckled at your reaction. You let your guard fall down and continued to walk with her. You had seen Machi fight before so you knew you were probably safe. Still though, you couldn't help but be wary of the world around you. Your hands fumbled over each other nervously.

One of Machi's hands covered both of yours, lowering them slowly. You met her gaze. She was... Gentle?

"Hey seriously, don't worry about it. Everything's gonna be fine~" she reassured you softly, never taking her eyes off you. The world around you seemed lighter now, better than it was a few moments ago.

The two of you simply kept walking together, bodies in sync with one another while you spoke. Machi didn't seem the domestic type, but right now she was rather calm and perceptive. Not only of her surroundings but also of your conversation. She was genuinely listening and giving effort to hold up with you. This in and of itself made you glow on the inside.

Eventually, the two of you managed to make your way to the small café on the corner. You would have passed it up entirely had Machi not pointed it out to you.

“Alright, I hope this was worth leaving home for...” Machi spoke more to herself than to you, and you knew she didn’t mean it offensively. However, the words still reached you in a negative tone. You didn’t let it bother you too much as you knew she’d like it a little bit at the very least.

There wasn’t much to the area. It was rather bland looking and unassuming for someone who was new to the café. Machi didn’t seem to mind though, even letting her guard down more. Obviously, despite the cream color of the walls and typical swirly cursive writing on the white boards, this place struck her as somewhere comfortable. Safe. Safe from whatever had been bothering her earlier that morning. A part of you wanted to ask her about it, to see if possibly you could help with whatever it was. The other part of you said that it was none of your business though and that it would just be better not to ask. You were sure that whatever it was, Machi could handle her own.

“So, what do you think?” you asking while stepping in front of her view, eyeing the photos on the wall of coffee brews and of food they served here. Machi said nothing, still taking it all in. You didn’t push her, at least not until the waiter arrived with two menus in hand.

“Two?” She held up two fingers. You nodded, tugging on Machi’s sleeve to ensure she wouldn’t be in the way of the next customers to enter. You snapped her out of her trance, letting go of her immediately so she wouldn’t feel alarmed. She followed willingly after you and seated herself across from you in the chair closest to the wall. The waiter set your menus down on the glossy wood and pulled out a pen and paper pad.

“Can I get you started off with some drinks?” her voice was pitched in a friendly manner, fake and rather transparent. Machi took a quick glance behind the waiter even though her menu was right in front of her.

“I’ll just have some green tea for now.” she started, her hands playing with the edge of the menu.

“Just an iced mocha for me, thank you.” you smiled at the waiter as she wrote down your drinks.

“Alright, I’ll come back out when they’re ready.” she said, placing her paper pad back into her apron pocket and walking off. For a few moments, neither you nor Machi spoke. Both of you stared at your menus, searching for something to eat. You hadn’t really found anything to eat yet since you had been feeling picky lately when the waiter came up and handed out the glasses with your drinks in them. Machi closed her menu and set it to the side, her hands folding on the table and her back completely straight. Was something off? Did she sense someone nearby that shouldn’t be. She seemed to be relaxed but on the off hand she was awfully aware of her surroundings. Not that it was a bad thing entirely, it just made you nervous. It made you feel like maybe you should be more aware as well.

Machi plainly told the waiter what she wanted and then turned her attention to you. Blushing you stuttered out something you thought you might want, even though it didn’t sound entirely appetizing. You were more focused on Machi’s mood changes than on your order. The waiter said something you didn’t quite hear and then walked off again.

“Are you okay?” her voice broke through to you. You flinched at the sound. Her brow cocked up in judgement.

“Yeah... just anxious, that’s all.”

“I already told you, as long as you’re with me, you-”

“I know! But your mood keeps changing, like you sense something somewhere and it’s making me jittery...” you blurted a little louder than you wanted to, drawing the eyes of some people close by. Machi took notice of this but made no move to meet any of them. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry... I just wanna know what happened and you keep making it seem like whoever was bothering you is still close by.”

“He is.” her voice was completely flat. You shrunk in your seat, head and eyes down to avoid her own. The monotone change made you think you had upset her, making you feel insecure of your next moves.

“I’m sorry...” you mumbled it, you didn’t even know if she heard. Machi sighed, pulling her chair closer to the table and taking a quick glance around the café.

“Look,” she started, “he’s not an enemy, he’s an ally. He’s just been causing some trouble lately and he’s been following me around. He won’t hurt you or me, so we’re okay. I don’t know about anyone else though.” she explained. Her voice remained soft, an attempt to reassure you of your situation while still being honest. A part of you thought it worked as your hands and legs stopped fidgeting about the table. Everything was going to be okay. Whoever this ‘ally’ of Machi’s was couldn’t of been that bad if he hadn’t already shown himself. You tried to calm down some more, just to not create a scene for anyone else. Straightening your back, you leaned forward on the table like she did.

“Okay, can I get a name?” 

“No, that puts both of us in danger.”

“D-danger?” you uttered, feeling yourself shrink again. Machi’s eyes widened. She must of said something she shouldn’t have. Maybe she meant to word that sentence differently and just hadn’t thought about it. Either way, it made you start to worry even more.

“Hey, y/n, we’re okay. I’m right here. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you and I don’t think he’d even try to.” she tried again, trying to make sure you wouldn’t cause a scene. You tried to comply and calm down.

By the time you had actually managed to sit still, your food had arrived in front of you. Machi was already digging in before the waiter could set her plate down.

“You must have been hungry!” you joked, taking a bite of your own food, changing the attitude if the atmosphere once again. Machi didn’t laugh back, just hummed a yes in response, too busy chewing to actually speak. You giggled to yourself, hoping that whatever she was talking about earlier was just talk and that there wasn’t actually anyone there to bother the two of you. And if there was someone here, you hoped they’d just leave you be. You were having a good time with Machi, and you enjoyed her company. You didn’t want this to be ruined by some random stranger. 

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Twenty-Five

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warning for blood, violence, torture, death, death of a child, implied past sexual abuse, and pls dont hesitate from letting us know if we missed anything <3

Lev stared at the ceiling. It’d taken Cameron fifteen minutes to get out of bed that morning. Lev’d barely fallen asleep by the time Cameron woke and started his painful attempts to start his day, and now Lev couldn’t get back to sleep.

Lev snagged his phone off the bedside table, scrolling through his contacts. He shot a text to Amara and then set his phone down again.

Sighing, he burrowed closer to Nik, breathing in his sandalwood and ocean scent, as if that would make any of this easier. Nik gave a sleepy sound, tucking Lev closer so he could bury his face in Lev’s neck. For a few more minutes Lev let him, absently tracing his fingers down Nik’s sides, following tattoos and muscle until his growling stomach drove him out of bed. He lingered long enough to brush Nik’s blue-streaked hair from his face and kiss the exposed forehead. “Hey. Come get some coffee,” Lev said, tugging on Nik’s hair. Better to get him up now, before Eden woke.

Nik grumbled at him, but made a move to get vertical, so Lev pressed another kiss to the top of his head, cupping his cheek. Nik’s eyes were still closed when he leaned up for a kiss, but Lev indulged him.

“Come on.” Lev tried to sound stern. He was pretty sure he sounded more indulgently affectionate than anything else, but he did pull away, so if Nik wanted anything else-

Nik held out a hand, which Lev took, tugging him to his feet. Almost instantly Lev pressed a hand to his chest, not trusting Nik not to lean over and fall asleep on the ground.

“If I trusted you to walk on your own, I’d ask you to carry me,” Lev said.

Nik pouted. “I can carry you,” he whined, scrubbing his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lev said, steadying him as he headed for the door. “I’m probably getting a little big for that now anyway. Not just skin and bones anymore.”

“I’ll just get more muscle then,” Nik mumbled, clearly still half asleep. “It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so, dear,” Lev said, patting Nik’s elbow, and then tugging him away from walking into the wall.

“I do say so,” Nik said, with all the indignity someone ready to doze off on their feet could muster.

That was when Lev managed to steer Nik into the kitchen, where Cameron was making his way painfully to the counter. Lev sat Nik down on a stool, and then scooted past Cameron. “Go sit down,” Lev told him. “I can get the coffee.”

Cameron sent him a glare. “You go sit down. You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Lev said. “Sit. Down. I’ve got it. I- I wanted to talk to you both anyway. Before Eden woke up and all the chaos starts up again.”

“Make me,” Cameron challenged.

Lev looked at him, halfway to the coffee pot. “Cameron. Please? I’m- please. Let me do this. You won't let me do anything else to help.”

“Cameron,” Nik said, rubbing his temples. “Just sit down. It’s too damn early for this.”

To Lev’s relief, Cameron sat down, even if it was in stony silence. Lev moved around in equal silence, mechanically making the coffee and pouring them both a cup. He grabbed a stool and sat down, pretending he didn’t notice how Cameron had watched his every move. Lev waited until Nik had gulped down half his mug before clearing his throat.

Lev rubbed his palms on his pajama pants, and then said quietly, “I texted Amara to come pick me up.”

Cameron didn’t even blink. Nik frowned, clearly trying to process what the hell Lev had just said. “Why,” he finally asked.

“I need- I need some time. Some- some space.” Lev did his best not to look down. He owed them that. “I can’t think- I can’t think here, and- and I’m not being much use right now. I need to step back and just- I need to figure some- somethings out.”

“Are you breaking up with us?” Cameron said dryly.

Nik shot Cameron a dirty look, and then looked back to Lev. “Are you coming back?”

Lev hesitated, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “No- I mean, yes, I mean- No, I'm not breaking up with you, yes I plan to come back- I- I couldn’t stay away forever, I- I just need time. I need to think. So much happens around you both, and it’s all so much. I need to catch my breath.” He swallowed hard. “I know it’s shitty timing- but-”

“But?” Cameron pressed, just like Lev had been afraid he would.

“But I need this,” Lev finally said.

Cameron leaned back. “Fair enough. I can’t protect you anyway.”

“That’s not-” Lev wrapped his arms tighter around himself, closing his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” He hated himself, just a little, for how the tears pricked anyway.

“You don’t have to go.” Nik looked awake now. “You can stay. Why do you want to go? Is it because of yesterday? What I said to you?”

Lev shook his head vehemently, curling inwards. “No. No. It’s not that. It’s not you, either of you.” He scrubbed at his cheek angrily. “I just have to, Nik. That’s all I have for you.”

When Lev looked up, Nik was glaring at the counter. Cameron’s level gaze was on Lev, gauging him. Lev didn’t like the feeling.

“Take Eden with you,” Cameron finally said. “I can’t protect her either.”

“I can’t,” Lev said, softly. Even if it pained him so much it was hard to breathe.

Cameron nodded. “I’ll have Nate come get her,” he said.

Lev blinked. “Are you in that much danger?” He finally asked.

“What does it matter? You won’t be here. You’ll be safe with Amara.” Cameron’s tone was halfway dismissive.

“I wasn’t worried about me,” Lev said, sharpness entering his voice without his permission. “I’m worried about you. You’re hurt, and you won't let anyone lift a finger to help you. Are you going to just send everyone away and sit there until he comes back?”

“It’s none of your business,” Cameron replied, face blank.

“Nothing is ever my business,” Lev said, standing. “I just sit in confusion, and get to be treated like a child when I don’t understand what’s going on. Just because I’m not strong or fierce or good at making people bleed doesn’t mean I can’t handle anything ever.” He rubbed his face, sniffing hard. “Whatever. I need to get dressed. Amara should be here soon.”

“What’s going on is that I have an angry client who is upset I took his job,” Cameron said.

Lev had no idea what to say to that. Neither, it seemed, did Nik, who stared at Cameron with an openly horrified expression.

“Go get dressed,” Cameron said, struggling to his feet and heading for the stove. “You’re probably right.”

Lev watched him for a few heartbeats before spinning on his heel and walking out the door. That was exactly why he needed to leave. It was so damn hard to think straight around Cameron. Or Nik, for that matter. They left Lev feeling like he was always half a step behind, off kilter and so full of emotions he didn’t know how to process.

Once Lev got to his bedroom, Lev peeled off his pajamas, and went rummaging for his own clothes. All his this time, not Cameron’s or Nik’s. He settled on the edge of the bed once he was done, and buried his face in his hands.

---

Nik was still staring at Cameron’s back, horrified at what Cameron said, but he was also torn between that and going after Lev to get him to change his mind. Cameron was acting so unfazed about literally everything that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours and Nik wasn’t sure how to take any of it. “He’s going to leave,” Nik said.

“As is his prerogative,” Cameron said, trying to get out a skillet. “I’m not his keeper and I have no intention of forcing anyone to stay with me. If you want gone, too, then go. I can’t protect you either.”

“You called Destris a client.”

“Yes?” Cameron said, back spasming as he finally got the skillet onto the stove top. “I know what I said, Nikolas, I was there. Do you not know the definition of the word?”

“Yes, I-” Nik was at a loss of words. “Just. Fine. Don’t go anywhere. I’m going to go talk to Lev.”

When Cam didn’t say anything, just kept attempting to cook, Nik sighed softly and went to the bedroom, where Lev was settled on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Lev hadn’t even looked up when Nik knocked on the doorframe. “Do you remember when I told you you had to decide if you could handle being here during your heat? Is this you deciding?”

Lev finally looked up at him, shoulders slumping. “This is me trying to decide with a clear head.”

“What- what did I do?” Nik said. “Was it something I said? Did? Annoy you one too many times?” Nik tried for a smile. “Is it because I said you were gross for not liking coffee. It was a joke. I promise you can just like your milk and honey and I’ll just judge you in silence.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Lev said. “Neither did Cameron.”

“Then why,” Nik said. “Why now. Something happened and now you’re leaving us. You don’t have to go, please don’t go. I love you.” Well, Nik hadn’t meant to say that, but it was too late to take it back now.

Lev looked so hurt and he just stood. “That’s not fair, Nik. Throwing that in my face now. It’s not a magic band aid.” He went to grab a jacket. “I’m going to wait for Amara on the front porch.

Nik grabbed Lev’s arm before he pushed past him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Just. I’m sorry.” He let Lev go, though, and went to go to the kitchen where he dropped down on a stool and drop his hands in his hands.

“I’m guessing you didn’t succeed?”

“Probably got him to never come back,” Nik muttered.

“Sounds about right,” Cameron said, grunting as he reached for the eggs in the fridge. “Just let him go. If he wants to come back, then he will. If not, perhaps he wasn’t meant to be here for good.”

“I guess.”

Finally the telltale sound of Amara’s shitty motorcycle came closer and Cameron said, “Are you going to tell him goodbye?”

“No,” Nik said, face in his arms. “He probably doesn’t want me to after that.” When Lev didn’t come in to say he was leaving, and when the motorcycle started getting far away, Nik said, “See?”

Cameron flicked him a look while he started slicing up avocados. “Go get my phone.”

Nik slipped off the stool and wandered around the house until he found Cameron’s phone still speckled in dry blood. “Of course it is,” Nik muttered, making his way back to the kitchen. “Here.”

Cameron finished up his avocado and then took it from him. He put the phone between his ear and shoulder while starting back up on cutting up the… vegetable? Fruit? Whatever the fuck an avocado was.

“I am well aware of the time, Nathaniel,” Cameron said, coolly. “No, I don’t care that either of you are sleeping, either. I need you to do something for me.” Cameron paused, looking unimpressed at whatever it was that Nik could imagine Nate was saying. “Get Eden. Keep her for a while. I don’t know, Nate. If I did I would give you a set time that I’d be picking her up. Consider it open ended. There isn’t anyone I know competent enough to take care of her for me. Good. Goodbye.” Cameron promptly hung up and put the phone on the counter and continued chopping up the avocados. “He’ll be here in a few hours. I’ll finish breakfast and then get her ready.”

“So you’re really doing it,” Nik said. “You’re giving my brother the baby? Our baby?”

“It’s the right decision with Destris still in town,” Cameron said, neutrally. “You won’t let me kill her and I can’t protect her. It’s the only choice left.”

“I can protect her,” Nik said, defensively. “I am just as dangerous as you are, and apparently more dangerous than you are since you refuse to raise a hand to your sadistic brother and refuse to let Lev heal you because of your damned pride.”

Cameron’s eyes flicked up at that and it was an effort to not shrink back at that ice cold look from him. “You can protect her?” he asked, coolly. “You? Who can’t even handle a minor injury without drinking two extremely strong drinks because you got too upset?”

“Did you seriously just call what you had a minor injury,” Nik said, staring at him.

“I’m alive and on my feet,” Cameron said, moving back to the stove with the diced up avocados. “So yes.”

“You’d be dead if it wasn’t for Lev and Sazra,” Nik countered. “Your back just got resplit open and all your fingers broken, and stars know what else. Do not tell me that was a minor injury, you fucking liar.”

“We don’t lie to each other, remember,” Cameron said, completely unfazed at Nik’s blatant yelling. The pan sizzled as Cameron dropped the chopped avocados into the vegetable oil. “Just because you can’t handle a little pain, doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“You need so much therapy,” Nik said, still staring at him. He wasn’t sure if he felt bad for him, or if he was disgusted or just enraged at Cameron so clearly unable to see how flawed his logic was.

“No I don’t,” Cameron said, moving around the food with a spatula. “What’s a therapist even going to tell me what I don’t already know. At the end of the day the clock can’t be turned back, so it doesn’t make a difference.”

Nik hated that he couldn’t think of a damn counter to that. He had the same logic for it, but it didn’t sound right coming out of Cameron. “Whatever,” Nik said, plucking a cooked avocado cube out of the skillet and popping it into his mouth. “If you want to be that dense, so be it.”

---------

After breakfast, Cameron made his way back to Eden’s nursery, taking longer than he cared to admit, but found her awake, sitting and chewing on a new stuffed animal. She laid her eyes on him and started waving around her chewed toy and squealing at him. Cameron grimaced. “Good morning to you, you little monster,” he grumbled, picking her up and carrying her to the changing table.

He made quick work of changing her diaper despite the pain lacing through his body. But he had a schedule to keep, and he was going to keep it. Eden, luckily, seemed to realise that Cameron was injured and kept her wiggling to a minimum.

He managed to get her stuff packed in record time and decided to use the remaining time sitting in the rocking chair with her feeding her. Eden contently took to her feeding with enthusiasm. He used his foot to rock the chair slightly. “Hopefully the angel will keep your schedule with little change,” he told her. “If he doesn’t, you have every permission to raise hell with him.”

Cameron liked to think the glint he saw in her eyes was her agreeing with him. When they finished the bottle, Cameron went ahead and changed her once more, just to be safe, and carried her and the diaper bag out to the kitchen where Nik was in fact waiting with Nate. Nate stared at him, but his face was neutral in almost a flash. “She ready?” he said, trying for a light tone that didn’t sit well with the expression on Nate’s face.

“Clearly,” Cameron said, blackness cutting around the corners of his vision while he shrugged the diaper bag off his shoulder and handed it over to him. “There’s clothes, diapers and everything else you need. I also included her schedule. I trust you can read? If not I’m sure Bay can for you.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “I can even tie my own shoes, too,” he said, shouldering the bag and going to take Eden from him. He brought her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “You ready, Baby?” he said, smiling down at her. “I bet we got plenty of toys for you to destroy.” Eden’s shrill giggle made Nate’s eyes crinkle. But that smile instantly evaporated into solemness when he looked back at Cameron, then at Nik. “She’ll be safe with us. I promise it.”

“Well good,” Nik said, bitterly. “Because apparently neither of us can protect her.”

Nate opened and closed his mouth, wanting to say something but deciding anything he had to say wouldn’t suffice. He just nodded in the end, lightly bouncing Eden. “I’ll send you updates,” he said, to both of them. “Good luck with whatever’s going on.”

Nik quickly got up from his spot on the stool and came over to press a kiss to Eden’s white hair. “I’ll see you soon, Baby. Promise.” He looked up to Nate. “Thanks, man. I won’t forget this.”

Nate shrugged. “What’s family for?”

-----

As if they could sense Lev’s mood, Reneé and Cin tiptoed around Lev as he curled up on the couch. Even Amara was subdued, and Lev almost swore she was hovering. Reneé had fed him, which he appreciated, but it only made him more homesick for Cameron’s cooking.

Eventually, though, they all just piled up on the couch, squishing Lev in the middle. Someone constantly had their hands on him, patting his hair and purring softly. Not home, but safe enough for now, even if his omega was unhappy he was so far from Cameron and Nik.

Lev buried his face against Cin, sniffling abruptly. Amara bit down on his shoulder, and then asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lev shook his head sharply. “I just- I need to think.” He sniffed a bit more, and then mumbled, “Maybe after a nap.”

“Yeah, maybe. You look like you only got fifteen minutes of sleep last night,” Amara replied teasingly.

“I did,” Lev replied.

Amara tugged at him, made him look at her. She searched his face, blue-grey eyes hard and serious for once. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just tired,” Lev said in a small voice. “I want to sleep. Please?”

After waiting Lev out didn’t get Amara anywhere, she sighed. “You want the couch or the bed?”

“They’re about the same level of comfortable,” Lev muttered.

At least she laughed at that. “Maybe they’re a good influence on you after all.” She ruffled his hair. “Listen. Reneé is officially late to school. Cin and I are going to drop her off, and then we’ll be back. We’ll be gone an hour, tops, alright? I’ll wake you up when it’s time for lunch.”

Lev made a face. “You’re not going to try to cook, are you?”

“Nah. I’ll use your card to order out,” Amara promised as she and the others peeled away. “Sleep here, sleep in my bed, sleep in Ren’s. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Okay,” Lev said, closing his eyes when Reneé pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “See you later.”

Without them, the apartment, tiny as it was, felt vast. No matter how tired he was, he couldn’t get comfortable. Not on the couch, not on either of the beds. There was nothing to eat in the kitchen and nothing to watch and nothing to read; Amara must have been late on her cable bill, and Reneé unfortunately had a much different reading taste from Lev.

Restless and irritable, Lev grabbed his jacket and scribbled a note for Amara to call him if she needed him. Maybe a walk would clear his head. So on a walk he went, following familiar streets blindly until he realized he was standing on his old porch, staring at a door he knew damn well was still broken.

After blinking a few times, he pushed the front door open. The living room was dark, but Lev could still see the old stain on the floor. He let out a small breath, and shut the door behind him, flicking on the lights as he padded deeper into the house. Once he reached the kitchen he hunted down cleaning supplies; cleaning helped him think, and maybe, one day, he could sell this place and be rid of it forever.

He wasn’t sure how long he was on his knees cleaning before he admitted defeat. He’d gotten all he could up, and if he wanted to sell this place it was likely that he’d have to replace the carpet entirely. At least now, though, it wasn’t crusted with his own blood, and merely damp as hell and stained.

Sitting back on his haunches, Lev wiped his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying again. It made sense, though. Even now he swore his back twinged with the ghost of Remi’s blade. He was putting the cleaning supplies away when he heard a knock on the front door. Only after a moment of debate did Lev skirt around the damp patch in the carpet and open the door a crack.

A tall, dirty blonde man stood there. He was smiling faintly down at Lev, head slightly cocked to the side.

“Can I help you?” Lev ventured, just to be polite. He couldn’t place why he looked vaguely familiar, and a pang of guilt had him opening the door a fraction more. Had he just forgotten who this was?

“I was wondering if I could use your phone to call my brother? My car broke down,” the man said in a too-pleasant tone.

Lev hesitated. Something... something wasn’t right, and he was tempted to shut the door in this man’s face. He could smell that this was an alpha, and that only left Lev more wary.

Lev must have hesitated too long, because this strange alpha leaned closer. “It’s the middle of winter. Are you really going to leave me out here?”

That was enough Lev winced, mumbling a quick, “Sorry,” out of habit. He dug around in his pocket, and fished out his phone, sliding it through the crack. Surely an alpha would understand why an omega would be so damn wary of a stranger on his porch, and even if he didn’t that was not Lev’s problem.

The alpha flashed him another small smile, and started dialing. Lev couldn’t hear the dial tone, and barely caught whatever he was saying, but a chill went down his spine when he heard the alpha murmur Cameron’s name.

Already Lev was suspicious, and it took mere seconds to bounce to a chilling conclusion. In a flash Lev shoved the door shut and scrambled to hook the chain in place. The doorknob might be broken but the chain could buy him-

A shove against the door sent Lev stumbling back before he could even slot it into place. Lev could almost see it, now, what Zareth had said about it being Cameron, but worse. He bolted despite the leisurely stroll Destris was taking, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and twisting the lock shut. A futile shove at the window told him it was jammed in a way that wasn’t natural- but how...?

Deciding now wasn’t the time to ponder about that, Lev looked around the room frantically. As he tried not to panic, he heard a knock on the bedroom door. “What’s wrong? It was just a phone call,” Destris said, voice syrupy sweet.

Lev’s hand dropped to his pocket, before he realized with a small omegan whine that Destris had his phone, and his landline phone was in the kitchen. He couldn’t call for help.

He was moving for his bedside table when Destris opened the door with a sharp twist to the doorknob. Lev froze, pressing his back to the wall and keeping the bed between them.

“Why are you so afraid?” The demon asked casually. “I can smell the fear on you.”

“A strange alpha just broke into my house,” Lev said, scooting closer to the bedside table. His voice shook. “Why wouldn’t I be afraid?”

“Am I really all that strange?” Destris cocked his head again. “We’re practically in-laws.”

Lev stilled by the bedside table, gripping the corner of it tightly. “I don’t know you,” Lev finally managed, trying to keep his breath steady and failing miserably. “And I don’t trust you.”

“Oh?” This time Destris arched a brow. “And you know Cameron? There’s plenty you don’t know about him.”

Lev wrapped his hand around the little lamp on his bedside table. He threw it as hard as he could, and scrambled over the bed, trying to make it out the door. Destris merely sidestepped the lamp and stuck out his foot. Lev barely managed to keep from falling on his face, twisting so his shoulder took the brunt of the fall instead of his face, or worse, his wrists.

Dazed, Lev didn’t get the chance to scramble up before Destris loomed over him, looking amused. “Carrying precious cargo, are we?”

It took Lev a few precious seconds of confusion before Lev blurted out, “No?” He scooted back, trying to get room to stand. Surprisingly, Destris let him stand, even if he kept prowling closer, green eyes glinting.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Destris asked.

A cold shiver went down Lev’s spine. He opened his mouth, and tripped over the coffee table before he could say anything. Stupid. He should have been moving closer to the front door. He started edging that way instead, keeping an eye on Destris. “I’m not pregnant. There’s no way.”

“You’re an omega. I’m sure you’ve taken many cocks up the ass. There’s plenty of ways.”

Lev shook his head sharply. “No,” he said faintly. “My family- we don’t- it takes so long for- I’m not fucking pregnant.”

Destris gave him a slow once over, chuckling. “You certainly look it.”

Lev didn’t even have a response for that. Had it been any other time he would have been offended at the comment about the weight he’d gained from all the food Cameron had insisted he eat, but today he just yanked the front door open and tried to make a run for it.

Destris didn’t even stop him. Lev made it all the way to the neighbors front door, and when he looked over his shoulder, Destris had his hands in his pockets, stalking across the yard with a fluid grace that sent a shudder through Lev.

To his surprise, the door slid open before Lev could bang on it. Horror hit Lev a second too late as he stepped inside, the scent of rotting honey slamming him to a halt not two steps in the parlor. He gagged, hitting his knees as he stared at what used to be his neighbor- and her daughter.

Lev’s stomach lurched as he stared, too sick to move. “No,” he whispered, still taking in the sheer amount of golden blood splattered all over the place.

“They were in my way,” Destris said in a bored tone from behind him.

Lev fought another heave of his stomach, reaching for the infant. “They wouldn’t have hurt you,” he said, choking back tears. He drew his hand back, hugging his stomach as if that would help anything.

“They were angels,” was all Destris had to say, as if that excused this slaughter.

Lev turned around, hands clenched. “She was a single mother. You killed a child. They wouldn't have hurt you.”

“No one can hurt me. Cameron wouldn’t even hurt me.”

“Then why,” Lev rasped. “Why?”

“Because I can,” Destris replied easily.

Lev’s sharp, “Fuck you,” was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He flinched immediately.

Destris’ small smile did nothing to ease the twisting of Lev’s stomach. “Why would I defile myself with an angel when Cameron is right there?”

Lev flinched again, drawing back. “What do you want?” Lev demanded weakly, even as he stood on shaky legs.

This time Destris’ smile grew. “I want to hurt Cameron,” he replied.

That was more than enough for Lev, who turned around and made to bolt for the back of the house. He wasn’t ready for Destris to catch the back of Lev’s hoodie, yanking hard enough Lev choked.

“This is a really poor choice in clothing,” Destris said, before tossing Lev to the side. Lev landed directly in the middle of the glass coffee table, which shattered beneath him. Shards of glass cut into his hands when he tried to get up, and he could feel blood sliding down his face. Before he could get his bearings, Destris fisted a hand in his hair, and dragged him out of the pile of glass.

As Destris started dragging Lev out the door, Lev latched onto Destris’ wrist, trying to pull free. Destris wasn’t having any of that, and slammed Lev’s face into the doorway. Lev saw stars, but that wasn’t enough, because Destris tossed him down the porch stairs, letting Lev crumple in a heap, too dazed to move from the concrete sidewalk he’d landed on.

“You should be more careful, little bird,” Destris mocked, descending the stairs leisurely.

Lev pushed himself up. He’d fucking crawl if he had to, even if his head was spinning so much he wasn’t sure if he’d know which direction to go. He didn’t get far before Destris’ foot connected with his side, sending him sprawling again. Lev blinked up at him when Destris crouched beside him, grabbing Lev’s face.

“Are you alright? You’re bleeding,” he said with faux concern, swiping his thumb through the blood on Lev’s cheek. He popped said thumb in his mouth, eyes glinting. “I can see why Cameron bites you so much.”

“Let me go,” Lev said, unable to keep the panicked, pleading tone from his voice.

“Why would I do that, when we’re just getting to know each other?” Destris purred. Abruptly he yanked Lev’s head up, latching onto Lev’s throat with his fangs. Every instinct of Lev’s was screaming: he went limp out of sheer self preservation, giving a high pitched whine that was nothing short of pure omegan submission.

When Destris pulled back, his lips were shiny with golden blood. “Much better. I should bite angels more often.”

Lev closed his eyes tightly, well aware of Destris’ hand in his hair still, and of the blood gushing down his front. As Destris dragged him back towards Lev’s house, Lev tugged his magic up, hoping what he had left from healing Cameron would at least be enough to close up the wounds he had now. He was lucky: by the time Destris dropped him on his living room floor, he’d closed most of them, including the vicious bite to his neck.

Lev looked up at Destris, breathing hard and already crying silently. His omega whined deep within him, and he listened, arching his neck slightly in a show of terrified submission. Anything to keep Destris from lashing out again. Posturing like that had worked with violent alphas before, after all.

“Do you bare your throat like this for Cameron?” Destris asked. When Lev didn’t say a damn word, frightened and unwilling to provoke him further, Destris mused, “You’re too scared. I guess I should look like someone you trust.”

As he spoke, his features shifted, just enough. In a single blink, Lev was staring up at Cameron. His breath caught, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. That wasn’t fair.

“Is this better?” Destris asked, and it was Cameron’s voice Lev heard.

“Please,” Lev whispered, holding very still.

Destris crouched, grabbing Lev’s face gently. It didn’t- those were Cameron’s hands, and those should have been comforting, were comforting, weren’t comforting.

“Stop crying,” Destris ordered- Cameron- it was his voice, and Lev hated that it worked, hated that his tears stopped. He held still, too afraid to say anything. It didn’t make- he didn’t understand- it shouldn’t have-

“Good boy,” Cameron- no, Destris- said, sending a shiver down Lev’s spine. That little smile was too- it was wrong, on Cameron’s face.

“No,” Lev said in a tiny voice, pulling at Destris’ grip on his face weakly.

“No what? Don’t you love me?”

Lev pulled back a second time, even as his eyes filled again. “No. You’re not Cameron.”

Destris’ grip on his face never faltered, though the hands holding him changed. “Is this better?” Nik’s voice asked.

Lev jerked back again, shoving at Destris’ chest with one hand. In the next heartbeat Destris had snapped his fingers. Lev screamed, hunching over, but Destris wouldn’t even allow that, stopping him with a palm to Lev’s forehead. The next sob that bubbled up damn near choked Lev as he stared up at Nik’s face, vision swimming.

“Let me go. Please,” Lev whimpered.

To his surprise, Destris did. For a few seconds Lev just curled inwards, shocked by the release and overwhelmed by the pain. Nothing happened, even when Lev tottered to his feet. It was a game, Lev realised with dawning horror. Destris really was going to just let Lev walk right out that door and drag him right back in.

That didn’t stop Lev from stumbling past and down the porch, though. He made it to the mailbox at the end of his yard, and Destris had barely even stepped onto the porch. The demon was definitely just toying with him.

Lev leaned against the mailbox anyway, forcing his fingers back the way they should be with a strangled cry, and forced healing down his hands. They’d be fucked up and crooked, but at least the pain eased. He tossed another glance over his shoulder, in time to see Destris shift. A massive black panther was now loping across the lawn.

Lev bolted this time, but he didn’t even make it ten paces before the solid weight of Destris’ demonic form hit his shoulders, sending him face first into the sidewalk. Claws pricked through his jacket, a warning. The hot breath on Lev’s neck was a warning too.

Destris grabbed Lev’s hoodie between his teeth and started hauling Lev back towards the house again. Lev twisted, despite the futality, scrabbling with the zipper until he tumbled free. He barely got to his feet before a lazy swipe of Destris’ paw sent him sprawling again.

As easily as a cat would flip a beetle, Destris rolled Lev onto his back, planting a massive paw on Lev’s chest to pin him there. Practically hyperventilating, Lev stared up at him, unable to take his eyes off the fangs Destris flashed at him.

Maybe he should have, because a moment later claws were digging into his stomach, shredding the soft flesh there with little care of what damage it caused. Lev thrashed, shrieking as he shoved up against Destris, and only got his arm clamped between the demon’s jaws.

Pain radiated from both, stronger than it should have been, and only growing worse. Lev barely registered Destris dragging him back up the stairs. The pain swelled until it was the only thing was aware of, and by the time it faded to a steady pulse of agony he could think through, he’d lost all grasp of how much time had passed.

When he lifted his head, his breath rasping in his throat, Destris was seated in one of his arm chairs, watching him over the top of one of Lev’s battered romance novels. Blood caked off of Lev as he tried and failed to push himself up. His magic was moving sluggishly, barely any left, which explained why his stomach was still oozing yet more blood steadily. Rather than keep pushing, Lev dropped back down on the floor, exhausted. He could taste blood, the sickeningly sweet flavor flooding his mouth every time he gave a wheezing cough.

“Do you imagine Cameron wooing you like these characters?” Destris asked. Lev couldn’t muster up the energy to reply, Destris added, “He’s not capable of it.”

Lev closed his eyes. “I’m not stupid,” he finally croaked. “I know he isn’t. I don’t expect him to.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “He doesn’t owe me a damn thing.”

Destris gave a laugh. “The mark of true love.”

“He doesn’t love me,” Lev said after a long stretch of silence. “I don’t expect that either.”

“I didn’t say he did. Cameron doesn't and can’t love anyone. You however, do love him. And that is why I can play with you.”

Lev didn’t have an answer for that. He pressed a hand against his stomach, curling inwards on himself as he coughed hard. When he wiped his mouth with his free hand, it came back gold. He mumbled against the carpet, "What have I done to you? Why are you doing this?"

Destris closed the book. “You’re ruining my bastard with your soft heart.”

It took several seconds for that to process, but eventually Lev managed, “Eden?” He shoved a hand underneath himself, biting back a sob as he forced himself to sit up so he could stare at Destris properly.

“No,” Destris said, amused. “The other one.”

The sarcasm in his tone made Lev wince. “There’s nothing wrong with teaching her to be kind,” Lev finally said tiredly. “You could benefit from a few lessons yourself.”

Destris’ smile did nothing to calm Lev. “Are you offering?”

“Are you actually willing to learn?” Lev shot back, pressing his hand against his stomach harder, willing the last of his magic to close up at least the outside of his wound. There wasn’t much he could do about the internal bleeding, not right now.

"You dont need to teach me how to fuck you. But if you want to bad enough, I can offer that kindness."

Lev flinched, eyes going wide. “I- that’s not- that’s not what I meant.”

Destris cocked his head, watching Lev. “Isn’t it though?”

“That’s not a kindness,” Lev said, unable to lift his voice above a whisper.

"That's the kindest thing I could do for someone who's destroyed countless numbers of my people."

“I wasn’t- I never fought in the war.” Lev pulled his hand away from his stomach. Barely scabbed over, the best he could do. “I don’t hurt people. Angel, demon, human, witch. I don’t- I don’t do that. I won’t.”

“All Angels are guilty in the gods' eyes.”

Lev didn’t know what to say. He had no defense. It wasn’t his fault who his parents were, and it wasn’t fair to blame him for that. Not that Lev’s silence mattered. Destris seemed bored, standing. Before Lev could register what he was doing, he planted a vicious kick in Lev’s stomach, tearing open whatever Lev had managed to heal, and making everything far worse. Lev crumpled with an awful wheeze, choking on the too-sweet taste of his own blood.

"Broken toys have no use to me,” Destris said, leaning over Lev’s limp form.

It was several minutes before Lev realized he was gone. It was several more before he could drag himself towards the kitchen. Destris still had his phone, but Lev had always been old fashioned, and he had a landline around here somewhere.

When he found it, he yanked the cord that plugged the base in until the cordless phone toppled to the floor beside him. It took more than one try to dial, but eventually he curled up on the floor, one hand holding his stomach closed, the other holding the phone to his ear.

When the other line picked up, Lev closed his eyes, whispering faintly, “Cam- Cameron? I made a mistake.”

tagging: @idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @livvywrites @halstudies​ @alittleyellowdinosaur

[revol-lover]

i know i have become a shit post queen but this site is a good place to just dump thoughts when i’m too lazy to actually write them down so don’t mind me. also i’m “ok enough”. like i’m not ok-ok but i’m not like badly not ok. 

ok? anyway.

so idk what it is. being raised by emotionally distant parents esp my mom or the depression thats probably also related to that but man i just feel so empty for such long periods of time. empty, or maybe detached is a better word. and just really really restless. and also that when i have good emotions, i dont feel them all that much. idk. sometimes i feel like i’m on the outside looking in on my life. i have a lot of feelings but then at the same time i dont. maybe because i repress a lot then it all builds up and explodes. idk. its awful though. 

i also feel like i have two very distinct sides to me. half of me is like fuck this shit i just want to self destruct but i wont because i’m too responsible to do that and the other half is like wow life is so interesting i am a spirit not a body and i want to be an enlightened being. neither of those sides of me is less me than the other. neither is a farce or anything but its fucking hard for those two sides of me to coexist. the only middle ground, which is probably like 1/3 of the time how i feel, is blah. neutral to absolutely everything.

and i think ive talked about this before but before the whole corona/quarantine thing i was at this extreme level of DONE with feeling isolated in my life, esp as a sahm. done with falling into the trap of believing being a mom was my whole identity (and its definitely a part of it, of course. but i think its unhealthy for moms to think its all we are) like i totally lost myself for a while. my daughters birth being traumatic and her having potential life long complications (and ‘potential’ meaning, her diagnosis is so complicated. theres never going to be a time where we get a real “all clear”. some kids have developed seizures again way down the road, especially at certain ages where kids go through a lot of development.) and then ofc just raising a child with all of that going on, plus normal toddler craziness, plus having a kid who is super hyper and smart and amazing but parenting after having a difficult relationship with your own mother is one of those things that is really hard and not talked about enough. i never feel like im doing enough. i never feel like she likes me.i know thats so stupid but i really am that insecure about my parenting, no matter how hard i try. i just want my child to love me and sometimes toddlers do things that make you feel like crap (ex ‘i dont want u mom i want daddy!’ and i can rationalize it, dad’s the exclusive parent. i’m just here all the time like the furniture. i get it.) and its just a big complicated thing with my emotions. not what i was trying to say tho i got off track.

anyway the isolation thing. so i had a plan. a plan!!! i have this one awesome long time friend, honestly my only friend outside of my husband who knows me like the good bad and ugly, has known me for a very long time, and has been there for me through some really tough shit. he’s like the brother i never had, truly. (i have a biological brother but we dont really talk.) so i talked to him about things i was going through and he’s also been going through a challenging time in his life and he told me he’d help me get out there. we were going to force me to learn to socialize and make friends in “real life” by putting me in those situations. we were going to go to some poetry club. a show downtown. like i was ready. then corona happened. and my already crawling out of my skin isolation got worse because hey we cant do anything now, not even see my one friend. 

so yeah. i was fine in the beginning of all this because i figured, hey by may itll be over! then hey by june! then maybe 4th of july. which has become, my daughter is so excited about her birthday party in august and i dont even know if i can throw her one and i dont know how to deal with this or explain it to her.

i know this is major first world problems and im all over the place and i document this dumb shit because i hope one day i’ll be so far past it and be able to look back and think well wow i made it through 2020  but yeah idk

i think part of it is i’m turning 27 in two weeks and my saturn return thing is just getting so close and i’m starting to see the beginning of shit in my life crumbling underneath me. like i know what i gotta do. i  have to put myself out there. i have to get out of my safety zone. and i have to use my gifts to help others not just sit here drowning in my self pity but obviously its hard to challenge yourself and put yourself out there, literally, during a pandemic. 

and the last point which is just something that boggles my mind about myself that i dont understand. like i’m definitely depressed. i have very bad anxiety too. and even though i can be extremely self pitying and go into like a black hole of sadness, i still dont let myself do bad things. which is good, obviously. but its iike i’ve been recovered from self injury for probably about ten years but some days i am so deep in my shitty feelings or empty feelings that i just want to do it again but i cant. theres something in me that wont let me. and i guess im glad for that, obviously. i guess my life/universe/guardian angel is trying to force me to face shit for real and not just have shitty coping mechanisms but idk. like it was a bad outlet but idk. sometimes, just sometimes, i feel like it did more for me than just writing things out. which is bullshit because it did nothing for me except give me a bunch little permanent reminders of shitty times. but idk. that’s my brain for you. sometimes i want to just let it all go and be a mess in my feelings and not care if i’m ok but then my brain is like nope bitch you cant do that. youre not 17 anymore, get up.

and i know some people would read this (well no - no one would read all this lmao but in a theoretical sense) and think like, oh did you try therapy or oh maybe try meds and the thing is 

therapy - i tried it. i liked the idea of it. bad fit with the therapist tho. didnt like being kicked out after 45 min (which i understand but bitch i need more than that to explain one problem) and it felt weird to be told by her, that she felt like i had a good handle on things. cause i dont really feel that way and i feel like she didnt have much to tell me  in terms of how to idk fix myself besides journaling, which i’ll give her. it helps

meds: i i dont really want to go that route yet because my body is really sensitive to medication. like i dont even take bc or anything like that. however i think ive decided that since its super legal and obtainable i might try pot once we are able to move into our own place. so if anyone did actually read this far and have experience with that (esp w anxiety) please enlighten me. i had some samples of some cbd stuff and it was amazing for my anxiety but it’s way too expensive for me to use consistently.

this has been a very long shit post but i feel better so theres that.

[harryisntstraight]

Bethan, i need your updated version of the larry timeline right now (or as soon as you have the time to do it lmao)

my timeline still stands as follows:

2010-2011: happy as well…..larry……everything is new and exciting and a tad overwhelming but they’re gross and obsessed with eachother and maybe a little bit scared about what exactly this feeling is but it’s mostly all just a joke and a laugh and louis can brush it off as nothing when maybe the touches linger a little bit too long. knows he hasnt felt like this about anyone or at least not any boy before put puts it down to the weird circumstances they’ve found eachother in and the intensity of the whole experience and the fact that harry is just harry and everyone seems to be at least a little bit in love with harry. harry doesnt think too much about anything when it comes to louis bc he’s just too busy lapping up all the attention he gets from him and bathing in it and feeling warm warm warm and it’s not like he can see any reason why that might have to stop and he’s enjoying it too much in the mean time

2012: things start to get more overwhelming and a bit more scary but now there’s not the excitement or the newness to blame it on bc they’ve been living together for ages and it’s harder to pass off a drunken kiss as just that when it was only one pint and louis has been noticing harry staring at his lips since before they even moved in together. and other people notice it too and that starts to become something neither of them really know how to handle. people online talking about them has been happening since day one but it keeps getting louder and its harder to laugh it off when it almost feels like if things were different there might be some truth to it. but there isnt. because louis has a girlfriend and harry has sort of had girlfriends and even though all harry wants to do sometimes is crawl into louis bed he can’t bc eleanor is there and she’s always there these days and its not like he can tell her to go away. maybe one night it all comes to a head when they’re back from tour and are alone together for the first time in too long and maybe they’ve had something to drink and they’re exhausted and stressed and don’t know how to get back to the way they were before. and harry will say something stupid and reach out to touch louis face and then they’re kissing but only for a second before louis is pushing him away and wont look him in the eye. harry shouts at him and its weird bc he never shouts and thats when he knows he has to move out

2013: they dont live together anymore and neither of them know if they’re even really still friends and that might be the worst part because before they were anything else they were best friends. harry has new best friends now and they’re cool and trendy and older and take him to gay bars and talk about things he’s never talked about before and thats when he starts to find himself, or at least think about finding himself. doesnt know if its coincidence that thats when he loses louis. they’re friendly at work, on stage and with the band they can laugh together and crack jokes but neither can remember the last time it was just them by themselves. they’re in eachothers heads a lot, probably too much and sometimes louis will even dream about harry but its always like he’s looking at him through murky water. features a bit distorted and never within touching distance. something stopping him from reaching out. harry will still catch himself staring at louis occasionally but he has other things, other people to keep him occupied for the most part. sometimes he’ll get home at four in the morning to an empty flat and he’ll think about how louis would always want a cup of tea as soon as they got in and how harry was always the one that made it for him. he’ll fall asleep on the sofa with his jeans on to the sound of the kettle clicking as it boils in the kitchen

2014 - 2015: harry grows his hair long and louis thinks it looks ridiculous but wonders how soft it might feel to touch. rolls his eyes at the way harrys always winding it through his fingers. the band are breaking up, and it’s bittersweet. as are most things these days. it was harrys suggestion and first louis was angry and then he was relieved and then he felt guilty and then angry again but now he thinks he’s alright with it. he knows that when it’s over him and harry are over. knows harry won’t text him or call to make plans and knows it would hurt his own pride too much if he tried because harry wouldn’t humour him with a response. so he tries, really tries to make the most of what time they’ve got left together. chats to him backstage, laughs at his jokes in interviews, even goes as far as to say his name on stage once. and at the final show they both know it’s coming, was inevitable really. they go in for the hug and just before it happens harry catches louis shrug at him nonchalantly, like he’s doing harry some kind of massive favour by wrapping his arms around him one last time. harry almost expects to feel something and it catches him off guard when instead it’s just nothing. no aching or longing for a few seconds more and he doesn’t even realise until later it was the first time louis had properly touched him in years. louis does. the smell of harrys aftershave is overwhelming and he can feel the sprinkling of stubble on his jaw brush against his. their knees bang together and louis can feel the hot skin of harrys back through the cotton of his shirt. harry pulls away first and louis wishes everyone else in the arena would fuck off so he could say goodbye properly

2016: harry texts louis ‘Congratulations, hope everything went well. You’re going to be a great dad. - H x’ and louis doesn’t text him back. he opens the message so the notification clears but he doesn’t respond and he doesn’t delete it. just leaves it there. louis doesn’t have harry’s number saved so for once the H sign off actually comes in handy. harry drafted and deleted the text 8 different times before he sent it. contemplated calling but didn’t think he could bear it. he doesn’t get upset when louis doesn’t respond. never really expected him to anyway

2017-2018: harry doesn’t really party that much anymore. has been busy with work and the album and the tour and prefers smaller social gatherings with a couple of friends. but one night he finds himself out in london with old school friends, dipping in and out of clubs in soho. louis parties a lot these days. it makes him feel good and he likes the loud music and new people and how he feels a bit more weightless. the last person he expects to bump into is harry and for a moment he really doesn’t even recognise him. he looks out of place but comfortable with it and without thinking about it louis is calling him over. they chat for a while about nothing important before harry says ‘well it was nice seeing you again’ and louis knows it was a lie. ‘yeah mate, you too’ are their parting words before harry disappears into the sea of people inside a nightclub and louis thinks maybe if this was a few years ago he wouldn’t have let him leave so easily

2019: they don’t think about eachother apart from when they do. and when they do it’s few and far between. maybe harry will open twitter and louis will be trending and he might read some of his tweets. he can close the app and louis will stay tucked inside it, no thoughts of him sneaking out and sticking to harry the way they used to. and for louis, it’s mostly the same. harry is harry and everyones a little bit in love with harry, you weren’t special for that, he tells himself. on the odd occasion he fantasises about the future, about being properly old and seeing harry again. having some kind of heart to heart and apologising for hurting him, for hurting eachother. they were so young back then but he still feels young now, like everything still needs time to sink in before either of them are ready to dig it back up again. for now he’s happy, and harry is happy too. it happened the way it happened and neither of them can change the past. if they were supposed to be friends, they probably still would be. and they would miss eachother more than they do now. there’s always going to be a bit of one in the other, etched into their skin like a white scar that never seems to fade away. and perhaps they like it that way

[shortieondawave]

J. Cole Short

08-19

Part 1 of ….

The darkness covers the skies as I punch the gas petal; a red plastic cup not inches away from me giving me the leisure to sip in peace whenever I feel the desperate need for the Royal Crown to consume me once more. My mother would probably have a temper tantrum knowing the amount of liquor I’ve downed in the night alone.

Thank goodness she lived her life and gone on to hopefully watch over mine; especially in times like these. If she’s doing the job everyone says; I won’t wreck this $145,000 R8 on the streets of 1-4, causing a scene and while giving the some of those here in Miami exactly what they want most; the angry-tempered man finally reaching the end of his chances. What most won’t admit is, I once built the same cliffs, bridges, and brought water to the rivers that I’ve burned, torn, and swam across to get to a better end. More importantly they won’t give life to the times I’ve held tightly to ones that meant the most to me before becoming Earth’s very own man-storm.  

No one remembers the good.

My stepfather preached that to me and my five siblings the entire fifteen years he spent in our world. I didn’t realize how serious he was until it was too late and I was faced with the truth that as long as you take care of those that are around; you can replace God himself and they’ll knell before you. But once you say no, even to the smallest task…you’re no longer the King you once were. You’re nothing more than a burden that’s holding them back, even when the truth is, you’re the reason they’ve gotten so far.

The timid sounds of J. Howell’s RedRoom entered into my thoughts are the memorized lyrics of “Faithful” surfaced into my mind. I slowly felt my lips moving, no words came out, but the lyrics of that song came so easily in my intoxicated state.

Please dont let it, don't let it go too far

Cause I don't wanna give up

Please don't make it, so hard……

Please don't let it, don't let it go too far.

My numb body is now gaining feeling as the words register, tears building in the corners of my eyes as if my vision isn’t blurred enough. Voices continue to tell me to pull over, allow my body time to rest and sober itself, take it slow. It’s no ordinary warning either; I can feel the nervous and emotional wave washing over my body as if it’d the final warning of life itself.

My left hand left the steering wheel, my leg taking its replacement as I managed to press the repeat button. I put my phone on shuffle over an hour ago just so I didn’t have to worry about picking and choosing anything myself. This is the first time the pick was something meaningful; thus far I been in a uncomfortable mood of random Kodak Black singles, T.I.’s classics, even some mixes of Jeezy, Nipsey, and Dave East. Nothing had been this sentimental.

Regardless of my state; I did make it home. The gates opening as my fumbling finger found the correct button after three minutes and five attempts. I didn’t park the car nearly as straight as I could; but that’ll be something for me to worry about tomorrow. Right now, finding the correct key for the front doors and relaxing in this crisp cool air is my only priority.

“You managed well,” The whispered tone stopped me, causing my blurred vision to leave the tangled keys in my hand and settle on the now wide-open door with a five-four figure standing in front of me.

I hated her voice right now and usually I’ll kill with my bear hands for the sound; it brought peace in a world of drama. Love how clam it is regardless of what she’s going through. I guess those college years working for 911 Dispatch paid off. Never is it sarcastic, never shouts at anyone, never belittling to the other person. It is just perfect for a man after a stressful day.

“I was wondering how well you’ll get home.” Mentally I heard myself respond; telling Nicole to go home firmly and continuing to step into the two story home, however managing to close one of the double wood doors behind me. I could tell from her facial that I was confusing her, the simple dismal never confronting her.

I said that the beauty was never rude or argued, not that her face didn’t say what her mouth wouldn’t.

“LeParis…you’re drunk. Rick and Chad called looking for you two hours ago saying you left the office upset. I called you well over a hundred times for sure. Plus, Chad called and I know he did because he came by and sat here for over an hour hoping you’ll show up.”

“Go home Nicole.” I heard it come out that time.

We all have been around each other since sometime in grade school; growing up here in Dade-County. Nicole was a 911 Dispatcher for the city after we graduated high school, turned registered nurse, and graduating from University of Miami along with myself and Chad in 2013. Within the last year and only four years on the job, she has land the position of Head Nurse at Holtz Children’s Hospital. And just from the looks of it she hadn’t made it home since getting off because her black scrub coat lay idle on my kitchen counter; matching her slacks and white button down shirt.

Interesting.

Whereas Nicole has always been a people-person, helping and healing as I like to call it; Chad and Rick were like my identical non-related, brothers. If they had truly been here earlier, I knew not to expect them here now. Not that there wasn’t any or even much concern, but we know each other well enough to know it’s not necessary to wait and neither is it uncommon for a man to take a drive and drink after a stressful day.  I’ve known Richard since we were in diapers; our mothers were best friends, also making him my god-brother. Chad moved down from Tallahassee, Florida when he was only eight, moving with his grandmother and enrolled into the same school that Rick and I attended. As the bad-ass that only seemed to need some tender-loving to control his anger, it wasn’t long before he was “like-able”. My late mother and Ms. Patricia showed him the way. My mother being a high-school school teacher and Ms. Patricia being a licensed therapist they tweaked out his anger and got him on track. He’s been adopted into Dr. Melvin Patterson’s family since middle school once his grandmother lost custody, a family that my mother has known since she started teaching.

We were all close; however never so close that the emergency key given for emergencies only should be used outside of such.

“You’re drunk LeParis, I’m not going nowhere. What’s the matter with you? Why would I leave the offices, if you’re intoxicated and for God’s sake you drove around for over two hours? Can you at least tell me why?”

“I can tell you to go home one more time before I put you out.”

My slumped body fell to the couch, the plush blanket falling over my torso as I finally laid down; my eyes hurt from the lights she had turned on and the nausea feeling was finally settling in.

Nicole was killing my drunkenness.

“Well…goodnight then. I’ll lock the door behind me.”

See? No fight, no loudness; not an inch of stubbornness lives in this girl.

 “I’m sure Ryan is home waiting on you anyways. You come running and waiting as if this is my first time getting drunk. I’m not a child. I think I can handle some liquor and a drive.”

“Well, Ryan knows I came here to check on you,”

“Nicole you said it yourself, you’ve been here for a few hours. That’s not checking on me. That’s waiting and I don’t’,”

“Okay, Paris, ok.” The voice cut me off, followed by a sigh of defeat.

“Be safe.” That was the last thing she said before I heard the sounds of heels hitting the marble floors and the closing of my door.

[neverendingparable]

Warning: Mentions of self harm, suicide, suicide attempts and well, basic Office shit. It’s basically a summarized version of Bradley’s backstory up until the Office which Ezra tells and laments, before he goes in after him. If you dont want to read it, you can skip the whole italic part. 

“Recording from the Magnus Institute, London. It's the 25th of January, 2020, 11:05 AM. Alice Nero, head Archivist cataloging. 

Statement given by a supposed Ezra Jaxden, November 2017, regarding the disappearance and eventual return of his partner Stanley Spencer. Further notes are at the end of this recording. 

Statement begins. 

‘No one believes me. Not the cops, the hospital, or even my own mother. You won't, either. But I'm sure even if you do think it's bullshit, you’ve had worse stories submitted by lunatics talking about ghosts and giant spiders. I- I just want someone to listen. That's all. Even if you don't believe me. 

… I'm all alone again. Bradley stayed for little while, but he told me he was going back. That he couldn't stay away. The…Office had made him a prisoner in more ways than just his mind. 

Bradley and I knew each other since kindergarten. My mother and I had moved from Montana down to Colorado, and I was ecstatic to find a friend right away, even if he was a dorky weirdo. He was loud, bratty even at that age and full of life and ideas. I’ve known him for decades. I was his only support when he came out to me, when he transitioned against his parents’ will. I was the one he’d come to with scars on his arms and legs, hell, I’d even talked him out of ending his life several times.

But I've never seen Bradley Spencer look so dead as when he came back from that twisted Hellhole. I barely recognized him. How can four fucking years change someone so much?? 

He disappeared late 2013, on the way to work. I didn't notice until he stopped responding to my increasingly worried texts. I called the police and they searched high and low, even his mother’s house. Nothing. Eventually they got wind of how his mental state had been in and when his car turned up, abandoned a few weeks later, they came to a conclusion. 

Bradley Spencer had killed himself. His body was most likely rotting under layers of autumn leaves, or eaten by wildlife. 

I hated it so much. I didn't believe he would just go and end his life without even saying goodbye. Sure, I would have stopped him, but our last text was about plans to see whatever shitty horror movie was playing that night. 

I know Bradley. He would've ended it with at least a shitty pun or joke to make me hate him---

I lived with grief for years. I rented his apartment in desperation and kept all his stuff just the way it was. I visited therapists and lost myself in my music career. I was getting better slowly. Gave up his apartment after two years, kept only his most prized possessions. I even thought about dating again. 

And then, one night. He just appears at my door. Malnourished, dirty, freezing from walking in the cold weather with only a purple sweater. 

He begged me not to call the police, instead he just wanted to stay with me for a while. He wouldn't let me help him shower, even as his legs trembled with exhaustion. That hurt but I didn't argue. 

When he did come out and I hugged him, I couldn't help but notice how much he changed. He cried for a while. I did too. 

He told me awful stories of the Office. Stories of torture and monsters. How death was pretty much nonexistent, so the people there killed each other in fights or just because. Otherworldly beings who twisted your mind and turn your worst fears against you. Mind control. Experiments.. And alternate versions of yourself, some of them hating you just because you ended up spared from whatever fate they suffered.

I know, it sounds ridiculous. Monsters aren't real, same with gods and aliens. No one can simply not die. It’s impossible. But looking at him, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was telling the truth - or at least the truth he had experienced.

It hurt. But not as much as it did when, a few weeks later, he told me he was going back. He had become addicted to the taste of what he called ‘Restarts’, the feeling of being unstoppable to bodily harm and I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant he was craving the freedom, or the pain he could get without suffering permanent consequences. 

I did everything I could to make him stay. I even threatened to call the police on him, to have them drag him to the nearest hospital. But none of it helped much, in the end. He disappeared again shortly afterwards and this time, knowing where he went was worse. 

I don’t really know why I came here to your Institute of ‘ghost stories’ to tell you what happened. Or well - maybe I do. Maybe you already figured it out, but I’m going in after him. I already lost him once, and I don’t want it to happen again. Even if I have to go live in Hell incarnate, it’s better than being without my best friend. 

But before I follow him, and before I disappear off the face of the Earth, probably for good, I just wanted someone to know what happened. And maybe you know about the Office already. Maybe you can do something to keep more people from disappearing into It. 

Either way, thank you for listening. I feel much calmer now and I think I’m ready to go make that drive.’

Statement ends.

I can tell you right off the bat that this is either a really sick attempt at making a joke, or someone’s being downright sadistic. 

Bradley Spencer never grew up in Colorado, USA and his boyfriend Ezra Jaxden never lived in there, nor in Montana. Neither of them disappeared, as well. 

How do I know this? Well, because shortly before coming to record this, I talked to one Bradley Spencer in the break room while he was busy placing plastic insects into the tea pantries. Ezra Jaxden is often at the Institute, despite not working here, but he likes to drop off snacks for his partner or take him out for lunch. 

So you see, someone either thought it was perfectly alright to use their names for their fake statement, or they thought it was funny. I would suspect Bradley himself smuggled this in here to rile me up...but there are some sensitive topics in here I know he doesn't like to talk about, much less have strangers listen to. 

Anyway, I won’t be releasing this to the students. I’ll take it to Bradley first and then Maelle to see what--”

A steady rise of crackling stopped the Archivist in her tracks. She gave an annoyed huff and smacked the tape recorder a few times with her hand. 

“Oh come on, don’t do this again!”

It ignored her attempts to fix it and continued hissing loudly. She rolled her eyes in irritation and picked it up, muttering a few choice words under her breath. If the tape was affected too, she could look forward to recording it all over again if Maelle deemed it necessary.

“Bradley!” She leaned back and shouted at the door. “Bradley, come take a look at this! It’s making weird noises again!”

A few moments ticked by with no response, no door slamming or dutiful footsteps down the hall. 

“Oh give me a break.” Alice Nero got to her feet and made her way to the door, ignoring the increasingly violent hisses and crackles from the recorder. She swung the door open and stepped out of the Archive room, ready to raise her voice again and get Bradley to come down here-

The call came out as a strangled, bewildered whimper. The pale, bright hallways of the Institute were gone, replaced by tacky wallpaper and old carpets that smelled like a mixture of dust, generic cleaning brands and spilled coffee. The smell alone overwhelmed her and Alice let out a gag, fumbling back for the door handle without looking. 

She pulled it back open and stepped inside - only to find herself standing in a broom closet. 

“What-”

She looked around, but there weren’t any other doors in sight. Checking again, the door she had apparently just come out of (she must’ve, as she was standing in front of it this entire time) only led to a poorly stocked broom closet and nothing else. 

Panic started to overtake her. 

“Bradley?? Stellan? If this is some sort of really sick prank, I swear, I’m going to kill both of you in the most painful way possible!” She opened and closed the door several times, but the scenery never changed. 

There were two other doors in that hallway, one that led into a meeting room, the other to a staircase. Neither of them seemed more familiar to Alice and with a sinking dread, she realized that her exit dissolved into thin air.

“Okay.” She gripped the tape recorder tighter and started making her way through the meeting room, down the hallways. “Somewhere there’s got to be an exit. You just have to find it, Alice! You just...have to find it to get back.”

[onfleekson]

Protect them from Him.

(Female Reader x Josiah Trelawny)

Part 3

Note: I’m taking a pretty lengthy detour from reader x Trelawny, but I really really wanted to dive into the relationship between the MC and the lost brothers.  The lack of information about the Callander boys left my imagination running wild and before I knew it I was in love with the idea of them.  By part four Trelawny should be back in the story.

Part 1: https://onfleekson.tumblr.com/post/185357527185/i-dont-drink-wine-note-this-is-my-first-piece-i

Part 2:  https://onfleekson.tumblr.com/post/185582503865/my-lady

 Getting into Blackwater did make you a bit nervous.  The patrols were active and numerous.  They checked every stagecoach that went in and out, but it wasn’t difficult to fool them into believing you were some rich city girl from New York.  “Terribly worried about my husband you know.  The ranching business seems to be the thing nowadays, but my husband’s never been ‘round no farm animals before.”  You bat your eyelashes at the men from behind your fan.  “Don’t tell anyone I said so, it would hurt his pride terribly.”  The patrolmen blush and send you on your way.

As you near the town, memories of the failed heist begin to materialize before your eyes.  As you pass the harbor… ‘This was where Dutch killed…’ you shake your head and slap the fan closed, gripping it tightly in your lap.  ‘Now is NOT the time, (Y/N).’   

The stagecoach driver arrived at the hotel and he helped you with your bags, walking you to your room.  You tip him and he leaves.

You freshen up a bit then head out to do some scouting.

The best place for information was at the bar, but a bar was no place for a lady.  You’d get noticed and, at the very least, harassed.  You could take off the disguise and risk getting caught, either way you were going to have to think of another way to get in without being noticed. 

Throughout the day you spend your time doing normal “lady” things, trying to stick around the crowds and eavesdrop into conversations.   

“I heard that most of the van der Linde gang escaped, but they have some imprisoned.”

“I heard they weren’t getting any information from them, and what’s the use of a jailbird that won’t sing?”

“I heard the government sent the Pinkerton Agency to deal with them.”  “Well if that’s the case they won’t last very long, I heard they were clearing out gangs faster than the speed they’re running.”

The same rumors circulated around for most of the day.  You just hope some of them weren’t true.

When night falls, you return to your room. You sigh in relief taking off the heavy dress you’ve worn all day.  You put on something comfortable and discreet.   You put your hair up and wear your widest darkest hat, to be able to hide your face when needed.  You bind your breasts, put on a black flannel and black vest.   You throw a thin dark cloak around your shoulders and head out.

 Being out in the dark was your specialty; you’re quiet and quick. Most importantly you understand the severity of the consequences if you’re caught.

In the shadows, you survey your target.   The bar was lively and loud, surely with talk of Dutch van der Linde and his men.  Outside, near the front doors, there are patrolmen drinking, repeaters hanging off their shoulders.  Farther down, towards the side of the building are the drunks that had been kicked out the bar.  Some passed out, some attempting to maintain their balance against crates and barrels.  Blending in with them would most likely be your best bet.

 You quickly sneak your way near the drunks, careful not to disturb their… peace.  You take a bottle and douse yourself in liquor, your tear up your clothes a little and wipe some dirt on your pants and boots.  You put some dirt on your face because… well won’t hurt nothing to take extra precautions.  Finally, you lean yourself against the building in a “drunken stupor,” carefully sliding closer and closer to the patrolmen. 

 “Well Jameson won’t be happy about handing this over to the detectives, says Blackwater’s officers are more than capable handling the business on their own.” The group of men erupt into laughter.  “Just as capable as they were when the gang shot up the place and escaped?” They laugh again then they become silent quickly.  A couple of the men take a drink, one of them takes a drag.  “I’ll be glad when they’re all dead and this is all over with,” one of them says solemnly.   “Or behind bars, like the two we have now,” says another.  The solemn one scoffs.  “One of them.  The other one’s dying as we speak.  S’possed to be recovering from gun shot wounds, but I’ve made sure he suffers every day for his sins.”

You take a peek out of the corner of your eye and get a look of the man.  He’s a burly man with a large brown mustache and a hard face, it seemed permanently set into a state of seriousness.  

 “Suffer?  Bronson, you’re supposed to be guarding the man not killing him.”  He turns to the speaker with ferocity.  “YOU weren’t there to clean up their mess! None of you had to bury the bodies they massacred that night.  Had you been there, you wouldn’t be calling them men.  The whole damned lot of them are monsters!” Bronson storms into the bar, most likely for another drink.  You feel like you need one too. 

You take a drink from the bottle you’re holding.  You’re going to need it for the stupid shit you’re about to pull anyway. “Dutch forgive me if I die,” you mutter under your breath as you stumble into the bar. No one pays attention to you.   Brunson just finished a shot of something dark, then he makes his way out behind the bar.  You follow him.

 He’s taking a piss behind some crates. No one’s around.  You sneak behind the man and cover his mouth before killing him, making it quick.  No need to make a hurting soul suffer.  You hide his body, and take his clothes and gun.  You pull his uniform over your clothes quickly.  The uniform’s a bit big, but you tuck it where it needs to be tucked and fold it so the size wasn’t so obvious.  You take another drink, and then head to the jail.

 The security was unusually lenient.  The men were probably tired from the constant patrolling, you tell yourself as you walk in.  There was a man outside at the door who didn’t question you as you walked in.  There’s one man at the desk, resting his eyes, and another standing by a jail cell.  It’s dark inside, you’re grateful for the cover. 

 You make your way quietly over to the man guarding the cell.  You bring your hat down a little lower. “I’m here to relieve you, Bronson’s orders,” you say in a deep voice, praying it works.  The man nods, obviously tired, gives you a set of keys and walks off.  You look after him, making sure he’s out the door before you turn to the prisoner.  It’s Mac, and he wasn’t in good shape.  

 You take another peek at the resting officer at the desk.  He seems to be out cold.  As quietly as you can, you open the cell door and slip inside, crouching down to the level of his face.  “Come to do his dirty work then,” Mac croaks.  “There’s no use in digging your knives through me, I can’t feel no more.”  He turns his head slowly to look at yours.  The big tough man you once knew was no more than just a body waiting for the sweet release of death.  You can see it in his eyes; in the way his body slumps against the wall.  His face was just about lifeless, his dirty blonde hair was a knotted mess, falling over his face and tangling with some of the hairs in his beard.  Your eyes meet, and what little life Mac could muster twinkled in his eyes. 

“I’d say you were just a vision, God’s last gift before sending me to hell.  But if anyone’s capable of sneaking into Blackwater and into my cell, it’d be you,” he whispers as he smiles.  “Mac…” you begin, but are cut off by the lump forming in your throat.  You clear it.  “I’ve been a real cry baby lately you won’t believe…” you try again, laughing as you attempt to cover the shakiness in your voice.  But it doesn’t work.  “My lady…” he says.  You smile sadly. “You know I ain’t no ones lady.”

You pull out Davey’s pistol.  Mac looks down on it blankly, understanding. “So he beat me to it then,” Mac says.  “You know we agreed it was supposed to be me giving you my gun before I died, but… I suppose I can’t blame a brother for bein’ selfish.” 

 “Jenny’s gone too,” you say. 

“I knew the dear wasn’t going to make two shotgun slugs to the stomach. Anyone else?”  You shake your head, looking down.  “They’re holding Sean in some camp near here, I don’t know what they plan to do with him.  You won’t be able to save him yourself.”  He looks at you seriously.  “I mean it (Y/N), don’t be going out there on your own.”  You look back up at him. Despite his weak state, you can feel the determination in his eyes. You nod reluctantly.  “I’m here for Trelawney, and…” you trail off as you try to count the wounds, visible under his thin shirt.  He smiles.  “Darlin’, you can’t take me back neither.  Ain’t no use dragging my corpse back to camp.” 

“Mac-” you begin to plead, but he cuts you off.  “My pistol is in the safe they keep around this corner, the code is 12, 36 and 89.  Take it, and go and get Trelawny out of here as soon as you can, he’s camping out in a shack down by Quaker’s Cove.  They’re sending more Pinkertons down here soon.  And when they get here, they’ll be coming after ya’ll.  The gang needs him, (Y/N), despite how you feel about the man.”  Mac takes in a labored breath and winces in pain.  You place a hand on his shoulder.  “I ain’t got much left in me, Darlin’,” he wheezes, out of breath.  You hush him and place a hand on his face and rest your forehead against his cheek.

 “Thank you Mac, for- for all of it,” you whisper.  “I’ll always remember what you and Davey’ve done for me.” You gently place a kiss on his forehead and with great difficulty you force yourself to stand up and move towards the door.  “Darlin’,” Mac calls out to you.  You turn your face. “Protect them,” he says.  “I know Mac,” you say.  “No, (Y/N), protect them from him.  From Dutch.” 

 You freeze.  You know what he’s going to say next, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear.  “You saw her, you held her body when it was blown to pieces by Dutch.  I don’t know what happened, but he’s different now, a kind different you can’t change nor fix,” Mac says bitterly.  “Dutch did what he had to-” you start.

 “There was no need for her to die, for all them folks to die, but he shot her and set the whole town off.  I know you’re pushing her back in your mind where you can’t reach her, but you know it’s true.”  There’s a pause.  “Her name was Heidi, remember it.  When Dutch starts actin strange, remember her name.”  You turn to Mac.  “I’ll protect them Mac, I promise,” you say.  He nods at you.  He looks relieved. 

 You go and take his gun from the safe, and as you’re making your way out through the back door you take one last look back at your friend.  He seemed to be less lifeless now and more peaceful.  You know by this time tomorrow the Callander brother’s will be reunited once more. 

As you take one of the patrol horses and ride off, you hear the town bells ring and police whistles go off. They’ve found the body, and they’re calling every man to arms to find the murderer. “Come on old girl,” you plead for the horse to go faster. The pounding of her hooves matched the fast pace of your heart as you ride out into the darkness. Completely out of reach of the town’s lights, you welcome the natural shroud of the night as she escorts you to safety.

[turtle-steverogers]

In the SPOTlight

this is for my main bitch, @labert-dasilver ‘s, birthday.  thank u for being my partner in crime, the other half to my chaotic duo, the al to my race, the angst filter to my wild 3 am ideas.  i truly don’t know where id be without u.  happy birthday, queen!!! i love you

oof ima note that i’m basing the workings of this off my own theatre director and cue to cue and shit yeah #theatre life

warnings: none

ship: sprace

editing: nopee

“Alright, we’re running Step in Time!  Full tech,” Medda Larkin, Manhattan High’s theatre director called through her megaphone from the top of the house, “Why isn’t Antonio on stage, and Sean!”

Spot Conlon peeked his head out of the booth, “Yes, Miss Medda?”

“Why are the house lights still up?”

“Sorry! Sorry,” The house lights lowered gradually, until only the lights on stage and cyc lights were up.

“Thank you!” Spot shot a thumbs up out of the booth and turned back to the lighting board.  At that moment, Racetrack Higgins ran on stage, looking entirely frazzled with his button down shirt untucked and suspenders half on.  He had a broom tucked under his chin and he was struggling to straighten out his costume.

“Antonio, where were you?  We can’t start Step in Time without our Bert,” Medda reprimanded, her voice coming out tingy through the megaphone.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Race called, sheepishly, snapping his suspenders up and propping the broom over his shoulder, “I misplaced my old broom so Whiz had to find me another.”

“God bless Whiz,” Medda sighed, “What would we do without her?”

“Crash and burn, probably,” Finch called from one of the spots.

“Anyway, we all ready?” Medda called, drumming her fingers haughtily.  Race and Katherine, their production’s Mary, called confirmations and the music started up.  Race began to sing, his voice filling the theatre, but as soon as he started, Medda called for him to stop.  The music cut out abruptly and Race and Katherine blinked at each other in confusion.

“There’s supposed to be a spot on Race,” Medda said, “Who else is on spot besides Finch?”

Spot grumbled to himself, sticking his head out of the booth to peer at the other spot booth.  It was empty.  Figures.

“Uh, looks like Romeo isn’t doing what he’s supposed to,” Spot called back, “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Medda answered, growing impatient, “But we don’t have time for this.  Get someone else to do it!”

Spot let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his short hair, “Uhhh, fuck, uh Jack?” He turned to his crewhead that had previously been scrolling through his phone on the mildewy futon that they kept in the booth.  They really had to replace that thing.  

“Yeah?” Jack said, looking up and abandoning his phone beside him.

“Could you take over the lightboard?  I gotta go run Romeo’s spot.”

Jack shrugged and wordlessly plopped himself at the station.

“Thanks, man,” Spot said, already jogging down to Romeo’s vacant position.

“Is everything handled?” Medda asked.

“Yep!” Spot shouted.

“Lovely,” Medda placed her megaphone down, “Start at the top!”

Race and Katherine scrambled back over to stage left, Les and Smalls, who were playing Jane and Michael, on their heels.

The song restarted, this time with both of the spots, and everything went smoothly until, “Sean Conlon, why is the spot still on Antonio!  It’s supposed to be on Katherine, you know, the one actually dancing right now!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Spot called, blushing.  

“Back to the top!”

Race and Katherine exchanged exasperated glances as they slumped back over to their starting position.  They made it through almost the entirety of the song when, “Sean Conlon, for the last time, get the spot off of Mr. Higgins and on Ms. Plumber!”

Race smirked in the direction of the spot that had been following him almost feverishly for the past two minutes, “Hey, Spottie, for someone literally named after his craft, you’re pretty distractible.  I mean, I understand that these pants really make my ass pop, but you still gotta do your job correctly.” Spot felt his face heat up as he watched Katherine smack Race’s arm.

“Nah, just highlighting your ugliness,” Spot retorted, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice.

“You’re really bad at comebacks,” Race called smugly, “‘Specially when you’re flustered.  I can’t see you, but I can practically feel your blush.”

“Screw you, Higgins!”

“You wish, Conlon!”

“Alright you two,” Medda interrupted, waving her hands to stop the boys’ bickering, “Keep the flirting to your own time.  We need to finish this scene.”

This time, Race blushed as well, but they set up for the beginning of the song nonetheless.  No mistakes were made this time, no doubt a result of Spot attempting to avoid further ridicule.  The actors hit their final pose and Spot slowly brought down the spotlight, then jogged back to the booth to bring up the house lights.

“Thank you for finally pulling that together, guys,” Medda addressed the cast and crew, “Take, say, fifteen minutes to break and then we’ll plug through the rest of the show with tech.”

Spot let out a breath of relief as everyone dispersed.  Cue to cue days were always long and breaks were far and few in between, so it was nice when they were finally granted one.  He grabbed his water bottle and exited the booth to refill it.  When he got out, he found Race standing by the water fountain, eating an apple.

Butterflies bubbled in Spot’s stomach upon the sight of his long time crush up close, but he ignored them and feigned confidence, “Aye, Higgins, no eating in costume.”

Race looked up in surprise, hastily moving to hide the apple, but stopping when he realized who Spot was, “Whatever,” Race said, biting into his apple.

“That’s no way to treat your resident lighting designer,” Spot said, bending over to fill up his bottle, “Ya know, actors should really learn to respect us techies more.”

Race quirked an eyebrow, “And techies should learn to follow the correct actor when working the spotlight.  I mean, c’mon, Spottie, am I really that irresistible?”

Spot straightened up, a new sort of challenging intensity in his eyes, “Yeah, actually, you are.”

Race’s eyes widened and he reached forward, pulling Spot in by the front of the shirt.  Before their lips could connect, one of the assistant stage managers, Elmer, peeked his head through the stage door, “Five minutes.”

Spot and Race didn’t break eye contact as they answered, “Thank you five!”

There was a moment of tension where neither boy moved, then Spot leaned in and kissed Race.  The taller boy melted into the kiss, releasing his grip on Spot’s shirt in order to hold his hips.  Their lips fit together soundly, and Spot could feel the butterflies spark up again as warmth spread throughout his body.  They broke apart after what could have been hours, both of them smiling serenely.

“Hey,” Race murmured, “I think I’m a spotlight and you’re on lighting crew ‘cause you turn me on.”

Spot furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, taken aback, “Was that a lighting pick-up line?”

Race nodded, “Sure was.”

Spot threw his head back in laughter, Race joining him a moment later, “Real classy, Higgins.”

“Ah suck it, Conlon.”

TAG LIST:

@bencookisagod

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@yxseminx

[samwinchesterisourhero]

Sam WInchester: The Reluctant Hero

When we wonder in frustration, as to why Sam seems to suffer more than Dean does, instead of being angry at a narative bias, or assuming the show runners hate Sam, take into consideration that Sam and Dean, though equally heroic, are different types of heros  Dean is a willing hero. He has been proud of his job as a hunter since he was young, even if sometimes he was bored with it, or would have liked to persue a career as a machanic. From what we see in flash backs, Dean was boasting “Im a hero!” since high school, where Sam just wanted to be like every other kid.  Sam’s first choice in life is not to be a hero. Not directly anyway. He was studying to become a lawyer.  Azazel said he was becoming a Tax Attorney, but Dean saw him as a Criminal Justice Attorney in What is and What Should Never Be, which I think is more fitting for Sam. The indirect hero that would get justice for the victims. He would make a wonderful psycholigist also. Dean would be a very good cop, or soldier, or first responder.  This is not to say Sam wouldnt run into a burning building to save a family, he most certainly would, but his interests seem to lie mostly in long term after care. So for Sam to be in the front line with Dean, is something he does because its the right thing, not because it’s his chosen life path (early life anyway. he has stated in his later life that he did chose this life for himself) and this makes him a reluctant hero. The problem with that though, is that in literature, the reluctant hero always suffers the most. 

Its no argument that Dean suffers too. Both brothers have broken my heart on many occasions, but Sam’s suffering over any event, stretches far past the season he suffers it in. This is so we, the viewers, have an idea as to how much of a hardship Sam is willing to endure to save Dean and to save the world.  Sam and Dean both willingly went to Hell, but their experiences were greatly different, and unfolded on the show wildly unbalanced. Dean sold his soul for Sam, so Sam would live. He didnt want to go to Hell, but he did it willingly. in Dream a Little Dream, Dean said to his dream self, that he didnt deserve to go to Hell, and even though he made the choice on his own, I think we all feel like it’s a horrible punishment for a guy who just wanted his little brother to live. I know I hoped they could find a way to get him out of the deal, but unfortunately, he didnt. He stayed in Hell for 4 months, or 40 hell years. He was tortured by Alistair for 30 years until he became a torturer himself. Cas raised him out of Hell, completely whole, even old scars were gone, but we didnt know for a while that the memories were haunting him. How did we find out? Because he told Sam. He tearfully confessed to Sam on more than one occasion, what happened, what he did, what it felt like at the time and how it was hurting him then. What came of it is that he got to confront his torturer, and even though he couldnt kill him himelf, Sam killed him for him. Dean got justice.  Sam on the other hand, also willingly went to Hell to save the world, but he felt like he was mainly at fault for breaking the world in the first place, when it was expressed that it wasn’t only him, and he was completely unknowingly breaking it when he did. He obviously didnt want to go to Hell, but he felt it was the right thing to do. What he got for that though, was his soul in Hell, canonically, for 1.5 years, 180 Hell years. He was torured by Lucifer himself in the most brutal ways imaginable. Cas raised his body, soon after he went to the pit, but we arent given an exact amount of time, whether it be an hour or so, or a few weeks, we just know he was physically out for the majority of the year, but I can’t imagine 10 minutes in the cage with Lucifer is a picnic. However, he came back incomplete, without his soul, which endured unimaginable torture. If that’s not enough, while soulless, Sam did things he wasn’t proud of when he got his soul back, and suffered with this, Once he got his memories of Hell back, a whole new level of suffering began.  How was this handled? To our knowledge, he never told anyone the details of his Hell tour. All we know about it, was shown in flash backs and hallucinations, that ended up driving Sam insane. Sam was “fixed” by Cas, by simply shifting the pain to himself, not by Sam talking about it, or confronting his torturer, or anyone killing Lucifer.  Sam didnt get justice in any sense, and he still carries all of this with him. He has even had to work along side Lucifer to try to stop Amara. No one even brought this up, even though Sam had very recently been back to the cage and had to face Lucifer and the trauma all over again.  Season 13 and still Sam hasn’t been given justice or seen closure when Dean’s was answered in only a few episodes. How can we not see the imballance? Well, when we look at it as Sam is the long suffering Reluctant Hero, suck as it may, it makes more sense. It plays into the narrative that the pain piles on Sam, and Sam stuffs it down. We ourselves may forget this happens, if the show itself didn’t bring it up.  The case of Tracy Bell for example. A girl that pops up out of nowhere in 9x2 for no reason than to remind Sam that he let Lucifer out and people got killed. I know a bunch of you blame the writers of the episode for that, as though they hate Sam or Jared, but that was part of the Gardreel story. Something that the producers must have told the writers they wanted. “Bring something painful up from Sam’s past, so that when he feels good at the end of the episode, we can be reminded that theres an Angel healing him from the inside” is probably close to what was said in the meeting. We the viewers need to be reminded that Sam never lets things go, at the same time as he never really speaks of them either.  It took 13 seasons, but Dean confirms for us in 13x4 that Sam doesnt admit things or it makes them real, and then he has to deal with it. Sam even confirms it himself in 12X3 when he says he knows Mom is burying herself in hunting instead of dealing, through years of personal experience. Now that we understand this is part of Sam’s character, we can better understand why we dont get to see his emotional POV very often, and his traumas rarely get worked out.  The differences between Sam being the reluctant hero, and Dean being the willing hero, manifest in many ways.  Dean gets very antsy if its been a few days that they havent had a hunt to go on. Sam however, is content to stay home researching. Their short time of trying to live a domestic life with their girlfriends shows reluctant vs willing also. While Sam was with Amelia, he had nothing to do with hunting except reading the news paper and believing other hunters were taking care of things. He refused to tell Amelia about that part of his life. Dean didnt hunt, but he kept it at arms reach. He kept devils traps in the door ways, a rosary in water under the bed and a gun nearby, and he let Lisa know all about that part of his life, and even tried to live it and maintain a life with her.  Dean is the kind of guy who will show you every scar and tell you the details of how he got it, while Sam will hide his scars. Dean suffers when innocent life is lost, but he holds on to the fact that he’s saved more people than he’s hurt and it can help him make it day to day. Sam feels like he failed if he didnt save someone. This is precicely why Sam suffers the burdens of his wrongs for years,  and Dean doesnt. Dean did a lot of crap while he had the MoC but he hasnt had to visibly suffer from it after the fact. Sam however, is reminded of his poor choices for seasons after the fact. Now since its not a matter of Sam goes to jail for things and Dean doesn’t, we only need to realize its part of maintaining a character trait for us, so we dont forget that Sam never forgives himself and suffers for years over what he considers failures.  Now, this willingness vs reluctance shows in their relationship also. Im not going to try to prove one loves the other more, because I am convinced that Dean is #1 in Sam’s world and Sam is #1 in Dean’s world and they love each other as much as any two people can love each other (to steal from the mouth of JP) they both take care of each other, and neither had to be told to do so. Even when Sam was too little to actually take care of Dean, he still did the best he could by wanting to be with him, and giving him gifts. Dean didnt have to learn 100 ways to make mac and cheese, he did it because he wanted to make Sam happy. That being said, lets move on… Sam’s reluctance in their relationship, isnt that he loves Dean less, or doesn’t want to protect him, but his biggest fear is letting Dean down. He can save Dean’s life a million times but considers himself a failure if he let Dean down. Dean’s biggest fear however is Sam dying. He can let Sam down, he can piss him off, but if Sam isnt alive and well, Dean considers himself a failure. When Sam assumed Dean was dead in S8 and didnt look for him, he was going on a promise that he wouldnt look for him. Since we didnt get enough insight to Sam’s state of mind at the time, Im going to assume that Sam was crushed that Dean was dead, but for himself, it was more important, that he didnt let him down by breaking that promise. He saw how angry Dean was when Dean thought he made a deal that raised him from Hell, so he “knew” Dean would be disappointed if Sam looked for him now. Dean however, needs Sam to be alive, so he will risk Sam being disappointed and possibly hating him, as long as he’s alive.  So now in S11 its brought up again, that Sam didnt look for Dean in Purgatory, and Sam hadnt forgiven himself for it, its not the writers hating Sam/Jared, its showing us that Sam still hasnt gotten over letting Dean down. He’s a long suffering character, and doesnt see that he was justified in his actions, but instead blames himself for inaction. This fits right into Sam not finding a Win in a case where he couldnt save everyone. He knows he helps more people than he hurts, but the fact that he hurts people at all outweighs the good in his eyes.  There will be a time Im sure, and hopefully soon, given the events of the last 2 seasons, that Sam may collapse under all this weight. Maybe he will have some time to voice how badly things hurt him. But if he doesnt. try not to write it off as no one caring about his character, but understand his character feels like a burden if he unloads to people, even, and especially to Dean, who Im sure he believes has enough burden on his shoulders, without Sam sharing his. So try to be patient my friends. This would come out differently if it was a written story. The writer would be able to show us inside Sam’s head easier than they can this way. The only way into Sam’s head is through someone vocalizing it. If Sam does, then we dont see him burying things, if someone else does, it sometimes looks like hes being picked on for no reason…. but there is a good reason. It’s to keep his character consistant as the longsuffering reluctant hero. By @missjackil

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The ‘What If’ Game

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1,536

Warnings: being drunk, fluff

Summary: You thought this was just another drunken night with your best friend. It turned out to be so much more.

Square Filled: Drunken Night

Author’s Note: This is for @spngenrebingo . This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

One of your favorite things to do was to hang with your best friend, Jensen Ackles. You weren’t an actor or anything like that. You actually owned a few chain restaurants around Texas. So, when Jensen was busy filming in Vancouver, you were running your business and when he was on hiatus, you were hanging with him.

There were times you would go with him to Vancouver and watch him film. But only if you knew you didn’t have any work lined up. You had a lot of people working underneath you that could handle things while you take off. You don’t do it often but when you do, you know you’re in good hands.

Right now, Jensen was in between season 13 and 14 which was good for you because you needed your best friend. You’ve had a crush on him since you met him. Actually, when you met him, you were such a huge fan of the show and a bit of a Dean girl. He was on hiatus with Jared way back when. He came into one of your restaurants and you got to talking.

You probably wouldn’t have met him if your head hostess hadn’t called out sick. You were filling in for her since it was a busy month for the business. It was hard to stay away from each other after that point. You found out he lived close to you and every single summer and Christmas, he got to spend it with you.

You two quickly became inseparable. You met Jared and Misha and even got a tour of the set. You needed someone like Jensen in your life because he was truly one of a kind. You two have been going on 5 years of being best friends. If you were being honest, he was your other half and you wish you could tell him that.

Confessing your feelings would be such a big step that neither of you could come back from. You knew something was between you two but you couldn’t exactly figure out what it was. You didn’t know if you were meant to be something more or if you should just stay friends. The only way you were going to confess to him is if you were drunk and right now, you were on the cusp of becoming drunk.

While Jensen is on hiatus, you two try and spend as much time together as possible. You would find yourself sleeping over at his place most of the time and he would sleep over at your place. You even had a drawer of your things in his room and he in yours.

“Okay, I know what this night needs.” You said, reaching for the vodka bottle. You took 2 large sips before handing it over to Jensen. He handed you his whiskey bottle and did the same.

“What does this night need?” Jensen asked, already drunk. At least, you thought he was.

“We haven’t played the ‘what if’ game in a while.” You giggled. You were buzzed but you wanted to be drunk for this. That’s when you get the good questions.

“Oh, good idea. Okay, I’ll go first.” Jensen said, facing you. You two were seated on the love sofa with your legs in his lap and his in yours. You were so comfortable and didn’t plan on moving anywhere else.

“Okay, hit me with your best shot.” You sang and giggled.

“Okay, what if dinosaurs didn’t go extinct, but instead was living on some remote island we don’t know about?” You laughed at this and took another sip of whiskey. You really shouldn’t be mixing vodka and whiskey but at this point, you didn't care. Tomorrow would be a chill day to get over the massive hangover you knew you’d have.

“I guess then the world would be in danger. They can fly, right? I think some dinosaurs could fly.” You tried to think of the name of it but it wouldn’t come to you.

“Okay, your turn.”

“What if you got fired from Supernatural? What would you do?” You giggled.

“Ouch,” Jensen said, putting a hand over his heart. “Hitting me right where it hurts.”

“Sorry,” You shrugged with a smile.

“Did I tell you I got an offer to be on Riverdale?” He said and your eyes bugged out of your head.

“No! Jensen! I am your best friend! How come you didn't tell me this? When did this happen?”

“Last week. I said no, of course. I can’t give up Dean Winchester.”

“Okay, well, when I’m sober we’re definitely talking about that. But it’s your turn.”

“So, what if tomorrow, we’re going about our day and everything seemed normal. But then a giant hole opened up in the sky and a swarm of aliens and robots came rushing down to earth to destroy us?” You busted out laughing, almost falling off the couch.

“That’s the plot of the first Avenger movie!” You laughed and took another sip of the whiskey before trading it for the vodka bottle.

“So? It could happen.” Jensen giggled.

“Alright, if it does then I’m letting them take you.”

“Hey!” Jensen playfully scolded you.

“There are no friends in the desert.” You smiled.

“Fine, if aliens invade earth, I’ll be the first to offer them to you,” Jensen smirked.

“Okay, I just don’t want them to do anything to my butt. I heard they like that sort of thing.”

“Where did you hear that? From someone who survived a night with aliens?” Jensen laughed.

“Hey! You hear all kinds of things,” You giggled. “Okay! My turn! What if we thought with our tongues and talked with our minds?” You laughed and got up on your knees before sticking your tongue out.

“Wanna hear what I’m thinking?” You giggled as you came closer to Jensen with your tongue out.

“Get out of here.” He laughed and pushed your shoulder. You fell back on the couch and laughed, the bottle of alcohol long forgotten. You were having too much fun being drunk and playing this game.

“If we thought with our tongues, the world would have a lot more children in it.” Jensen laughed.

“Oh yeah, because you wouldn’t hesitate to lick any woman you saw.” You rolled your eyes. Jensen got up and came at you with his tongue out.

“I can lick you.” He said before licking the side of your face.

“Ew! Jensen!” You laughed as you tried to push him off you. Normally you could but you were so drunk, you couldn’t even push a door open.

“My turn,” Jensen said, using his arms to hold himself off you so he didn’t crush you with his weight. You looked into his eyes and finally understood just how close he was to you.

“Make it count.” You whispered. You wish you could kiss him right now. Everything would be so much easier but you knew you would regret it in the morning. Or maybe you wouldn’t remember. Before you could make a decision, he was talking.

“What if we dated?”

“What?” You asked, hoping what he asked is what you heard.

“What if I took you out on a date? Like, I would take you to a really good restaurant or if you weren’t feeling hungry then I would take you on a boat ride or we could go to the beach or whatever you wanted to do because I want you to be happy. I would buy you dinner or lunch and we would spend the whole night with each other. Then, I would drop you off at home and I would want to kiss you but I would be so nervous. You’d kiss me anyways and we dated. So… what if we dated?”

You couldn’t even speak right now, you were in shock. You were becoming a little bit more sober with each word that left his mouth. This game was only supposed to be a fun game to play when drunk but he turned it into something you couldn’t come back from.

You knew this was Jensen’s way of confessing his feelings for you and if he was going to do it, then so were you.

“I would be the happiest girl alive.” You said truthfully. Jensen didn’t even need to ask and placed his lips on yours. You immediately kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You would have preferred your first kiss with him to be more professional and a lot less sloppy.

You would definitely have to do this again in the morning.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said as you pulled away from Jensen’s soft lips.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I want to do this right. I don’t want to be drunk. If you still feel the same in the morning, I’d be glad to go out with you.” You smiled.

“Who said I was asking you out?” Jensen asked with a smile.

“Come on, let’s go to bed. I really want to continue this in the morning.” You said and Jensen got off you. He helped you up and walked with you to his guest room. This game will have a totally different meaning for you now.

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The Queens:

@mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @crispychrissy @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @notnaturalanahi @tahbehonest @posiemax @vonthesupernaturalwriter @li-ssu @just-another-winchester @obsessivecompulsivespn @emoryhemsworth @newtospnfandom @jessikared97 @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @charliebradbury1104 @shaym-rassu @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @kristaparadowski @bloodyvoodoo @jadalecki-jackles @likiyoshi-lijie @skybabydead @jae-sch @notmoose45 @the1younevernotice @heyitscam99 @lifelovelaughangell123 @jennferjareau @crazyspn67 @speakinvain @nunnallynara @gh0stgurl @spnbaby-67 @internationalmusicteacher @teamfreewillsstuff @internationalmusicteacher @crankthatcastiel @rhiannonj79 @calaofnoldor @untitled39887 @team-free-gallagher @your-basic-potato @lostnliterature @superkrazy04 @alexwinchester23 @lonelycaffeinateddreamer @jdougl-love @kendlemariee @emilygracespellins @assassinofmasyaf @jennalyncarrigan1230 @marvel-natural

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @carribear31 @dont-you-dare-say-misha @oreosatmidnight @not-naturalfangirl @iam-a-cutiepie @kristendanwayne @milo-winchester-4ever @sugarmedean @codyshany316 @pheonyxstorm @helllonearth @juniorhuntersam @pouterpufftrain @ruprecht0420 @carriemichelle2012  @aubreystilinski @sandlee44 @gucci-daddario @whimsicalrobots @kukindukin @starry-chaos @05spn18 @my-wayward-heroes @baconlover001 @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @onlydeanandjensen @expectosel @redsalv20 @dragonrider10 @designcted @xxtheoutsidersxx @dean-winchesters-bacon @eminem-owns-my-asshole @live-like-a-girl @unfortunately-a​

[lisbonsteresa]

in defense of wyatt's ill-timed confession: the man was also grieving and did not seem in control of his emotions. don't get me wrong i think it was incredibly poor writing and seemed like a hail mary for lyatt fans (which i still am deep down) but it was so poorly executed and really shouldn't have happened at all in that moment, however he is grieving rufus and had several traumatic events on top of immense guilt. anyway i dont feel like any confession on his part should have happened in s2

Thing of it is nonnie, I would have probably let that ‘confession’ stand and not had any feelings on it one way or another had he not brought up Rufus. This season has brought lyatt to such an ‘eh’ place for me that despite what was said in that scene, or how Lucy reacted, I wouldn’t have given it much credence and let it play out however it did and kept my thoughts to myself. But since he did bring Rufus into it, the whole speech makes me angry instead.

For the one thing, I don’t think Rufus gave even the slightest shit about what was going on with Wyatt-Lucy-Jessica after 2.06. Because he had more important things to worry about. (in all honesty i don’t think he cared too much about it before that because he had Jiya’s visions and other missions to think about, but he did comment on it so I’ll allow it). Rufus learns that he’s going to die, and that very understandably takes vast precedence over whatever mess of a love triangle Wyatt’s got going on. (I would even argue that from 2.06 onward we get almost a clear-cut split between the W-L-J plot and the Rufus and Jiya plot - there are still moments when they all interact, but they don’t involve discussing their relationships until Rufus - very rightly - tells Wyatt off in the finale.)

Even if we allow the idea that Rufus was concerned about what was going on with Wyatt’s situation throughout the whole season, he sure as hell wasn’t after one third of that triangle took the love of his life captive and stole the Lifeboat. “You got so caught up in this Lucy and Jessica soap opera that you forgot there are other people in this bunker, people who love each other” is a pretty clear indicator that Rufus was waaaaaay far off of the ‘ss lyatt’ (or the ss jyatt or the ss anything involving those idiots). He was most certainly not standing in the background, wishing and hoping and cheering for a lyatt reunion, and even if he was, you could not pay me all the money in the world to think he would react with ‘it’s about damn time’.

Maybe if Wyatt had reacted differently to his callout in 2.01 he may have said that. Maybe in the aftermath of Hollywoodland he said/thought that. But after 2.04? (sub-point that adds to this; I believe @trash-by-european-villains made a post of a similar nature where they said that Rufus is loyal. he is a loyal friend to Wyatt, yes, but he’s also a loyal friend to Lucy. and he might have been pushing Wyatt to say something during WWII and waving metaphorical pom-poms after 2.03, but just because he was the captain of the lyatt cheering squad for the first few episodes (a separate issue altogether, but i digress) does not mean that he would continue supporting them being together after the mess that happened with Jess. He spent the rest of the season supportive of Wyatt making a go of it with Jess but also there to comfort Lucy in her reactions to it (when he was included in that plot at all) and honestly if you think he was still waiting in the wings for a lyatt reunion after seeing how hurt Lucy was by the entire situation, then I’m inclined to think you don’t think too much about Rufus as his own character or about Rufus and Lucy’s friendship.

And especially after 2.06? Nope, nuh-uh, he had his own shit to deal with. And that shit came into direct conflict with Wyatt’s shit and he was not happy about it, so honestly get outta here with that ‘it’s what Rufus would have wanted’ bs because I do not think he could have cared less about lyatt with everything else going on. (also, small, petty point becauseimstillmadwelosthimatall - Rufus is……how should I say this…dead. you know what he wanted? to not die. Rufus doesn’t give a single fuck about who you love ‘wherever he is’ Wyatt, and I’m so mad that they gave him the gall to include that line at all).

Moving on - and more to your point nonnie - I get that Wyatt was grieving and not fully in control of his emotions/actions, I will most definitely allow him that. He has gone through a lot of confusing feelings this season, and then in the finale he was ‘betrayed’ (quotes because I’m still not over that whole storyline and wow. much shock.) by the person he saw as his family, loses his wife all over again - this time by her choice and taking his child with her - and then loses his best friend. So of course he’s a mess, I get that. However…..know who’s also a mess? Know who also lost any family they had left, and their best friend, and even themselves? Lucy.

Lucy Preston has systematically been broken down through this entire season; she has lost everything and she has gone to a VERY dark place (I’m talking dark and scary and violent- let’s not forget that if that gun has been loaded, Lucy would have sprayed Emma’s brain all over that alley). And I don’t know if that ‘confession’ was supposed to be Wyatt comforting her or a nice moment for them to bond over their shared pain, but it sure as hell was neither for me. Lucy has spent the majority of this season having to grin and bear her way through this whole Jessica situation; had to deal with the pain of losing Wyatt and then seeing him (and hearing him) with his wife every damn day; had to deal with Wyatt wanting to have his cake and eat it to, with him not understanding that she needed space and instead expecting their relationship to be as close and comfortable as it had been, and damn that is a lot. And then on top of that she has losing her mom, losing Amy, losing Rufus piling onto her shoulders. If anyone should be making wild statements and confessions, it should be Lucy.

Putting all that aside, the timeline of the episode and how it led to Wyatt’s ‘confession’ irks me. Whatever your feelings on Jessica, it is made very clear that Wyatt loved and likely still does love her. It might not be the same way he did before the reveal; he might not want to, but this woman was his family and he spent years trying to get her back and she is carrying his child and he still has a connection to and feelings for her. Even if you want to argue that the feelings are only about the baby, they’re still there. We go from Wyatt pleading Jess to stay with him, telling her through teary eyes that he’s her family, he and the baby are her family and her future, and stopping Flynn from shooting at her because she’s carrying his child, to Wyatt sitting next to Lucy and essentially telling her he’s been in love with her the whole time. And it just doesn’t match up with what we’ve seen and it doesn’t make sense.

Because that means that either Wyatt HAS been in love with Lucy this whole time, but he still tried to make things work with Jess (not supported by the plot, but ya know) which isn’t fair for either woman but is honestly cruel to Lucy, because in that case there was no reason for her to go through so much pain on Wyatt’s behalf when he could have just told Jess from the start he had fallen for someone else; or (supported by the plot) he did have feelings for Lucy but he got his wife, who he never properly let go of/moved on from, back, and he stopped whatever he had started with Lucy to try again with Jess, in which case I still maintain it could have been handled SO much better but his actions are more understandable. But if it is the latter, than the show just stomps all over everything it had previously told us by having Wyatt say he’s been in love with Lucy and ‘should have said it a long time ago, but I didn’t so I’m saying it now’.

The whole thing feels very contradictory and - to ME - really just makes Lucy look like a second choice. By which I mean Wyatt went through all this drama, all this mess with Jess, and then after her secret was revealed - again, much shock. - and he STILL ran after her and tried to convince her to stay with him, maybe 3-4 hours later he’s telling Lucy he’s loved her through all of it, which, no, doesn’t hold water for me. Lucy does not deserve that being thrust on her with everything else she’s dealing with, regardless of Wyatt’s state of distress/unstable emotion.

And, to bring the two points - kind of - together, she REALLY did not need Wyatt’s feelings thrust upon her with the added note - and pressure - that this is what Rufus would have wanted. Which just…..mhmhm that was so unnecessary. Because - again, to ME - that makes it feel like Lucy is almost being guilted. ‘It’s what Rufus wanted’ - well first of all, no, second of all it makes it seem like she’d be disrespecting Rufus’s memory or his wishes if she DOESN’T respond to this positively. And I know that’s not the intention, but wow it sure is what I got out of it.

So…..TLDR nonnie; while I can understand and sympathize to a certain extent with the pain and turmoil and guilt Wyatt is feeling, the timing and phrasing of his ‘confession’ really rubbed me the wrong way and I don’t feel like it benefited anyone other than Wyatt himself.

[tnystrk-exe]

Reckless and Impulsive 7

Tony Stark X Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 End

You wandered around the party’s venue, staggering slightly. Tony had gone missing a couple two hours ago. So, you drank to fill the time.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized, almost tripping on someone’s foot that was sat on the couch.

“You don’t need to apologize.” The random man took your hand and pulled you down onto his lap, “I may have a better idea of what you can do with that mouth instead of apologizing.”

“I think not,” you replied quickly, attempting to get out of his hold.

“Come on play with me for a while, sugar.” He pressed a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rhodey pulled you out of the man’s grasp. He made a signal for the guy to be removed. “Hey sweetie,” he kissed the top of your head, “You feeling okay? Do you want to go?”

“What about Tony?”

“I already saw leave with someone.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “let’s go.”

Rhodey helped you walk out, “At least you’re easier to manage than Tony. How much did you have?”

“I lost Tony a while ago. So, I drank,” you shrugged, “I had a good bit.”

He helped you into his car and got in the drivers side. “You’re staying at Tony’s tonight too or do you just want to go home?”

“Wanna go with you and Tony,” you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I love my boys.”

“Yeah, we are pretty great. Aren’t we?”

“The best.”

“And when we get home, you’re going to take a shower and eat before you go to sleep.”

“Food sounds amazing.”

You dozed off on his shoulder, not waking up until the car jolted to a stop.

“But you’re more amazing than food,” you completed sleepily.

He laughed, “Thanks YN.” Rhodey helped you into the home, pulling away from you to unlock the door, “Go take a shower. I’m going to look for food. Dont do that thing that Tony does and get into the liquor.”

“Yes, dad,” you sassed, walking off to complete your orders. After the shower you quickly realize you forgot to stop by Tony’s room to grab your clothes. Wrapping a towel snuggly around your body, you raced to his room hoping Rhodey was too preoccupied to notice. Closing Tony’s door you start rummaging the drawers for the clothes you left a while back.

“Well, that’s a sight,” Tony said, nonchalantly sipping on a bottle of rum, “Your clothes are in the drawer in the walk in, the very top one. Maybe not the shirt, but just take one of mine.”

“Thanks, Tones,” you gave him a small smile displayed the blush as you closed the walk ins door. He was exactly right. You pulled on the shorts and one of his shirts with a science pun on it. “I’m clean, that creep’s hands don’t feel like they’re still on me, I’m hungry, and I’m kinda drunk. Calming down, I think,” you said as you went to lay face down on his bed.

“Never mind, I like this view sight better,” he joked, “Want some? Wait what creep?”

You sat up and took the bottle, “Just some dude. Saying we should play and I can do other things with my mouth.”

“Who?” He asked, in an eerily calm tone. It hadn’t been that long since the Starks and Tony was choosing most small fights, but now this was something important to him.

“Down boy,” you set the bottle down on the bedside, “Rhodey helped me. Your security isn’t lax on these things. It’s just hard to spot in all the moving bodies. It’s handled.”

“Let me help.”

“Fine,” you made him lay down and cuddled yourself into his side, “You’re helping.”

“This is hardly helping. I’m the one that put you in that position. I left, what if Rhodey didn’t make it to the party after all?”

“It is helping,” you shifted so that you could rest your head on his chest and look at him, “You can’t feel guilty about this, okay? Nothing happened. It was just a minor bump in. Rhodey, you, and me, we’re all okay.”

He didn’t answer opting to just glare at the wall.

You sighed and got up from the bed, making Tony follow after. “Let’s go see how our favorite Rhodey is doing.”

Rhodey was singing along to the song on the radio as he was cooking. “How’d you find a station playing Rocking Robin?” You laughed.

“Do you have a problem with it?” He smiled taking your hands as he started to spin you around to the song.

The two of you were dancing happily, giggling like little kids. Tony finally cut in, “May I have this dance? Usually they are my date.”

“Go right ahead,” Rhodey pulled away from you. Tony immediately went to Rhodey and started dancing the next song with him. You sang along to Johnny B Good. Everything seemed lighter, nostalgic.

You watched them laughing softly before taking over the cooking. Their song ended as you were setting up food onto the plates. “Time to eat boys.”

“Wait, wait,” Tony grabbed you as the next song started, “You really think I was going to pass up the chance with my girl.”

Your song with him was slower than the past two but it worked. Tony slowly moved the two of you along, his head resting on his shoulder. He sang along quiet enough where you could think you imagined it.

“For I can’t help, falling in love with you,” he finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t wait to be your kids godfather,” Rhodey pipped up as he ate.

You and Tony pulled away quickly after that. “So it’s time to eat right!”

Both of you sat down next to Rhodey. “Thanks, Rhodes.” Tony cuffed him playfully.

“Anytime. So, what are the odds of having one named after me?”

“Rhodey!” The two of you yelled, much to his amusement.

“What’s your middle name?” You asked.

“Rupert.”

“Really?” You scrunched your nose, “You’d have better like with James or Rhodes. Maybe Rhodes, it’s not like we ever call you James.”

“So you’ll name one after me?” He asked excitedly.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Hey, what about me I’m cooler anyway?” Tony looked offended that he wasn’t being taken into consideration.

“They’re going to have your last name,” Rhodey said in a fake frustrated tone, “Isn’t that enough?”

“No!”

“Come on you two, let’s get our plates and go watch a movie. So we can stop talking about my future hypothetical kids and who their father is.”

The three of you gathered your plates and moved into the living room. Tony set up Ferris Bueller’s day Off and you guys continued to eat in comfortable silence.

“I’m heading to bed,” Rhodes took the plates to the kitchen. “Goodnight!” He called out.

“Goodnight!” The two of you called out.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t draw all over you again.”

“Come on, let’s head to my room so we don’t make too much noise for him.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” You whined, slouching further into the couch.

He got up rolling his eyes, “Just ask if you want to be carried.”

“Tony can you please carry me?” You added a small pout for good measure.

He scooped you up into his arms easily, “You’re lucky I’m fond of you.”

You yawned, resting your head on his shoulder, “Love you too, Tone.”

He walked to his room and set you down on his bed softly. “Be my valentine?”

“Really?”

“I mean Valentine’s is up in what thirty minutes? Come on be the first Valentine I actually care about. I know, I’m not in a good state right now and I probably won’t be anytime soon. So, will you just be mine for the next thirty minutes.”

“A no strings attached valentine? You’re gonna have to make this really good, I haven’t had a real valentine.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I’d love to be your valentine.”

“I planned ahead and I have gifts.” He went to his closet and came out with a gift bag.

“Tony, you know you don’t have to get me anything.”

“I don’t have to, but I want to. Come on open it!”

You opened the gift bag to reveal three presents, “Tony, you really shouldn’t have.” You took out the smallest box and unwrapped it carefully, it was a simple bracelet with a heart charm that was surely the most expensive thing you owned. “I love it.” He helped you put it on. The next was a slightly bigger box that, it turned out to be a newer Polaroid camera with tons of film. He knew how upset you were when your old one ceased to function. Next was a simple bear, “Classic! I really love it all, thank you, Tony.”

“Anything for you sweetheart!” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You loaded up the camera, “C’mere.” The two of you posed for a couple of pictures. Smiles, silly, scary, you kissing his cheek, you kissing his, whatever you two thought about at the moment.

It was simple to see how easily it was for you two to switch into a more romantic tone. Though it didn’t particularly surprise either of you. Neither of you had kept it on the inside how you felt. Maybe you would be together for more than thirty minutes if some things didn’t happen or, maybe, you just weren’t meant to be together.

“You know, I really love you. Like I think in the honest and true way.”

“I think, I do too.”

“I’m a real mess, YN. I know it. You know it. I don’t want you to have to deal with that. Look, we can wait. When we’re older if the feeling is still there, if I’m in better control. We can try. That doesn’t mean we have to put things on hold. If life goes on without the both of us together, we should let it.”

“You’re right. Just know I’m still here for you,” you ran your hand through his hair, “In any of those situations.”

“Of course, I do. I can always depend on you.” He kissed the corner of your mouth.

“You know, there’s a minute left on the clock.”

“Not if we unplug it.”

“You’re the one who taught me leave them wanting more you joked.”

You were pulled onto someone’s lap for the second time for the day. The only thing was this time it wasn’t unwelcome. “My genius, it’s a gift and a curse.”

“And your need to talk all the time is taking up all the time.” You leaned in and caught his lips in the first kiss that wasn’t for a joke or a badly timed drunken decision. It was right and good, exactly the type of kids the both of you were waiting for.

Tony looked dazed when the two of you pulled away. “You definitely left me wanting more,” he joked, pulling you to lay down with him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Tag: @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @skeletoresinthebasement @nerissa98 @mala-firebringer @lanilovespsychos @the-blue-haired-boy @firedolphin04 @kasiarella @princess76179 @geeksareunique @random-fandom-lady @thevanishedillusion @jessicaguerreiro07 @125bluemachine125 @charlotte-of-the-enterprise