#god i hate pms... every fucking month

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[garciaasfluffypen]

the suit stays on (we're feral for you)

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.5k warnings: SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DNI. (we’re operating under the assumption that y’all have fucked or at least seen each other in various states of undress prior to being in an established polycule), toy usage, fingering (reader recieving), female terms of endearment -- "our girl", mentions of mental abuse/belittling in previous relationships request from this ask a/n: i have no clue if this stayed on prompt or not but its here and its all i could think about while i was at work today

gods, you looked good in a suit. 

you adjusted the jacket that tara had helped you pick out for the upteenth time, smoothing invisible wrinkles off the dark maroon fabric as you made your way to the door of the bedroom. well, technically it had become your shared office, but you knew your favorite women barely looked into the closet in this room unless there was a gala they had to go to. it was the perfect hiding spot. you ran into their bedroom real fast, hearing emily humming to herself in the bathroom as you went over to the bag you had brought over to grab your black pumps. you rarely wore them, but you figured since rossi was paying for emily to treat you and jj to an anniversary celebration it was only fair that you pulled them out. 

while it wasn’t jj and emily’s anniversary (considering they had been together for years and married before you came along) it had been five months to the day that they had asked you to officially join them, to be more than just a friend and a confidant. to be their girlfriend. sure, it had scared you, but now it was second nature. you had fit into their relationship like a hand sliding into a glove. it was so easy for you to find your place with them. they made sure you felt comfortable from the beginning- separating work from pleasure, each taking you out on separate date nights at least once every other week and a trio date twice a week. making sure to remind you every day that you were loved and appreciated. to let you know it was okay to not mask your stims or feelings- they were always making sure you felt safe. none of your previous exes did that, always belittling you when you would stim in public or forget to take your medication. but with emily and jj? it was easy. 

loving them was easy.

your feet slid into the pumps with ease, welcoming the extra few inches they added to your height. with a smile, you went over to the front door to scan the checklist jj had put up for you, reading it over. keys, check. wallet, check. badge, not necessarily needed but you had it in your wallet just in case. meds, which were only a morning thing, not including your magnesium that you took at six pm each day. you didn’t need to take them unless you forgot them, but jj and emily had been good at making sure you had taken them whenever you were over. the adhd brain fog you got when you don’t take your meds was rough, you’d hate for it to show up in front of them. 

“baby are you--” jj stopped in her tracks as she looked you up and down, her jaw dropping slightly. 

“do i look okay? i don’t, i knew the suit was a bad idea, i’ll go--”

jj grabbed your hand, turning you to face her. “absolutely not. you look….” 

“beautiful.” emily joined you two by the front door, slipping an arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “the word she’s looking for is beautiful.” 

emily had put on a pair of slacks and a fancy blouse, one that she had most likely gotten from her mother at some point. you didn’t know much about ambassador prentiss, but you knew she almost always sent emily stuff that she barely wore. most of those clothing items hung in the guest room closet. jj wore a baby blue sleeveless top with black jeans, her hair falling down behind her in those beach waves that you loved and adored. you had no idea what they had planned for tonight, but all you knew was that they looked hot and you were in fact, very in love with your girlfriends. even if you couldn’t find the words to say it to them yet. 

“where’d you get the suit?” 

“uh, tara took me shopping the other day. when she heard about the date.” you swallowed nervously. “i hope thats okay.” 

jj stepped closer. “you should buy more suits. i can’t even put into words how hot you look right now.” 

you blushed. “are you sure i’m not overdressed?” you moved to take the jacket off. 

“absolutely not.” emily gave you a stern look. “the suit stays on.” 

“you’re not overdressed at all, lovey.” jj squeezed your hand. “you look amazing.”

“are you sure?”

“i promise.” she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “we got reservations at fiola, that italian place you wanted to try. you’re perfectly dressed.” 

the glint in emily’s eyes pointed to other undertones, but you kept your mouth shut. better to not start anything in case you were reading the situation wrong. you let them lead you to the car, making sure you were buckled in before heading out. jj leaned forward to rest her hand at the crook of your elbow, keeping light conversation with you so you didn’t get lost in your thoughts. the two women knew that you didn’t do the best with plans you didn’t know everything about, so they made sure to keep you in the loop as much as they could. granted, they didn’t even know the restaurant they were going to until this morning, but they told you what they were doing as they were doing it. it was a nice change, especially since in the past you would have to deal with your exes just scooping you up and taking you places without asking for your input. 

you enjoyed the meal, despite feeling out of place. rossi had made sure to get you a secluded corner booth, far away from everyone so you could make the most of your night together. after dinner, emily and jj took you for a walk through the georgetown waterfront park while you awed at the sights. they knew you would love it, since you always found beauty in small things like this. it was rare that you let your guard down like this, but they knew you trusted them enough to do so. even if these nights were far and few between, seeing you be your true self was something they adored deeply. to end the night, the three of you got ice cream at a little local shop before heading back to the apartment. 

minutes within getting inside, you kicked your heels off and went to take your jacket off, only to be stopped by a set of hands. emily walked in front of you, silently telling you to let her take care of it. jj had momentarily disappeared, and you searched for her as emily took your jacket off with care. it was folded neatly on the back of the couch before she ran her hands lightly over your arms again, stopping to hold your hands. you searched her eyes, attempting to figure out what your women had planned for you.

“how are you feeling, y/n?” her voice was low and husky. “are you up for more? if you’re not, you can tell us.”

“can we do whatever it is with jj?” 

“of course, lovey. she should be in the bedroom, do you care to join us?”  

you silently nodded, letting emily guide you to the bedroom. as she opened the door, you saw your favorite candles lit on either side table, with jj leaning up against the wall as she waited. her eyes practically lit up as she saw you and emily walk in, stepping over to you. 

“if you’d rather just curl up in bed, say the word and we can do that, okay?” jj gave you a smile. 

“okay. but what are we…”

your voice trailed off as you started to notice that jj had changed into a satin robe, one that she only took out for special occasions. you remembered buying it with her years ago, when penelope had invited you to girls night as a way to introduce you to emily before she had gotten with jj. before you had been asked to join the BAU, even. your hand ghosted over the satin fabric, subconsciously finding the string and fidgeting with it. your head fell to jj’s shoulder, slowly shuffling closer to her. 

“we couldn’t help but wish we could have you all night,” jj started. “you’re just so hot and all we could think about was you. we're feral for you." jj paused, looking at you. "is this okay?”

you nod. “more than okay.” 

“you’re in control, tonight is about you. you want us to stop, you tell us.” 

a noise fell from your lips. “mm”

“i need words, y/n.” 

“yes.” 

within seconds, jj’s hands started exploring your body, waiting for you to initiate a kiss. you leaned in, your hands wrapping around jj’s midsection and pulling her close to you as possible. emily came up behind you, her hands moving around your waist and starting to kiss your neck. your head fell back, giving both women full access to you. slowly but surely you feel yourself being taken to the bed, emily sitting down behind you and letting you lean against her knees. jj slowly started to undress you, taking her time and practically worshiping your body. emily placed kisses down your back, her hands exploring your upper body. they were taking care of you, taking their time and letting you know how much you truly meant to them. your hands found their way to the tie on jj’s robe again, un-tying it and pushing the fabric off her shoulders. with a swift movement, jj moved you so you were on the bed, emily shuffling to give jj room to adjust everything before continuing. you grabbed at emily, pulling her close and giving her a kiss while starting to unbutton her blouse, being sure to be careful. even if she didn’t care about it, it felt expensive and not worth ruining. 

emily helped you push her blouse off her shoulders before laying down next to you, the red of her victoria’s secret bra a stark contrast from her porcelain skin. you found your way to her breasts, kneading one with one hand while you pestered kisses all over the other one. emily’s hand made it's way into your hair, the other gripping the side of your arm lightly. moans fell from emily as you switched breasts, repeating the same process. as you did so, your free hand went down to your center, which was hot with need as your girlfriends took care of you. she slowly pushed you back onto the bed, pushing the hair out of your face and trailing her hand down to your jaw, turning your face to look at her. emily shifted so she could turn your head and envelop you in a kiss. as you kissed, her hand went to replace the one hovering over your center, easily slipping two fingers in with a smirk on your face as you moaned out. your head fell into the crook of emily’s neck, biting and nipping at the skin in an attempt to leave a semblance of a mark. 

“emmy… emmy please.” 

emily’s free hand grabbed your hip, holding you in place as you tried to move your hips. she was teasing the hell out of you, knowing you all too well. you mewed out as emily’s fingers slowed, the high you were chasing fading away. a pout flew over your features as you clawed at emily’s shoulders, silently pleading with her to continue. you finally regained movement of your hips as emily’s hand loosened, letting you find that high again at your own pace. noises fell from your lips as fireworks exploded all around you, the skin of emily’s shoulder becoming victim to yet another set of bite marks as you worked through your high. 

a blush crept up on your cheeks as you remembered jj had been there the whole time, now noticing the baby blue strap now situated over her hips. jj placed a hand on emily’s back and stood next to her, looking over to you to ensure you wanted to continue. you nodded, pulling jj closer so you could grab the strap. jj lightly moved your head to the strap, holding her hand at the back of your head while emily positioned herself behind you, her hands going to knead your breasts as you sucked jj off. 

“do you need more, y/n?” you nodded. “words.”

“yes. more.” 

 “so beautiful,” she placed a kiss on your cheek, then your neck. “our girl.” 

“what does our girl need?” emily looked at you.

“more, please.” 

you clawed at jj who pushed you down on the bed, hovering over your entrance as you nodded again as a signal for her to continue. slowly she pushed the strap into you, her hands going to hold you in place as she bottomed out. a moan of pleasure left your lips as she sat there for a second, waiting for you to adjust before she started pumping in and out. your hand reached for emily and went straight to her center, finding her clit and starting to rub. 

“look at you, taking me so well. laying there and taking me like a good girl should.” jj pressed into your hips. “getting emmy off while i fuck you so good, huh?” 

your free hand gripped at the sheets. “oh, oh fu--”

“yeah? jayje is so good to you, huh?” you nodded. “tell me, use your words.”

“so good, jay, so-- fuck-!” 

emily came to a climax first, with you following closely behind. jj smirked as the two of you rode your climaxes out together, both of you moaning out in tandem. as your high faded away, leaving you breathless on the bed, jj’s hips starting to stutter as her own climax hit her. emily slowly pushed your hand away from her and watched you through hooded eyes as you whined at the sudden emptiness you felt below. jj fell on the bed next to you, pulling you as close to you as she could before emily joined the two of you. 

“was that okay, y/n?” 

you covered your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. “how are you so good at that?” 

“at what?” jj smirked. 

“oh shut up,” you playfully nudged her shoulder. “you know what i’m talking about.” 

“what can i say, the best of me comes out when i’m with you. the both of you.” 

you couldn’t help but blush. “really?”

“really. we wouldn’t have asked you to be ours if we didn’t both adore the hell out of you.” 

emily wrapped her arm around your midsection. “you mean the world to us, y/n. truly. we’d do anything for you.” 

it felt as if your heart grew three sizes in that moment. you snuggled further into emily and pulled jj close, inhaling the subtle scent of sea salt from her shampoo. you closed your eyes and let the two women draw patterns over your skin, relishing in the moment before ultimately one of them got up to get a washcloth. your eyes started to slowly shut, the warmth of your girlfriends bodies engulfing you in a hug. 

you could get used to this. 

and maybe… maybe you were almost ready to say those three words.  almost.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 23 FINAL | S.R

Previous Chapter

A/N - final chapter! This one skips forward a couple of months.

Chapter Summary - Spencer’s friends join him celebrating a milestone in his sobriety and Luke has a special surprise in store for him to commemorate the occasion.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - rehab, swearing, making out, lots of fluff. WC - 3k

Chapter 23 - Long Promised Road

Crescent Oak Rehabilitation Facility was more or less exactly what Spencer imagined a rehab centre to be like. It was almost eerily calming, his first few weeks here he’d almost been on edge by just how serene it was. 

There was always some kind of soft music playing from speakers he often couldn’t even see. Meditation was highly encouraged, as were walks in the zen garden. Patients were required to wear all white linens and white canvas shoes. The only good thing was that he was here voluntarily, so if he wanted to leave he could. And a few times he almost did. 

At first Spencer couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck he’d done. He felt more as though he’d joined a cult than checked into a rehab facility. For at least a week, maybe longer he considered leaving every single day. But he just kept telling himself, give it one more day, it will get better. Just one more day.

Around the middle of his second week Spencer found he woke up one day and didn’t hate it here. He didn’t begrudge getting in his white linens, he hummed along to the soft music playing through mysterious speakers and he actively joined in a meditation session. And ever since then he’d felt oddly at peace at Crescent Oaks. 

He met with a therapist once a day, one on one, no group sessions thank god. He ate his three meals, he showered every day without fuss. He partook in arts and crafts, read in the library and went on nature walks. And not only did he tolerate it, he actually liked it. 

Thankfully he’d gotten over the hardest part of his recovery in comas and catatonic states. He still had the occasional withdrawal and of course there were still days when he wanted to use. But they were few and far between these days. 

He’d initially checked himself in for three months - he wanted to reach his six month milestone before he even considered going it alone. After those three months he had the option to stay for as long as he thought he needed. It was comforting to know he wouldn’t be on his own. 

His old team visited every chance they could. Crescent Oaks allowed visitors every day between the hours of six pm and nine pm and he had a visitor at least four times a week if not more. Usually it was Garcia when the team were on cases and they would take walks together and chat aimlessly amongst themselves. 

His wounds were slowly starting to heal, both the mental and physical ones. Of course his scars remained and always would but Spencer now looked at them like they were badges of honour, proof he survived the worst life had to throw at him. He was proud to wear them for the world to see. 

Luke continued to see Y/N. He hadn’t told Spencer at first but Spencer could just tell. And once he got over his initial jealousy he had actually been pleased that you had someone like Luke in your life. 

He didn’t let himself ask about you, despite the fact he was always thinking about you. Sometimes Luke would say, “I saw Y/N yesterday,” and Spencer would nod and smile and change the subject. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about you, because he did. But talking about you often left Spencer feeling miserable with how much he missed you and right now he only had the brain capacity to focus on one area of his life. And that had to be his recovery this time. 

He still wore your bracelet. Maybe one day he’d take it off, but for now he found comfort in it. It made him feel connected to you in the way he hoped having his one year sober chip felt for you. It was some kind of reminder that the two of you were still entwined, bound to each other in ways even he didn’t truly understand. 

When Luke had told him a few weeks after he checked into Crescent Oaks that you’d been to visit him while he was catatonic, he’d been at a complete loss for words. He must have disassociated by the point as he had absolutely no recollection of you being there. 

He hated that he couldn’t remember something so important but maybe it had been a blessing in disguise. If he’d been conscious of you being there while he was trapped inside the shell of his body that wouldn’t move to his command, he would have hated Luke for bringing you there. 

But knowing you had been there was comforting in a way, it meant you still cared. Maybe one day he’d get the chance to thank you.

***

Spencer was mildly overwhelmed at all the eyes that were on him, shrinking in on himself a little and wrapping his arms around himself. He’d never liked to be the centre of attention, but there was no getting out of this. He’d asked his therapist if they could just make it a lowkey affair but she simply smiled and shook her head.

“Trust me, Spencer, in the months or years to come, you will be glad you marked this milestone with all your closest friends.” 

He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, averting his gaze to the floor as his therapist stood and addressed the room. 

“Thank you all for being here, this is a big day in Spencer’s recovery and having all his friends here means the world to him. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.” Jessica laughed slightly as did the others in the room. All except for Spencer. “He’s told me all about his long struggle with drug abuse and his mental health and I for one am so proud of him for getting here. The first six months are the hardest on the road to recovery and so I am overjoyed to be able to present him with his six month chip.”

Jessica cleared her throat when she finished speaking and Spencer tentatively glanced up at her, still chewing frantically on his lip. She was holding out his new golden chip, motioning for him to stand and join her. He swallowed thickly, pushing himself up to his feet and shuffling over to her.

“Uh, thanks.” His cheeks burned as he took the chip from her hand and rolled it between his fingers.

“Speech!” Luke hollered with a chuckle. 

“Come on kid, we didn’t come all the way out here for nothing.” Rossi goaded him. 

“After all we’ve done for you, it's the least you can do.” Tara teased. 

Spencer finally looked up, glancing at the seven faces in the room. The seven people he loved most in the world who had gone to the ends of the earth to help him on every step of his recovery. These seven people were the reason he was still standing, the reason he was able to stand here today and proclaim that he was six months sober.

“I hate being the centre of attention. And I hate public speaking.” he scuffed the toe of his converse on the worn carpet. “But I guess I do owe you, honestly I don’t think I will ever be able to put into words just how much. Without each of you, I know for a fact I wouldn’t be here, I would most likely be dead. I know I’ve been difficult to be around, I know I’ve given you all a hard time but for some reason you’ve stuck by me and I am so grateful for that, you have no idea. 

I don’t know how exactly I got so lucky as to have you all in my life. And I certainly don’t tell you all enough just how much I love and appreciate you all. To be able to stand here and say I am officially six months sober, I wouldn’t have made it here without each and every one of you. Emily, Luke, the two of you probably got the brunt of my frustrations and anger and I am really very sorry for that. But between the two of you, uh, you…” He got choked up and swallowed, closing his eyes as he finished the sentence. “The two of you saved my life. And I don’t even know how to begin thanking you for that.”

When he opened his eyes his tears overflowed and he noticed several of his old team had also gotten teary eyed. JJ and Garcia were holding hands, both crying as they looked at him. Luke’s eyes were glossy with unshed and Emily turned her head to wipe her eyes. 

“I, uh, I guess that’s it.” Spencer sniffed, running his thumb over the chip’s engraving. “I still don’t know what normal feels like but I, uh, feel decent.” 

The seven of them, plus Jessica, started clapping loudly, cheering and Matt even whistled. Spencer smiled, wiping his eyes with his free hand while his cheeks flushed pink. One by one they came over and hugged him tightly, congratulating him on this huge achievement. 

“What are your plans, Reid?” Matt was the one to ask the million dollar question while they all crowded around him. 

“I think I’m gonna stay here, just a little longer. I don’t think I’d relapse if I left now but I just wanna be sure.” He pocketed the chip but kept his hand wrapped around it. 

“I think that’s both smart and brave of you to admit.” Tara smiled at him.

“We are so, so proud of you Spence.” JJ still had tears in her eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah alright.” He rolled his eyes with a soft chuckle. “Can we turn the attention on someone else now?” 

The seven members of his old team looked between each other, slightly guilty looks on their faces that weren’t lost on Spencer. He frowned, looking between them in turn while he tried to figure out what was going on.

“What’s happening?” He asked no one in particular. “I’ve missed something.”

“I mean now you’ve mentioned turning the attention onto someone else, we do kinda have a surprise visitor for you.” Luke spoke, giving him a sheepish smile. 

But Spencer could tell exactly what he wasn’t saying. His brain was so much clearer these days, it was almost working back at its full capacity and he knew what, or rather who Luke was referring to.

“No.” Spencer shook his head, his stomach coiling into knots and more tears flooded his vision. “No way.”

Penelope smiled brightly, tottering over to the door on her too high heels and slowly gripping the handle. Spencer stared at the closed door, tears rolling silently down his cheeks and he inadvertently held his breath. 

Garcia leisurely opened the door, clearing trying to build the suspense, which admittedly worked. Spencer’s heart hammered rapantly against his chest, causing him to feel a little nauseous. His hands were shaking, he worried his knees might buckle beneath him.

When the door was finally all the way open, you stepped into view, teeth digging heavily into your bottom lip and your hands stuffed deep inside of your pockets. As soon as you locked eyes on him, your own tears overflowed but you found yourself frozen to the spot.

When Luke had told you over coffee one afternoon that Spencer was due to celebrate his six months sober and invited you to come, initially you’d quickly declined and shut the conversation down. You were doing well in the outside world, still living at the halfway house and enjoying your job at the diner. 

You were keeping yourself afloat but the idea of seeing Spencer again was too much for you to even contemplate. Not now. Maybe not ever. You were eleven months sober, you couldn’t risk any bump in that road.

You still weren’t sure, as you stood here now, what changed your mind. Luke hadn’t pressured you to come, he’d never mentioned it again after the first time. But the overwhelming need to see him with your own eyes, to confirm he was in fact alive and ok had driven you to be here today. It had only been yesterday when Luke popped by the diner for dinner that you’d told him you would come. 

And now as you stared at Spencer from the doorway, you knew you’d made the right call. Seeing him looking healthy and happy filled you with pride and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your sobriety. You wanted to be sober alongside him. 

“Y/N.” He croaked out your name, wobbling a little on his feet. 

“Hi Spence.” Your voice cracked. 

“We’ll give you two a minute.” Emily spoke on behalf of her team and the seven of them, and Jessica, left the room as you took a few steps inside. 

The door was closed behind you as you cautiously approached Spencer. He didn’t move, seemingly frozen to the spot. You noticed the frayed end of your purple and gold bracelet poking out the sleeve of his sweater and it filled you with joy to know he still wore it.

“I, uh, I hope you don’t mind me coming. Luke invited me and at first I didn’t think it would be a good idea but…” you trailed off, sniffing back your tears. “But I really wanted to see you.”

“Are you really here?” Spencer choked. “I’m not imagining things?”

You smiled at him, cautiously stepping closer to him. You were steady in your movements as you reached out and took hold of his hand. You brought his hand to your lips and pressed them against his knuckles softly. The action caused Spencer to whimper slightly, even more tears now falling from his eyes.

“Do you believe me? I’m really here, Spence.” You were still holding his hand and he used it to pull you closer to him. 

Your chests crashed together, and he used his free hand to wrap around your waist, his large hand taking purchase on your lower back while he kept hold of your hand in his other. You looked up at him and he was smiling down on you. You could feel his heart beating against you and you were sure he could feel yours. He bowed his head closer to you, resting your foreheads together. 

“I might need a little more convincing.” His lip tugged into a smirk and before you knew what you were doing, you were crushing your lips together.

Spencer hummed into your mouth, holding you firmly in place while parting your lips with his tongue. The kiss was like nothing the two of you had ever shared before. It was a new beginning, a fresh start. It was hope and it was home all in one. 

It didn’t last particularly long, but the passion between the two of you was clear. When he pulled back he kept his arm around you, but let go of your hand in lieu of cupping your cheek.

“I think…I think I’m bound to you.” You whispered shakily. “I probably have been since the moment we met. I think I meant what I said before about us, at least at the time I did. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Spence.” 

“You don’t have to.” He stroked your cheek with his fingertips. “I think we were meant to find each other, Y/N. I think in some kind of fucked up way, the two of us are perfect for each other. On paper, two addicts shouldn’t work together, but I think we can be the exception to that. I don’t believe we will pull each other down, I think we’ll only raise the other up. Our sobriety is so important to both of us, I truly believe we can aid each other through recovery.”

“I think so too.” You nodded. “Spence, I love you.” 

He felt his heart swell to double the size and he held you tighter, almost impossibly closer to him.

“I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life.” He confessed, brushing his lips over yours. 

“I may not have loved you for my whole life, but I know for a fact that I will love you for the rest of my life.” You breathed him in, knowing that you only had a limited amount of time together for now. 

“The minute I get out of here I am taking you to dinner. The most incredible dinner you’ve ever had in your life.” He smiled at you, chuckling lightly.

“I will hold you to that.” You laughed too. 

He kissed you again, somehow more passionate than the last which seemed impossible but yet here you were. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers grazing the hair at the base of his neck. He moaned softly into your mouth at the sensation but tried to keep himself from getting too riled up. There would be plenty of time for that once he left Crescent Oaks. For now he had to keep it PG13.

When the kiss broke he looked you deep in the eyes, right through to your soul. It caused your knees to buckle a little and Spencer smiled, helping you remain upright. His other hand joined his first on your face, cupping it lightly and wiping at your tears with his thumbs. 

“For so long all I’ve seen is darkness,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes. “But you, angel, you are and always have been my guiding light.”

With that he kissed you once more, all his love and adoration for you communicated without the use of words. You’d gotten used to your life being shrouded in darkness, almost grown accustomed to it in a weird way. 

But Spencer had shined a light on you that was so bright it had banished all of your demons to the shadows. It wasn’t to say they would never rear their ugly heads, but as long as Spencer was by your side fighting them with you, it didn’t seem so daunting anymore. 

“The darkness declares the glory of light.” - T.S Eliot

@tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28 @academiareid

[electricsynthesis]

lance’s parents are two trauma nurses who met because they were coworkers. his father went on to be an EMT in an ambulance for the hospital they work for while his mother stayed in the ER trauma wing. they work long grueling hours saving people’s lives. They are both kind of workaholics. frequently they bring their children to work with them. Obviously not into the trauma ER but y’know. To the hospital. by the time luis (the sibling I assume is the oldest) is a teenager he’s already wrangling his younger siblings and babysitting them and shit.

None of this is to say the mcclain parents are like, deadbeat. No sir. they are the kind of overachievers who can work 1000 years and still have time to care for their kids. (to be clear, the older siblings do a lot of the on the ground stuff once they’re older. like cooking. But the parents make sure to be around.) they go on trips a lot. holidays are for the family. Sunday church. If one of the kids has a school thing, one of them will take time off or call out to go. they are masters at coordinating . It’s intimidating how much they can do in a day. The type people who wake up at 4 am and have a months worth of shit done by the time they pass out at 11 pm. They function on no sleep and somehow they are not burnt out .

and they love their kids soooo fucking much but here is the thing here is the thing here is the thing. They expect this kind of overachieving-lack-of-burnout-5-hours-of-sleep insanity from their kids. Which isn’t to say that they’re scrutinizing their kids’ every action but moreso that they just assume everyone can keep up with them. yeah of course luis is babysitting his siblings and worrying about the SAT, what’s wrong with that. That’s normal. I could’ve done that ?

this is a home life that creates insane honors student children who will grow up to get 2 phds and change the world or total burnouts. Zero inbetween. all of lance’s older siblings are the former and lance is fucking HURTLING towards being the latter.

my headcanon for the siblings ages goes from oldest to youngest is luis -> veronica -> marco -> rachel & lance (lance is a few minutes younger). The sibling named rachel looks a lot like lance so I like to headcanon them as twins.

luis: 30, a psychiatrist at a private practice, married with 2 children

veronica: 27, field medic/pilot for the military, specifically with the nevada galaxy garrison base (everyone being just a pilot is boring, sorry) (I headcanon the shows garrison base as being in nevada because I think it’s a cute area-51 reference)

marco: 25, working on his thesis for a phd in marine biology. certified outdoorsman, likes to spend his free time on exploratory seafaring vessels doing ocean science stuff

rachel & lance: 16 (the surprise menopause babies!)

Anyway she’s his #burnout solidarity she has it worse than him. he was like okay. Okokkkkokokokokok I’m going to go into the military and he completely washed out of the fighter pilot program because he doesn’t have enough talent to make up for his god given ADHD need to procrastinate. rachel just went to normal highschool and her lack of extracurriculars and middling-to-bad grades was the family’s nuclear explosion ( Before lance went missing—) because everyone thought she wanted to kill herself . She kind of did.

She has all of lance’s issues with insecurity and none of his false confidence. she’s shy and anxious a lot of the time. But she’s smart. Witty. quick and sarcastic. She’s the alt kid of the family . Will unprompted complain about things like Society and Capitalism and The Government. internet commie. was a crybaby as a kid but grew into a weirdly jaded teenager.

lance is obviously the obnoxious youngest sibling. he’s loud and attention seeking and annoying on purpose. he hates being alone and will be irritating just to get you to let him hang out with you. Exactly the type of kid to follow his older siblings around and whine until they let him hang out with them and their friends.

marco is the chill sibling. A gamer. he’s like always 100% of the time stressed out of his mind about school but it’s looped back around to making him really really really outwardly calm. interpersonal conflict does nothing to him because he’s too busy exploding with terror about his grades. the only thing that makes him feel calm is the ocean. used to go with his uncles on (noncommercial, hobby) fishing trips and it sparked an utter adoration for the sea in him. he’s a lot older than rachel & lance but he’s the closest with them, he was happy to babysit them & hang out with them. Introduced them to video games

veronica is a hardass. she was the patented Overachiever Kid. was playing sports, in academic clubs, and played an instrument all before she was in middle school. she drops some of this as she gets older but proceeds to pour all her energy into academics. she’s not valedictorian or anything but she’s spending like every day at school until 5 pm doing science shit. has absolutely 0 tolerance for bullshit. A rule follower down to her core. thrives off of approval from authority. got her bachelor’s in premed. was hit with a crushing, all-consuming existential dread about What Will She Do After School. so she decided to join the military about it.

luis was the goody two shoes kid who rebelled preeeetty hard as a young adult. he was perfectly well behaved all his childhood, earning the approval of both his parents. he babysat his siblings. did well in school. checked all the boxes of Stuff He Was Supposed To Do. and then he went off to college for his premed bachelors as soon as he physically could and proceeded to go INSANE. absolutely BONKERS. utterly unmoored without his family to ground him and completely out of his depth. did bad in school drank got into crazy college drama and most importantly of all. Didn’t talk to anyone at home

he eventually met who would (eventually) become his wife and proceeded to make important emotional connections thus making him more able to both live on his own and return to his little siblings, whom he loves deeply

but by the time lance is a teenager we have: a PhD haver, a lieutenant, and a PhD student, plus 2 nurses in the ER

and this is why lance has confidence issues

[buckyarchives]

The Domestic Life Of Living With a Runaway Assassin [chapter one.]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

summary: you hate many things in life. You hate soulmates. You hate the avengers. You hate guns. You hate lost snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can find yourself hating him

W.c: 6.9k

Author note: did not think this was going to actually get notes. I forgot how bad my wiring was back then and going through and rewriting all of it is just. Ugh. I’m too lazy.

masterlist

Today was going down as the most inconvenient day ever. 

It was 10:30 pm, and you were sitting in some stupid coffee shop, the only one that had free Wi-Fii in your area because yours is down for the next 24 hours. The coffee tastes like shit because of-fucking-course it does. This place closes in 30 minutes and you have all that time to send in all your week's work to your boss, which is also due in 30 minutes. You weren't even going to think about the fact you spent all day having to listen to ongoing construction outside and having to run your roommate all around Queens to help her get comfy and organized at her dorm. 

You wanted to kick someone, honestly. 

As you tried your best to focus and very frantically type away at your keyboard. You were probably going to break your keyboard at some point tonight, either by typing too hard or just simply throwing it across the fucking room in a fit of rage. 

A woman, maybe in her mid-30s – if it matters, walks up to you and reminds you that the place closes in half an hour and gives you a free, pity coffee. Probably noticing the growing under eyes bags or seeing you yawn into your hand every 7 minutes, give or take. 

You had chugged the coffee and put everything you had into the next 20-something minutes and you sat back after your third look over everything to make sure you didn't miss any mistakes that could possibly get you fired. You were finally done and could go home. 

Closing your laptop and packing your shit up, you wave to the lovely lady probably waiting for you to leave so she can close up. But because nothing goes your way and New York is just the most wonderful place to live, especially with the avengers. You don't make it out the door before you hear rapid gunfire rattle your ears and suddenly you’re ducking beneath the first table you find. 

Your day could not get any worse, you thought.

Maybe you could have just crawled up in a ball and accepted your fate of being killed midst the 7th random gunfight of the month, you could even make it on the news! Nope, fate had other ideas and someone just has to save you. 

Your ears filter out everything besides the sound of gunfire, glass shattering, and people screaming and yelling. It's too fucking late for this. A firm hand grabs yours and before you can get whisked away and snatch your bag because your life is worth risking for your laptop and books. You swear you got whiplash from how fast you moved away from the scene, only seeing a black blur of a human in front of you. 

You regain your senses, most of them. After being pushed and crouched in a back alley behind the now-destroyed coffee shop, you hoped the lady was okay. catching your breath and hearing frantic shuffling next to you. A man, tall and built, dressed entirely in black with a plethora of weapons attached to his body. He glances at you for a moment and you think he looks familiar, maybe he was an Avenger. God, you hate the Avengers. His eyes continued to scan the dark area, before settling down next to you, eyes trained on one end of the ally. 

He has a messy mop of a head, you can't really see his eyes clearly but you definitely notice the insane-Robert-Pattinson's-batman-amounts of black eyeshadow around his eyes. He has a black mask on too. Okay, so edgy Avengers. Haven't heard of him on the news yet. Like you even watch the news. 

You must have been staring for a little too long and too hard because the mystery Avenger takes notice of it and his bushy eyebrows furrow at you, looking at you like you had personally offended him. Then, you notice his eyes and are a little, only a little, taken aback by their intense blueness and beauty of them. You barely notice what he says. “I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

You scoff. “I don't even know who you are.”

The emo Avenger freezes and looks at you with wide eyes like you grew two heads. Or you were the crazy one between the two of you. “What?” you question him and he mumbled and sputtered under the mask. You motion for the mask, telling him to take it off. And he slowly rips it off his face, his very pink lips are parted and he's breathing hard and fast. 

“You.. what did you say, your words.”

Wait.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Your mouth falls open and you really want to kick something, or him. “You're my soulmate?” you said maybe a little too loud and it came out harsher than intended. He looks hurt by your tone and if it wasn't for the shock taking over your head, you would have felt bad. 

Today is the most inconvenient and the worst day of your life.

“Wow doll, you're the first person I've met that sounds disappointed to find their soulmate.” you ignore his comment and especially ignore the nickname, hoping that wouldn't stick. You wanted to go the fuck home. 

“Can I leave?”

Your soulmate narrowed his eyes at you. “No.”

“Why.” your eyes narrow back into his and just for a moment you realize you’re now in an impromptu staring contest with this man in some dirty back alley, hoping you don't get shot. “Listen, man, I have work tomorrow and I'd rather not get shot or dragged into some avengers bullshit.

He rolls his eyes, but you're not done. “I really don't like the Avengers. Seriously, you couldn't have chosen any other job? The number of cars I've seen the hulk throw and then miss–”

“I'm not an Avenger.” his bushy eyebrows furrow, plus the black war paint makes him look intimidating. If you weren't pissed,  you might have been a little scared. Only a little.

“You really don't know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” you fire back. The ego of this guy!

He sputtered for a moment, “No, I guess not.”

your back hits the brick wall, sigh to yourself, and slump back down. You made yourself small. Now nursing a monstrous headache.

A frustrated grunt comes from the dark brunette. “Ok, ok, ok, ok… I'm going to walk you home.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he says, you just realize you don't know his name. “You said it yourself, you don't want to get shot. I’ll make sure that you don’t.”

You were really tired, letting people win wasn't something you did often. You'll make an exception. You huff and blow some stray hair away from your face. “What's your name?”

He pauses, “Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky.” you bring yourself to your feet. “You bring me safely home, quickly with no little side quest. That's it. And then you turn around and don't come back to my place.” you grab a hold of his hand to drag him along but you're met with cold, hard, metal. He flinches out of his skin, and metal. Your eyes travel up his arm. 

“You’re an amputee?”

Bucky looks confused. “What?”

“Nevermind.” you shook your head and continued to drag him along to your apartment. You were so ready to go the fuck to bed. You hoped this walk home wasn't painful, but when do you get what you want?

Bucky was confused. Your pace matched his as you walked side by side to your apartment. The gentle wind brushed against his skin and flew through his brown locks. He was walking next to his soulmate. You were his soulmate and it seemed you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Bucky knew very well he was way out of his time but he couldn't come up with a coherent answer to why. Was this new generation against the universe? Was this some weird trend? Unless you lied to him and did know who the winter soldier was, that would make sense. But, you seemed pretty persistent that you did, in fact, not know him (which the more he thought about it– he felt good that you didn't know). You must not read the paper, or watch the news. You thought he was a goddamn avenger!

He glances over to you, your lips. You were chewing on your bottom lip. It was painted red. You look beautiful with the dim yellow street light shining down on your face. “Don't do that.”

Bucky's voice is soft and gentle. He doesn't recognize it.

Your eyes trail to him. “Do what?” you ask

“That.” Bucky pauses in his spot on the sidewalk, takes a few steps towards you and he brings his flesh hand up to your mouth, slowly grazing his thumb across your split lip. “Don't chew so hard on your lip like that. I'm sure it hurts.”

Bucky's eyes are trained onto your lips, he doesn't dare look up at your eyes. But you are staring at him with widened eyes. You felt like you were on fire.

Too close. You pull away. “Okay, this is my apartment. Bye, Bucky.” 

And just like that, you're quickly walking into your apartment lobby, you glance back at him and give Bucky a sincere smile before leaving his sights. Bucky stood there feeling like an idiot, completely forgetting any government or hydra issues he was dealing with earlier.

Bucky was going to walk away but his intrusive, no,  protective – as he would describe it – thoughts took over. He jogged to the other side of the building, hoping he would be able to figure out which apartment you lived in without going too far. He saw a light turn on and noticed a figure walking by, your figure. This wasn't stalking, no. Bucky was just making sure you made it to your home, safe and sound, he was just looking out for his soulmate. As he should. So, not stalking. And maybe, if bucky only really needed it, he would remember that window so he could pay you a visit. Not stalking you, he just cares about you. For some reason.

Bucky can hear Steve calling him a punk in the back of his head. He missed steve.

On the other end, you dragged yourself into your apartment and dropped your bag the moment you reached your room. Not caring to clean yourself up you flopped on your bed, with a long and painful groan. You felt a small weight down on your bed and you turned your head to see our cat sitting down next to your head. 

You smile and bring your hand to pet his head. “My savior. You are the only man I need.”

A soft purr vibrates from the felines, followed by a meow.

You sigh. “You're right. I need a shower.” 

Your mind wandered in the shower, as the water trickled down your body you couldn't help but bring your hand to your shoulder blade. Your finger traced around the words on your back. Your lip tug at your bottom lip. You nibbled at the already raw skin. Don't do that. You could practically feel the warmth of his hand on your face as your mind flashes back to when he was standing so close to you just moments ago. 

Bucky. There was no way you were going to let him haunt your head now. You turned the warm water off and grabbed your towel in annoyance. Drying yourself off and heading the fuck to bed. Praying that maybe when you wake up this whole day would be a dream. No soulmates, no getting shot at, and absolutely no getting flustered outside your apartment by someone you met an hour ago. 

–

 Bucky couldn't wait to see you again. He has been on the run from Hydra and Steve Rogers for too long; bucky had a hint on who would find him first. One night everything got to be too much. Parts of what hydra did to him are still very much a part of him, it was tearing him apart. It was getting harder and harder to diffrerencate what was bucky, the winter soldier, or this third feeling of pure absence of someone he didn’t know yet. He needed someone, anyone. He needed you.

You heard someone call for your name, they kept shaking you. You just wanted peaceful sleep goddamn it. You needed it. You rustled in your bed sheets, waving your hand at your roommate. She said your name again, and again, and again and ag–

“What!” you look over to see her, barely, in the dark of the room. “I'm trying to sleep!”

“There is someone in our living room.” she barely whispers.

Oh. “are you sure?” you squint at her. You don't know if she can even see you clearly enough.

“Yes.” another scared whisper.

What does a person around here have to do to get a full night's sleep for fuck sake? 

Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. Pulling back the covers and throwing your phone at your roommate. “Call 911 if I scream or take longer than I should.” you grab the metal bat in the corner of your room.

 The fucker that decided to rob you tonight picked the wrong house, knowing the amount of pent-up rage you had; you were sure you could knock out fucking Capitan America if you wanted. Just imagine your boss's face. You sigh, loud and hard footsteps echoed through your apartment. Rounding a corner and pulling the bat high up and–

Cling!

You braced for impact. You don't get it. You look up at whoever, whatever you hit. “You!”

You are angrier than you were when interrupted from your sleep. What is he doing here? In the middle of your living room, at least he's not wearing his stupid, edgy superhero get-up. Just normal clothing and a baseball cap, but you could see the outline of a gun through his jacket. 

“Can you put the bat down?” Bucky’s holding the bat, stopping you from landing a hit to his head. 

“No. what are you doing in my living room.”

His face scrunches. Pulling the bat down and yanking it from your hands. That fake arm of his was stronger than you expected. Bucky lets out a pained sigh, “I don't know but will you just listen to me and not hit me, please?”

You feel bad. “Maybe.”

Bucky looks at you and you swear he looks like he’s going to cry. The moonlight shining through your windows makes his face look sharper, defining his features more. You think maybe this is a dream because he looks really good. Bucky looks at you like you are his whole world, or maybe you will be someday soon. “I just…”

You’re quiet, you listening to him. Bucky realizes that maybe he will cry tonight. “I just need to talk to someone, anyone. Be with someone right now or… or…” he trails off, not wanting to think about what else could happen.

you feel terrible. “Do you not have someone else than a soulmate you've only known for an hour?” you joke, but he looks at you like it's definitely not a joke. Bucky's eyes are trained on the floor as he shakes his head.

His head jerks up when your roommate walks into the room. “Do I still call 911?”

“No!.” you and bucky yelled at the same time. Eyes snapping to each other after the syllable left your mouth, eyebrows furrowed and spite heavy on your face. Whilst Bucky looked one wrong move away from a nervous breakdown. Weird dude.

You motion to your roommate to tell her to go back to bed but before you can get any words out she’s shoving past you to get too bucky. “Wait.. are you... I’ve seen you on the news.” her hand raises to her face to cover her gaping mouth. Her eyes go wide and she suddenly looks like a ghost. “Oh, my god.”

What the fuck. “Seriously, jasmine go back to bed and stop gawking at my soulmate.”

She shouts your name like your mother would when you started cussing. “You are not serious. Do you know who this is.” her pointer finger goes towards bucky aggressively. Bucky looks panicked, you wonder why but based on this mood earlier; it was best to ask questions later. It was time to play dutiful soulmate. 

“Look, jas.” you grab her by the shoulders. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Just go to bed, please?” you guide– no, drag her out of the room and give her a final nudge away, despite her weird shouts about a winter something. You couldn’t care to listen.

“I’m sorry about her. She gets paranoid.” you release a breath you forgot you were holding, followed by a plop of the couch. Bucky settles awkwardly next to you. “You really shouldn’t go breaking into people's houses, buck.”

Bucky gets whiplash at the nickname, his mind goes to Steve and suddenly he feels out of place. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, you barely hear him. “I should go, this was stupid.” Bucky goes to get up and head toward the fire escape again but you’re quick, grabbing his wrist. Bucky could have pulled away from you if he wanted, but he crumbled under your touch. Bucky holds his breath like he’s going to drown.

Bucky’s days kinda blend together. He likes routine, but there was no routine to have when you're doing what he does. You met him two weeks ago, it felt a lot more than that, or less. He couldn't tell but your touch made him feel like everything was so far away, he caught his breath for the first time in weeks. 

Bucky thought about spilling it all out, his past, his everything. But that would defeat the purpose of coming here. That talk could wait. “I'm sorry that you got me as a soulmate.”

You smack your lips and scoff. “As your body should say– uh, somewhere.” you wave your hands dramatically, “I don't even know who you are. Nothing to be sorry for, yet.”

His lip quirks up. “Except scare your roommate half to death.”

“Maybe wouldn't have happened if you used the doors.” you smile at him, Bucky’s sure he wouldn't be able to see it without the soft light of the moon shining on your face. And maybe it's just his super soldier-enhanced senses, either way, he’s soaking it up like it's the only time he’ll ever see it. 

“Doors aren’t really my thing.”

You scoff. “I'm not sure what that means but, at least go through my window next time.”

“Noted.”

“And knock!”

His lip quirk turns into a small grin. “Also noted.”

Bucky glances over at you, you’re biting your lip again. He wants to kiss you. He settles for pulling your chewed lip from under your teeth before it bleeds, just as he did that night outside your apartment. You smile, thinking that maybe you'll let him stay around for a while.

You realize that Bucky didn't walk you to your door that night, and didn't even make it inside the building. Your eyes furrow, and confusion and… amusement fills your body. “So did you stalk me the past few weeks or did you just kindly ask my landlord which unit I lived in?”

He pauses, hoping you wouldn't ask about that. “I wasn't stalking you, I just notice things.” 

You laugh out loud, and he's caught off guard by how nice it sounds ringing in his ears. “That's literally what a stalker would say.”

“I'm serious, I've been busy doing stuff these past weeks.” Bucky tried to reassure you he wasn't camping out on the roof of the building across your window like an actual stalker would. You haven't decided if you were going to believe him. You just laugh because you feel weirdly good with him in your presence. You curse to yourself, why did the universe always have to be right?

You don't care to respond so Bucky continues. “So you're not going to ask me about what your roommate was talking about.” he turns his head to look at you. He can practically see the gears turning in your head, and he gulps. 

You shake your head, eyes trained on whatever is in front of you. “Nah.” you look at him.

Bucky thinks you're the most interesting person he's met in a long time. He’ll test the waters. “What if I'm dangerous.” he narrows his eyes at you.

You narrow yours back at him. “If you're not going to kill me or you're not an avenger, I'm not too worried.”

“What do you have against the avengers?”

You groan. “It's a long story, but they are the reason I don't watch the news and why my roommate is a paranoid freak.”

Oh. so you really don't watch the news. Bucky thinks. He feels guilty when he feels a sort of relief go through his body, followed by more panic realizing he had to explain everything to you soon. Not now though, god no, not now. Maybe he could get by with not telling you at all. Bucky mentally punches himself in the face, no that wouldn't be right. Plus he was sure your roommate would babble to you about how badly the news painted him. Maybe him telling you first would be a better idea. 

“Have you ever heard of the winter soldier?”

-

The golden rays of the sun showed down onto Bucky's face, he looked over to the window hearing the loud bustling of city life below him. Your curtains are brown with white detailing. Bucky shifted on your living room couch, he gauges his mind for the memories of last night. Everything was still all so hazy. 

What day was it? Oh, last night. He tried, really, to get out the truth to you. Fumbling over his words and trying to even remember who he was, it was too much. But you, a god-given gift, told him he was too tired to talk, gave him water, and sent him off to bed on your couch. 

“You can give me your tragic backstory tomorrow, get some sleep weirdo.” you had said to him before literally pushing him onto your very comfortable couch, before returning to your room for the night.

Bucky didn't sleep, he felt oddly safe and comfortable. But he couldn't sleep. Honestly, he was close to dozing off before your roommate had woken up just before sunrise to quietly go off to work, he assumed. Bucky couldn't tell what time it was, he was guessing it was probably around 5 or 6 am. He ought to get up soon and leave. Should he leave without saying something to you? Is that rude? He was sure you'd be okay with getting him out of your hair, he was already enough of a problem to people around him. Bucky gets up to grab his boots.

“Did you even sleep?” Bucky flinches, confused as to how easy it was for you to sneak up on him. He looks up and sees you leaning against a wall, assuming you just woke up. You're still dressed in comfortable clothing, your sweater falling down, giving him a full view of your collarbone. Your skin glows in the soft sunlight. Bucky shook his head in response.

You hum, your feet shuffling across the wooden floor as you make your way into the kitchen. You start making your coffee and Bucky follows. His eyes go to the table, is he intruding if he just sits down? He stands in the doorway and watches you make your drink. You turn to bucky with an oversized mug in hand, deadpanned. “Can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker. Sit down.” 

You motion to the seat next to you. “Not a stalker.” bucky mumbled, and you scoff.

“You want something to drink? I got tea, coffee, juice, anything your heart desires.”

Bucky pauses. “Water?” 

“Boring.” your eyes roll and you grab a bottle of water from behind you. Handing it to him, his finger brushes against yours. Bucky’s eyes dart to see your reaction, but nothing.

You get comfortable in your chair and open up your phone. Bucky is still sitting across from you, glancing between the door, window, and his water. He tries to look anywhere but at you. You quickly notice, a smart-ass comment comes to mind but you decide against it. Keeping the comfortable silence going for now.

You glance at Bucky, noticing the way his hair was still a mess from whatever he was doing last night. Quickly you realize this is the first time you've seen him in natural daylight, his eyes are beautiful and his usually dark hair looks closer to a light brunette. You could imagine going out on a date with him if he wasn't so dark and broody, but doesn't that just add to the appeal? Maybe.

You set your coffee down. “So…” trailing off, bucky finally makes eye contact with you. “You want to try again?”

Bucky's eyebrows furrow. 

“I still haven't told me who the winter soldier is and it's taking everything in me to not use the internet.” you wave your phone around in the air before setting it down next to your coffee. Bucky purses his lip. “But, I respect you and wouldn't do that.”

Bucky's eyes are trained on the table, his mind trying to find any starting point for this. Should he just tell you about hydra? Start from the beginning with the 40s, fuck, he barely remembers any of that. He's not good with words anymore.

“Can I just…” he pauses, tapping his finger on the wooden table. “Show you?”

It was a bad idea, a really bad idea. Bucky told you that but you'd instead not question him why, bucky wasn't going to elaborate on that either. With both Hydra, the US government, and Steve Rogers looking for him, being in public wasn't the safest. Especially at such a hotspot for Captain America bootlickers and history nerds. 

After many lazy complaints from you, you and bucky made your way out of your apartment together. Bucky wore the best casual disguise he could conjure up, and you and he stood in front of the Smithsonian museum.

Bucky glances over to you, a reasonably confused look plastered on your face. “Why are we at a museum?”

“Just follow me and don't draw attention to yourself, please?”

Instead, You roll your eyes and go ahead of him. “Stalker activity.” bucky hears you mumble before he follows you into the front door.

“What are you showing me, stalker.” bucky walks side by side with you, your presence is comforting in the crowded area. He noticed a group of elementary kids walking around, probably on a field trip.

“Stop calling me that.” he mumbled, “Captain America exhibit.”

Bucky looks at your hand, he could grab it. Only so he doesn't lose you in the crowd, just to keep you safe. Not because he wants to hold in, not because the quick graze of skin this morning left him wondering what it would feel like to hold you. Bucky decides against it and keeps walking.

“Isn't Captain America the like co-leader of the avengers or something?” you ask, bucky just shrugs? You see the large blown-up screens of steve roger and roll your eyes. 

Bucky's eyes lock on his memorial tribute. “Don't freak out and you can ask me questions after we leave.” 

Your face is littered with confusion again as you look at him, but you nod and turn to where he's looking at. 

“..Best friends since childhood, James ‘bucky’ Barnes and steven rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield…” the voice spoke, highlighting a memorial on bucky. Your eyes widen after realizing the bucky standing next to you was the one talked about.

Your eyes travel to the photos of Bucky. One standing next to Steve Rogers with big smiles plastered on their faces, and one of just him. His hair is shorter and he looks much younger. There is a shine in his eyes you don't see now, a bright look that hadn't been snuffed out yet. Bucky watches you as you process the information given to you, watching for any negative or even mad emotions. You lean closer, reading the sign. Bucky was from Brooklyn, a sergeant in the military, he had 3 sisters and he was born in 1917 and he died in 1945. Well, obviously he didn't actually die, more like presumed dead.

“That's…you?”

bucky nodded slowly, eyes trained on the photo of him. He couldn't even recognize himself anymore.

Bucky scans the area, looking for anyone that may have recognized him. he lets out a very shaky breath. “Okay, we've been here too long let's go.” he really wanted to grab your hand on the way out. You don't look at him on the way out. God, did he ruin this already? He wants to punch himself.

You both make it outside, the cold morning wind gives you whiplash. It feels good. You turn to look at bucky and he kinda looks like he's going to have a mental breakdown, you don't blame him. What you just saw explains so much yet, leaves you with more questions than before. You don't think. You grab his flesh hand in hopes of being some comfort, praying that it doesn't make it worse. It doesn't. Bucky doesn't flinch this time but feels his heart jump out of his chest. 

“Are you done with being outside or can we go somewhere?” bucky gives you a nervous and almost… pained look. “It's safe, hidden away and I know the owner,” you reassure him. Bucky reluctantly nods. I'll go anywhere with you as long as you keep holding my hand. And with that, you drag him through new york to your favorite-less-likely-to-get-shot-up coffee shop. It's small, always empty and the owner is an actual sweetheart. 

The bells ring as you waltz in, bucky very close behind you, still holding your hand like a lost child. “Gary! Honey I'm home!” you shout with a wide, playful grin on your face, bucky gives a sigh of relief after noticing that it was indeed empty today. 

An older man comes out from the back, along with a girl who looks like she should be in high school behind him. You wave and give him a warm smile, leaning over the counter slightly, “the usual, please?” you glance back to bucky, “.. and a water?”

You turn to bucky. “Sit anywhere, I”ll be right over in a second.” 

He hums, releasing him from your grasp and suddenly he feels a little empty and more awkward than before. He goes to the table in the farthest corner. Front door. Window. Back door. You. he checks off the list and settles against the wall.

You grin. “How’ve you been holding up, old man.” you tease. 

Gary, the owner. A wonderful and long-time friend of yours. When you first moved to new york years ago this was the first place you went to. You became a regular and you watches workers come and go, you came here when you needed quiet to work or sometimes just to snag a free drink from Gary since he just adored you so much. 

His niece, Emma, was in high school now and worked here for the past year. You would help her study during her breaks and in return, free coffee, and pastries. She was a good baker. You didn't have family here in the city so they were the closest you were going to get to anything like it.

“Not too much, dear.” Gary gave you a warm smile, his eyes squinting. He glances over at bucky in the corner. He laughs “Got a pretty paranoid date over there, I can see his eyes hitting all the exits.”

You scoff, not expecting any less from him. “Not a date, but sadly my soulmate.”

“Finally!” Gary’s eyes light up, and you give him an annoyed look. “Oh be happy about it! Emma won't stop nagging about how she hasn't found hers yet.”

“Have not!” you hear the girl shout from across the bar. You laugh and shake your head. 

Gary hands you your drinks and you bid him a quick bye, knowing he’ll just go back to his crossword puzzles in the back. Heading back over to sit next to bucky and hopefully find out he's not a zombie that's been raised from the dead.

“Your water, sergeant.” you joke, praying it doesn't hit a bad spot. Bucky was surprised by the name, he can't remember the last time someone called him that. His body feels weird.

You don't speak for a moment. You sip at your drink, hoping it will kick it as you didn't get your needed caffeine intake for the day as bucky was dragging you out the door to the museum.

You look at him through your eyelashes, he still looks like he's going to break down any second. 

“Are you a zombie?” 

“What?”

You set the cup down. “You died. So you must be a zombie. I can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker zombie.”

Bucky's lip quirks up. You're such a dork, he thinks. He almost laughs, it more or less came out as an amused scoff. “I'm not a zombie, I didn't die.”

“Museums these days… always spreading fake information,” you mumble into your cup, taking a quick sip. Bucky smiles, slightly.

“No, I…” bucky trails off, you keep up with the jokes yet you give him a comforting, understanding look. “I fell off a train in the war, I was supposed to die.” bucky catches his breath, talking shouldn't be this hard. “I didn’t, Hydra found me and put me on ice.”

Your eyes perk up in understanding, “like Captain America, right? So why are you on the run then?” bucky looks down, and both of your hands are cupped around your drink. He wants to grab it.

“I'm not Captain America, I did a lot of bad things when Hydra had me. I killed…” Bucky trails off, and memories of Hydra came back to him. All he hears is the sound of guns, and all the blood, he can still smell it. The electricity buzzed in his head as Hydra did their best to strip everything from him, take everything out of him, and then put it back in. bucky can see it all.

You grab his hand and it stops, he just feels you. Your hands are so warm and he wants to cry suddenly. “You don't have to tell me, I do know about Hydra. They did fucked up shit, I know. I'm sure whatever you had to do, wasn't your fault.”

You lean in. too close. your hand raises to his face and you wipe away a stray tear. Had he been crying? 

Bucky lets out an unsteady breath. He can do this, you deserve an explanation. Bucky repeats in his head. He squeezes your hand gently. “They turned me into an assassin, they gave me a mission, and… I did it. I didnt know who I was before, but I didn’t... I didn’t know anything. I just knew my target.”

Your eyes are focused on him. “They had me on ice for most of it, like steve, that's why I don't remember anything. It's all so… foggy. I was sent on a mission and when I completed it I got put back under.”

“And when they needed me again, they'd just bring me back up again.”

“Like I was leftover food for them.”

You don't speak, you didnt dare to right now. Bucky's eyes were filled with anxiety as he watched you process the information. Your eyes fell, and you fiddled with your coffee cup. He saw you bite your lip again, he wanted to remind you not to. But the comment was lost in his throat. Bucky felt sick.

Say something. Please.

Your eyes glance at the silver metal shining between the cuff of his jacket and glove, something shines in your eyes, Bucky’s not quick enough to catch it before you're looking down again. Bucky is now convinced he ruined things on the first day of actually knowing you. He feels like he's going to throw up. Bucky is uncomfortable in his seat and suddenly the fresh warm air of the cafe makes him feel like he's suffocating. He goes to leave and never looks back, but your quicker this time. Grabbing his metal wrist before he gets the chance to stand. Bucky doesn't flinch this time.

“Buck, sit down.” you look at him now. “I don't hate you, calm down.”

He gulps. “You're scared of me though.”

“No.”

Bucky blinks at you, once, twice. “Why. I've killed so many-”

“Don't do that, bucky.” you shook your head at him. “Don't do that to yourself. I'm not dumb, you were a prisoner of war, a victim. You had no choice.”

A victim… he hadn't heard that word be used to describe him. 

Bucky's throat goes dry. His leg bounces under the table, he can't look at you. Bucky's eyes dart to the clock. Tick, tick, tick… the door. The other door. He feels trapped. 

You whisper, “bucky.”

Your name is the only thing that manages to escape Bucky’s lips. He sniffles, “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Hey, guys! Everything okay over here?”

 Emma's cheering voice interrupts Bucky, you both flinch back and your hand retracts from Bucky’s hand. He feels cold. Bucky's cold hand wipes away any extra tears left. You mumble a quick response, and a few thank you’s and she left a muffin in front of you. Bucky hears her footsteps receding. He should have heard her coming up, when did he get so useless? That could have been an enemy and, boom. He's dead. 

You push the blueberry muffin in front of bucky. “You like blueberries?” bucky looks at you, the muffin, back to you. Your lips are in a straight line, but your eyes are smiling. 

“Plums.”

You were caught off-guard. “What?”

“I like plums.”

You hum in response and split the muffin in two. One for you and one for bucky.

The next hour is mostly silent, bucky ordered a coffee of your recommendation. Well, more like you ordered it for him and guilt-tripped him into drinking it. It was sweet. You ordered another large cup and bucky takes a mental note to make you drink more water in the future. Your hands grasp your coffee and a book, he wants to hold it again. He wonders what it would feel like to hold you, all of you. 

He looks at the crossword puzzles you stole from the back for him. How could he possibly do a crossword puzzle when you're sitting in front of him? Bucky would glance up at you and he'd catch you looking at him, he looks away, and vice versa. Bucky is not shy, but sometimes he just gets nervous. How could you not? I mean, just look at you.

Your book falls from your grasp. “I don't want to intrude, but you are my stalker so I think I'm allowed to just a little.” bucky rolls his eyes. Your tone turns more serious  “Just tell me if I am intruding though…”

Bucky doesn't respond and lets you speak. You're hoping you are not going into a sensitive area. “How did you get out… is that why you're on the run?”

Bucky inhales sharply. His eyes flutter. A simple no was all he could push out. You don't know bucky well, but the look he's sporting is enough for you to stop asking any more questions. 

The clock reads 9:30. Shit.

“Fuck. work, I forgot about work.” you stand from your chair abruptly, the wooden chairs scraping against the floor. “I- we gotta go.”

I have nowhere to go, bucky thinks quickly. Before standing up with you, he doesn't say anything.

Grabbing both of your cups and chucking them in the trash, before returning the books to the counter. Bucky just stands there awkwardly, watching you. You notice and mumble a quick, “stalker” under your breath. Bucky pushes back a small grin. You gab his metal hand, covered by a glove, and push something into his hand. a key?

Bucky's eyebrows furrow but before he can get anything out. “You can't possibly think I’ll feel good knowing my soulmate is out on the run, probably sleeping behind some dumpster like a raccoon?”

“My roommate doesn't get home till tomorrow, and use the door his time!”

And with that, you’re speed-walking out, a soft jingle from the door as it closes. Bucky stands dumbfounded in the middle of the cafe as he blankly stares at the key in his gloved palm. His legs feel like jello. A soft cough from behind bucky brings him back to earth, it's the old man.

“Don't break their heart, I may be old and..” the old man, you said his name was Gary, looks bucky up and down. “...you may be big, but I'm sure I got a good right hook in here somewhere.”

Bucky feels warm and normal. Like he was a 15-year-old boy meeting his date's dad again. Bucky nods.

“I promise I will keep ‘em safe.”

tag list; @i-l-y-3000 @ivywasmaroon @waywardcrow @alana4610 @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief

[that-one-weird-kid-from-school]

Oh me oh my, I really fucking hate time!

Yeah, I know, I have been complaining a lot about time recently, but even if I made 3 2-mile long posts a week for 5 months and 11 days straight about how much I despise time, that would only show a third of my pure hatred for time.

Every day I go to sleep; and every time I go to sleep, I never expect to wake up tomorrow, I never expect tomorrow to come, yet every time I do; every day when I am thrust into reality, it never feels right, it always feels like this shouldn't be happening, but I just gotta deal with that and wait until I fall back asleep only to eventually wake up again, wake up tomorrow.

Up until soon, I did not think of anything when I went to sleep, I wasn't expecting tomorrow, blissfully not thinking about time, but I now think about time, and the more that I think about time, the more I despise it; so recently, when I go to sleep, the only thing that I think about is how much I wished and begged for tomorrow not to come, to not wake up tomorrow.

But tomorrow always comes.

But today, I had a plan to outsmart time: if I willingly chose to sleep all day, then there wouldn't have been no tomorrow, because tomorrow never came, because I slept through all of tomorrow.

So that is what I tried to do, when I felt myself waking up, I chose to not open my eyes, I stayed in sleep mode, I stayed in my blissful state of mind where there is no time for so long; but eventually, I have been woken up at 1:30 PM, apparently, the package that I ordered has arrived; the plan has to go on hold, I need my beads.

And so, I went outside to get my package; on the way there, I got new string, and also, I saw an amazing notebook, it worked perfect for my plan; also, that was a fine notebook, and I know what I'm saying, I have seen my fare share of notebooks, I have a whole library of notebooks, that notebook was very thick, but sadly, it was a yearly notebook, so I need to wait for the next year to come.

That journey took a lot out of me, I did not drink any alcohol but, every minute that passed, I felt less and less sober, my brain is fogging up every moment that I don't watch piercing fail reaction videos; in the end, I went home half the man I used to be, but at least I got my beads; but when I checked the time, I saw that it was 5 PM, how the fuck did that happen, I went outside immediately after I woke up; the crazier part still was when I got distracted for about 10-30 minutes, it suddenly got to 9 PM, like, no fucking time has passed and now it's dark!

I swear, time really wants me to fucking die.

But, I can hear you from the other side of the screen, with your little nose, saying something like, "I get it, man. Time is an ever-present force that affects us equally. No matter how much we run away from it, we can never escape, time always catches up. And even if we die, time will still keep going; if the entire human race dies one day, time will still exist forever more. We are nothing but ants trying to lie in such an immovable reality called time." Shut the fuck up; you don't know what we're saying, you bitch-ass; go get some real problems and then talk to me.

Or you might be saying something like "what's your deal with time, dude? i get how it feels when you lose track of time and then it flies by. but when you pay attention to it, it is pretty reliable. i don't see why you hate time so much" To that I say: good for you, go sit in the corner right there and be ignorantly blissful and don't bother me; I don't want to explain to you the horrors that I experience every day, but in short, I have a fucked up sense of time, 5 hours ago genuinely feel like yesterday; and trying to make a reason to that is a fucking nightmare.

It really seems like time wants me to die earlier than I would usually do, but I won't do it yet, I have a job to do; if I hear another word come out of your goddam mouth, I swear to fucking god, I'm gonna punch your chest so hard that it breaks your internalized clock; we'll see who's laughing now when that constant ticking and tacking drives you so mad that it leads you into doing desperate actions!

I swear, this time thing is going to be the death of me...

[glove23]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I WAS TAGGED BY @nooowestayandgetcaught THANK U ILY

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

- 158

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

- 325,837

3. What fandoms do you write for?

- any and all that I know/like!! I have the most fics in kinnporsche, hp, and grishaverse, but I write for a lot of different fandoms

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

- Meeting Your Maker (Literally)

Harry Potter, Time Travel AU, 64,543 words

- a colorful past

The Batman (2021), Jim Gordon/Bruce Wayne, 688 words

- Your Makers Meet (Figuratively)

Harry Potter, sequel to MYML, 30,726 words, incomplete

- I'm not leaving your side

Love in the Air (2022), Whump, 1,307 words

-no body, no crime

Kinnporsche: The Series (2022), MURDER, kinn kills vegas, 943 words

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yeah! I try to at least, I have a huge backlog to get through whoops. I started writing in the era of ffn where like half the experience was talking back and forth in the reviews and then pm-ing and that's how I made a lot of friends that I still have today. and without that kind of comment culture and the author replying to messages, I might not have ever started writing.

someone replied to my review very kindly and asked why I didn't have any fic, my ideas were awesome (hair flip) and that made me realize oh. I don't have to Just read, I can also write the stories

and the rest is history

but fostering that kind of community, just talking to people who love the things you love, is such a fun part of the fandom experience for me and so I'll always reply to comments (eventually. I'll always get there eventually.)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

KDHAJCHSJXJSJZ I DONT KNOW HOW TO TELL YOU THAT I HAVE A WHOLE SERIES WHERE I JUST KILL PEOPLE AND WATCH THEIR FRIENDS GRIEVE

but that being said, the answer is

into the wind (Love in the Air (2022), prapaisky, MCD/suicide

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

uhh. this one I don't actually know but imma say

love me there (His Dark Materials, lyrawill, fix-it, lyra finds will again after the events of s3)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

yeah, sometimes! 👍 don't do that

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

sometimes. not very often, it's usually M-rated if I do, but just. yeah. I don't know how to answer this

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yep!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes, many times! back in my OG ffn days, and then a few times with @nooowestayandgetcaught

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I'm gonna say percabeth but I don't think there Is a real answer to this question, bc I love so many of my ships So Hard that just thinking about them makes me cry

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

......I will finish every wip leave me alone (I WILL FINISH YMMF I PROMISE) work in PROGRESS and the progress may be slow but it's PROGRESS

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue I am so fucking good at dialogue, and character interaction. definitely my strengths

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

descriptions. I am too lazy to do them all out the way I want to and so I just kinda. skate by

except in guess I misjudged you (gods I loved you) that one is PACKED bc I spent 9 months on it so

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

mmm unless I know someone I can talk to and get accurate translations, I don't really do this bc I am so afraid of conjugating wrong and google translate is SHIT. but when I do I try my best

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson! in 2012 on ffn on an account that still exists but I will not give u the name of. 🥰🥰

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

as of rn (October 2023) it's

guess I misjudged you (gods i loved you)

Percy Jackson, Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage AU, 56,438 words

it is my BABY and I think one of the best things I've written tbh

#2 would be

if you don't like it (lie)

KinnPorsche, kimchay, MCD, 3,516 words

it's just so delightfully painful and it's the one I show to everyone I show kp bc I'm obsessed with it

ANYWAYS THATS ALL THANK YOU!!!! if you wanna do this feel free to say I tagged you 💞

@seaweedbraens @perseannabeth @karin848 @waitingondaisies (y'all don't have to do this. but ✨✨)

[clonerightsagenda]

His Dark Materials season 3 continues!

These were slightly less grueling although part of it might be that I had a task to work on while watching. I still get the sense that they dragged out every beat with a bunch of additional conversations whenever they could. Maybe that would be more welcome if I was watching this week by week as they were released rather than in a row.

Episode 5:

Oh thank god the mulefa do have their seedpod wheels, just not all the time.

I bet Mary wishes her degree was in botany, zoology, or anthropology, not theoretical physics.

We really speedrun the mulefa plotline in this. I wonder if it's difficult for show only people to follow? I naturally can fill in the gaps without thinking about it too much. The take that Eden is a savanna filled with rollerskating elephants remains bold.

They put Mrs. Coulter back into skirts... the monsters. Mrs. Coulter x pants is the real flagship of this tv show.

Will misgendered his daemon but then immediately switched to "her" when he talked about her being with Pan. Maybe the reminder that Pan is male tipped him off.

Going to the land of the dead and saying 'do you guys want to like. leave' remains a power move. Love a good harrowing of hell/afterlife breakout. The walls being piles of cast off objects from the living world is an interesting addition.

Roger: I've changed. My mom: I got a lot older. Me: It turns out if you die you can still go through puberty. It's part of our torture.

They cut the liar/Lyra bit with the harpies which is a shame. I guess they sort of used it earlier with the guard in the entry area of the land of the dead calling her a liar. Still all the harpies stuff is kind of out of order, with Gracious Wings saving her before they made their deal. Also instead of human heads the harpies look like they are part turtle.

Will and Lyra: languishing in hell Mary: hot girl summer

They sure dragged the bomb thing out. Honestly I don't hate it missing Lyra because the target locked too early, considering 'a ghost magically knows about the bomb and they defeat quantum entanglement by giving her a haircut' was kind of an ass pull. I also don't necessarily hate the rift being the angels retaliating, since it makes Metatron a more major player before his defeat and it makes the increasing loss of Dust a more direct part of the 'battle'. It does sort of undercut so much of the damage to the worlds being humans fucking shit up in the name of the Authority though. The angels in the book really don't do much, and I think that's by design. Also talking to you, Good Omens showrunners.

Episode 6:

Nooooooo not more voiceovers

Ruta lampshades it in the books but really how did Lord Asriel build his massive compound with foundries in like 2 months after crossing universes with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Asriel seeing a giant rift rip open between worlds: clearly this is about me

Mrs. Coulter: Our daughter is dead. Asriel: *read 4:16 pm*

Mrs. Coulter is like what they say about converts being the biggest zealots except she's converted to parenthood

Sergei got sucked into the rift? Ok so they racebent Ruta, made her clash with Serafina as the more violent/impulsive one, gave her the tension with Mrs. Coulter, and then killed her off even though she doesn't die (at least onscreen) in the books. Not a good look, guys!

Adding some Roger/Will active jealousy rather than Roger just sadly observing how close he and Lyra are now while Lyra doesn't even realize it. Suppose that's harder to do in video. But Will are you really gonna beef with a dead kid. Let him have this

Asriel and Iorek talking is show!original but I'll let it slide because it was satisfying to see someone finally hit Asriel

Will's dad finally (vaguely) drops the lore about the wrong world killing you, even if he didn't make it sound fatal in the same way. You guys couldn't have even had him dramatically coughing up a little blood in the last season? That's a classic

IDK why Will's dad got to explain what happens to ghosts while Lyra keeps saying she doesn't know. Babe you have the alethiometer

They didn't have Lee and Will's dad stick around to be a gay ghost warrior duo! I'm genuinely surprised considering how they went out of their way otherwise to give LMM more scenes.

Mrs. Coulter heart to heart with the golden monkey. Golden monkey sympathy arc has been THE most surprising adaptation change tbh. Not even joking about this

[predoom]

ohoneohone

Friday, November 11th, 2005 12:35 pm i won't tell a soul if you dont want me to. hearts between our knees sticking to summer sheets. Saturday, November 5th, 2005 4:59 pm keep me fast the way he runs his mouth its a wonder that i havent caught a flight home just for a second alone the way he runs my mouth makes me hate you just as much as him thank god i spend most of the daylight dreaming in wine colored beads the sun never caught me right when i was little i splash water on my face in sinks in green rooms like pinching yourself or trying to wash the miles off down a dark hotel hallway the finger prints in pink and blue like skin and veins i try to jump from the doorway to the bed so i dont leave footprints so i dont disturb the carpet like sand you want shyer eyes you want bigger "im sorry"s and regrets for things that i.Yo.u. did you want survivors in the wreckage you want flashlights in the cave you want second chances for second chances i loved everything about you that hurts your scars, your flaws, your not so subtle attempts at wit and irony that always fell a bit short and felt forced your insincerity, your imitation that you passed off as exploration your morning smile 3 year stand (off) her breathing is shallow she shakes whenever i get near- i guess its an occupational hazard its okay we dont have to talk. youre just a body. heaven sent and percoset. even though we're fading fast.... im sorry "pretty"- you were just a canary in a coal mine. Tuesday, November 1st, 2005 7:57 pm there are many things that i would like to say to you but i don't know how im not even too sure what goes on, especially in my own head. one second its one way and the next its another. i have a funny way of showing i care. but i do. i have to say it- halloween wasn't the same this year with out you. i i had the best time ever in southern california. but it wasn't really halloween with out you. and new years won't either. my calls go out today but they'renot picked up. i get what i get. i got some friends who are wearing their egos on their sleeves. its ok. i'll play dumb. you are a shadow of who you once were. "can we start agains" ive had my share. for the past month my mood has been however our phone calls ended. it felt like i was dying inside when i hung up the phone on you. but i have to make a point. you can only act like dirt for so long before you become it. but theres nobody like me and you. i feel like veins and ligatures when you aren't around. and breathing in isnt the same when you're not breathing out. percoset revolutionary. "look mom, no breathing". fucking fading. fucked up, but not cool fucked up. maybe we rip the map in half and someday we meet up in the middle. by accident or just because. everything and everyone ends up faced down on the floor in the end.

you are my wonderwall. Wednesday, October 26th, 2005 6:51 pm my mom said 'make sure you go to sleep smiling tonight baby cause you'll wake up feeling better" i just re-read everything you wrote over the past two months.

i miss my friends.

there is life after this. i promise myself. Tuesday, October 25th, 2005 10:51 pm everything they say about us is true im watching scary movies like every afternoon. i got some new slipper and pants. i look ridiculous. dreamboat. the inside of my head is always changing. even right this second. when i go back over all the details it makes me so glad im not in that town anymore. all of a sudden we're always in the crosshairs. it kinda feels normal now. we used to goof around about killing ourselves off. but sometimes it wasn't a joke. i can't sleep when the bus isn't moving. went to the fender offices today, they are gonna make me some basses. pretty exciting. the only thing ive ever learned is that its pretty easy to say "i love you" its alot harder to mean it. my friends are dropping like flies. everyone looks good when they are the one with their fingers on the keyboards. history is written by the conquerer. we're headlining an amphitheater tommorrow. thats retarded. fistfightking. makeoutqueen. past midnights. get amazed.

Current Music: 2sweet Sunday, October 23rd, 2005 9:42 am you see that kid... its not me, its you. blow out the candles on caring. encounters yesterday: went to paul walls jewelry shop. pretty insane. then when we played jared leto came over and watched. radio shows are wack. encounters today: the gold medal gymnast from the 2004 olympics is coming to hang out with me. pretty insane. why would you ever want to meet a boy like me. i am boring. you make it easier to make the decisions that i do. i turned off the switch that cares. i watch lots of movies and take lots of naps. cause i am a baby. i am gonna be in the academy video for black mamba. i can't tell you how excited that makes me. Wednesday, October 19th, 2005 11:48 pm ill be on time for that, i cant think of a line that rhymes with that blue looks better than jealousy. im awake but not up. you know what i mean. blew the speakers out like a candle. drowned out my sorrows in a wet dream. i miss you but only in flashing moments. new stuff over at buzznet. people been asking about the prices. honestly we charge what it costs us to make. alot of the stuff lately has been cut and sew or requires hand stitching which is expensive. so we try to keep the stuff really limited, so that it stays special. the bags sold out in a day. we won't be making anymore of that particular bag. but we will be making more limited bags and other items. Tuesday, October 18th, 2005 4:48 pm i, peter lewis kingston wentz, solemnly swear... im trying to figure it out. my head moves way faster than my mouth. i went to a party at chris from nsnyc's house for a party. it was about as good/bad as you would think. except dirty was there. so factor that one in. always up or down, never down and out.

the new nightmare of you record is fantastic. it makes me think of winters at home. love it or leave me. Sunday, October 16th, 2005 12:45 pm baby, im just bad news i don't know if it feels real been watching halloween movies lately to get me in the mood taking lots of naps its easier this way she wont ever love you the way she loves me youre not pretty enough and you dont make her heart beat been hiding messages in morse code and anagrams banging my wrist against the edge of the keyboard until it turns black and blue we're all settling all the time panic! at the disco makes me want to start this all over again coversations with you make me want it to never have begun at all nick plan and william beckett are on the list in one form or another always if you dont have your friends than you dont got shit and my friends are gold halloween is gonna be the best this year i think ive never been in california on halloween- it once was, but it hasnt been for a really long time spent most of the morning on the phone with my mommy cause she can always slow my breathing down you can get used to anything after a while even this, pete pretty boys for secret girls later skater Wednesday, October 12th, 2005 12:02 pm ill make you shake so hard you might not make it through the night new york city is fucking insane. get me. bruisa. fall makes me remember and want love.

okay okay cause i should:

1. you say crazy shit in your sleep, like about us living in old milwaukee. 2. right this second "wonderwall" sometimes star wars. 3. i dunno cherry coke flavored. 4. sugar tail, freckles in your eyes, basement windows, braces 5. new years on the windowsill. 6. uh kind of in a weird way the retriever head on the beagle body. just the nicest dog ever. 7. that one bane lyric, im pretty sure its a question. but mostly lately- what happened to my best friend?

nick york city. the clan party last night was rightious. im kinda going other places. feeling it. quit sleeping on it cause im the life. from the back of my legs to the back of my neck- im so glad there are people out there who won't let me fall off the face of the planet.

young.

panic at the disco at the knitting factory in new york tonight- 5pm. Tuesday, October 11th, 2005 12:57 am you remind me of this one movie. it makes me smile. but not with my mouth and way too many teeth. but with my eyes. trouble loves me. but you do way more. im dreaming on highway lines and phone hang-ups. just happy to be me. for one second.

i got a sweet vest and some teddy bear shoes. im good for cuddling. youre gonna have to trust me on that one.

[myoshome]

Even though that life's path is full of rocks, I just hope that when I stumble… I still have teeth.

 As I am writing these words, it is now 9:30 pm on March 22, 2024.

I'm a new blogger, and blog with the main purpose of making money, but over time I think that this is a quite suitable place for me to relieve a bit of the burden and negative emotions in life.

I've been writing for nearly 2 months, and have been viewed by 42 people, while my friend, in the same period of time, had 200 views. The feeling of having to watch my friends excel while I still fall behind makes me really helpless and I feel very useless. At first, I only had 8 viewers. Somehow, that friend helped me increase to 35 people in just a few blinks of an eye, through some magical moves that I didn't understand.

I was very suspicious when he said he had 7 Google accounts. I didn't know if that guy was crazy and pitied me enough to use all 7 accounts to help me increase my rank or not. Even though I really hate pity, if my friend really helped me increase my salary in a cheating way out of pity, I think I would still forgive him. If it's true that strangers linger to look at my posts and that's the real power I have, I may feel hopeful and happy then.

See the title, anyway I don't want to show you too much of what I'm concerned about. Yes, I laugh at the difficulties in front of me and if it were human, I would tell "him":

" Beat me if you dare!"

Thinking positively, failure is the mother of success, so I still try to believe in myself every time I feel down and want to give up, the voices in my head keep trying to wake me up every time I feel like I'm falling when my body at some point fell into a state of contemplation and discouragement.

I have a family, a like-minded friend and a dream to take care of. I am now much more focused and disciplined. Other things, no matter how terrible, are probably just trivial matters after all. Sometimes when I sit alone in my room and lock the door, I often think about whether I am too weak or not. I fear myself, sometimes I hate it, because I both writing blog and write books. ... for nearly 3 years in a row and now I still haven't earned a penny. If I didn't have my family and friends by my side, I have no idea about WHAT THE FUCK would I be now?

A persistent loser, hahaha. Anyway, compared to the pressures out there, studying and everything I'm doing now isn't too stressful, so I'm forcing myself to gradually get used to this. My friend will go to America in a few months, which will probably be fun, I have to enter high school, try to study hard, graduate and go to university, hold a degree in my hand and make a living for myself.

But I really don't want my life to go like that, so here I am, a 14-year-old boy and his friend trying to make money with all their ability, gradually accumulating it, even though I still not earn any thing. There is no any fucking bucks for me to accumulating.

Stepping on the path where few people dare to step, even if at that time, you pretend to be brave, you are actually very brave. If you are like me and my friend, trying to pursue your dreams no matter the circumstances, then we are quite similar. The fact, enormous amount of people around us hay sacrified there own dream to find money, just to pure living or exist on this fuking Earth. 

Just keep trying, let's continue walking on this path, if you fall then get up, if your leg is broken then just drag, it's okay to be slow but just keep moving forward, don't forget there's still a lot things and a lot of people are counting on us behind our back. Don't fucking give up, soldiers, it's you the one who have been choose to live on this life, God give us a purpose, we must find and DO IT!

Hope God will always give good things to those who dare to believe.

May God give better things to those who persevere.

And may he also give the best to those who never give up.

I also hope he will give all of us one more day to keep trying to move on.

Wishing you a good day 

[lloydenthusiast]

more greenflower drabbles!

still another fluffy one! only tws for this baby are implied/referenced depression.

hope yall enjoy! drabble under the cut

Lloyd rolls out of bed at three in the afternoon to rapid knocks on his door. He doesn’t move with any urgency—Why would he? It’s a Saturday—as he meanders to the front door as the knocks turn to shouts.

“Lloyd! Come on, man. You can’t seriously still be sleeping.”

“Shut up.” Lloyd mutters a response. He would shout it but that takes far too much energy for a Saturday. He reaches the door, stepping over dirty laundry covering his dorm room floor, and pulls it open to reveal Brad, smiling far too brightly for him to handle this early in the morning.

“Were you seriously still asleep?”

“Have you met me?”

Brad snorts. “Yes,” he says. He takes a step into Lloyd’s room, kicking the door shut behind him and toeing off his shoes. He wrinkles his nose. “God, it stinks in here.”

“Did you just come here to insult me?”

“No, of course not.” Brad sets a paper bag down on Lloyd’s desk chair—one of the only clean surfaces in the room. Cause, you know, he sits in it—and begins picking up pieces of paper off of the floor. He reaches for one of Lloyd’s shirts. Lifts it, sniffs it, and promptly wrinkles his nose once more. He gives Lloyd a look. “Dude.”

“You are so annoying,” Lloyd says “What’s in the bag?”

“Clean up and I’ll show you.”

Lloyd gives him his Death Stare. Patent pending, of course.

Brad grins. “Grumpy, eh?” He makes Lloyd’s bed quickly—Really, quickly, like at a speed that Lloyd seriously cannot comprehend—and sits on the comforter. “Remind me not to talk to you in the mornings.” He pauses. “Oh, wait, it’s 3:00 PM.”

Lloyd walks over to the bag.

“Wait!” Brad hops off of Lloyd’s bed, hurrying over to the bag. “You won’t be gentle enough.”

“What is it? A grenade? A snow globe? A lightbulb?”

“Only one of those was a normal guess,” Brad mutters. He pulls some tissue paper out of the bag and sets it down on the chair, slowly unwrapping—A plant?!

Lloyd stares at it. Stares at Brad. Back at the plant. Back at Brad.

“Well?” Brad says.

“It’s … green.”

“It’s for you!”

“For … me …”

“Yes, dumbass.” Brad picks up the plant, a small, round cactus with spikes. “It’s prickly, like you are in the …” He glances at his watch. “Afternoon.” He smirks.

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Brad holds out the plant. “I thought your room could use some … sprucing up.”

Lloyd raises an eyebrow.

“I’m serious,” Brad deadpans. “It’s disgusting in here.”

Lloyd grunts. But he takes the plant, peering at it. It’s small, certainly pokey, and honestly sorta cute. “What do I do with it?”

“You take it outside to play catch.”

“Really?”

“No, you dumb fuck, you water it.”

Lloyd glares at him as Brad grins that stupid shit-eating grin again. Don’t be fooled, Brad only seems nice.

“I know that,” he snaps. “But seriously, why did you get it?”

Brad shrugs. “You know,” he says. “To try to put a smile on that frowny face of yours.”

“I am not—“

“When was the last time you’ve gotten out of bed before noon in the past two weeks?”

Lloyd opens his mouth. He shuts his mouth.

“That’s what I thought.” Brad plucks the plant from his hands and walks over to the windowsill, setting it down on it. “Water it every month.”

“Month?!”

“Cacti don’t need a lot of water,” Brad says easily. “Just give it some love. Talk to it, I dunno. That’s what I do with my plants.”

“Of course it is.”

Brad laughs a bit. “Well, if you won’t talk to me about what’s going on,” Brad says quieter. “At least open up to someone. Even if it’s a cactus.”

Guilt swirls in Lloyd’s stomach. “Right.”

Brad gives him a smile. “Take care, alright? And I’m serious, at least get some Febreeze or something. Or maybe take a shower?” He reaches out, ruffling Lloyd’s surely-greasy hair. Lloyd shoves him off.

“Catch you later?” Brad asks. “I know you like to wake up on your own.”

“You say that,” Lloyd grumbles. “But you woke me up anyways.”

Brad winks. “You bet.” He heads to the door, shoving on his shoes. “Lemme know once you’re up, we can go get coffee.”

“At three?”

Brad shrugs. “Sure.” He pulls open Lloyd’s door. “See you!” and leaves. He pulls the door shut after him.

Lloyd heads over to the plant on the windowsill and sighs.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, little buddy.” He picks it up, turns it in his hands. It’s … cute.

He supposes.

[reinarandraw]

“Sam is here for you, Boss,” Fang called from the manager office’s door.

OFMD Rare Pair Week 2023 @ofmdrarepairweek​

Day 01: Coffee Shops / Roommates / Confessions [art & 1.5k oneshot]

You can read a quick oneshot for this fill on [AO3]  or you can read it under the cut

“Sam is here for you, Boss,” Fang called from the manager office’s door.

Izzy looks up from Queen Anne’s Coffee daily cash book on his laptop and takes a deep sigh. For four weeks on every Wednesday around 4-5 PM, a man dressed in nice suits always visits their coffee shop and makes the same order. A medium size cup of hot black coffee. He’s polite, charming, and always leaves a big tip. 

Sam only wants Izzy to brew his coffee.

Four weeks ago Izzy was forced to cover the afternoon shift because Ivan needed to go A&E due to food poisoning. Around 5 PM, a man dressed in an immaculate suit entered the slightly crowded coffee house. Although he was accompanied by a tall bald man who seemed to be his assistant or bodyguard, his presence stole everyone’s attention. He walked with the confidence of a man who was used to living in the spotlight. He smiled at Izzy when it was his turn to order.

“Hello, one black coffee please,” the man said with a low rumbling voice that managed to shake his core.

Izzy didn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe it was possible for someone to fall deep for someone’s voice.

Izzy learned the man’s name is Sam and he also learned that Sam was very peculiar with his coffee.

“God damn, this is the best coffee I’ve had since I arrived in London,” Sam told him with a big smile. He sounded American. “You, sir, are a genius. Can you tell me how you brew this?”

Since there was no line, Izzy humored the man and answered his question. By the end of his explanation, Sam was so happy with him, he left a tip in the tip jar.

“What the fuck? That’s enough to buy another cup!” Izzy pointed out.

“For your excellent coffee and your excellent impromptu tutoring,” Sam told him. “Until we meet again,” he said with a wink.

That wink almost gave him a heart attack.

Sam’s next visit was during Fang’s shift. Because Sam asked Fang so nicely for Izzy, Fang did his best to drag Izzy out from his little office. The next one was during Ivan’s shift and Ivan immediately came to find him without being asked by Sam.

And now is Sam’s fourth visit.

“Boss, your crush is waiting,” Fang teases him.

“I don’t have a fucking crush!” Izzy denies as he walks out from his office. He does have a crush on Sam, but no one needs to know.

“You should ask for his number,” Fang suggests while following Izzy.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Izzy dismisses him. “I’m not a fucking teenager.”

“Why not? He seems to be around our age,” Fang argues. 

“He’s a customer.”

“Then why were you two flirting with each other all the time?”

Izzy’s steps come to a halt. He turns around to face Fang. “What?”

“You chatted with him even after you gave him his coffee,” Fang explains. “You hate small talk.”

“It’s not small talk. He asked me about coffee!” Izzy insists.

“Sure.” Fang nods his head even though he has a mischievous smile on his face. “Just ask for his number, Boss. It’s been five months since your divorce with Ed.”

Izzy grumbles. He doesn’t like to think about his ex-husband Ed. Thankfully, their divorce wasn’t that messy because he could prove Edward was cheating on him with Stede fucking Bonnet. Edward was also happy to give the ownership of Queen Anne’s Coffee to Izzy since he claimed he was bored of managing it. Edward lived and worked with Bonnet in Gentleman Dining now, off with his fancy rich boyfriend. Good fucking riddance.

“Just ask, Boss,” Fang says, “the worst he can do is saying no. I’m pretty sure Sam likes you as well.”

The thought of someone like Sam liking him makes his heart soar. “You think so?”

“Me and Ivan think so,” Fang says.

The coffee shop is a bit crowded at this hour, yet Izzy finds his eyes falling on sam. It’s hard to ignore the man since his double breasted suit looks too expensive for the neighborhood. His easy going smile greets him, making his ridiculously good looking face shine even more. Izzy tells his heart to stop beating too fast.

“Welcome to Queen Anne’s Coffee,” Izzy greets him as he puts on his apron.

“Hi, Izzy,” Sam answers, “one black coffee as usual, please.”

Izzy immediately moves to the coffee machine and starts to make Sam’s coffee. He’s acutely aware of Sam’s eyes on him. He doesn’t understand why Sam’s gaze makes his hands tremble.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Sam says to him.

“Fuck, yeah. Sorry,” Izzy mumbles.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asks, voice fills with concert that compels him to tell this man his woe.

Fuck, fuck. How should he approach this? It’s been too long since he asked someone out. Can he just ask for someone’s number out of the blue?

“Izzy?” Sam asks again when Izzy seemingly has stopped working. Izzy looks up and stares directly at Sam’s eyes. “Can I ask for your number?”

Sam is still smiling at him, but his eyes look a bit confused. “My number?”

Shit. Did Ivan and Fang misread the whole situation? Fuck! “Yes. Your number,” Izzy confirms. Fuck, he hopes this won’t be too embarrassing.

Sam leans to the counter. The confusion is gone, replaced by amusement. Izzy doesn’t know if this was better or worse. “You want my number?”

“For fuck’s sake, if you don’t want to give it just say it!” Izzy cut the chase, face starting to get warmer. “No need to be a dick, you twat.”

Surprisingly, Sam breaks into laughter. “Oh my god, this is the best day of my life. No one has ever called me a twat right to my face.”

Izzy frowns. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you,” Sam explains. “You caught me off guard with your question. People don't just go to me and ask for my phone number. They usually go to my assistant first."

Izzy stares at him dumbfounded. Is this a rich people thing?

"Do you have a napkin so I can write down my number?" Sam asks.

After he gives the napkin, Izzy continues to prepare Sam's coffee while the other man jots down his number. At the end, they swap the coffee with Sam's phone number written in a neat big number.

"That's my number while I'm in London," Sam tells him. "Do me a favor and don't give that to anyone. There are only four other people who know that number."

Ah, so this must be his personal number. Izzy feels honored to get this number. "How long are you going to stay in London?"

"For another month at least," Sam replies. "But I just closed a big deal so I'm sure I'm going to go back and forth between New York and London pretty often for a year."

That sounds promising. Another reason why Izzy was reluctant to make a move was because he wasn't sure how long Sam would be here.

"If I don't immediately reply to your message, it doesn't mean I'm not interested," Sam tells him. "I'm probably busy. Having clients all over the world also means I have virtual meetings at odd hours so I have a weird work schedule. But rest assured, I'll reply as soon as I have the chance. I promise. I really like to get to know you better, Izzy."

Izzy wants to say more but a new customer has entered the coffee shop.

"That's my cue to leave," Sam says. "I'll be waiting for your text."

With Sam's gone, Izzy goes back to his office to continue his work. It's close to seven when he's finally done with administrative work so takes a break by browsing through the newsite. It's good to keep updated with the recent news. Who knows what fucked up shit the British government is brewing right now.

His eyes catch a newly published article about how a big American holding company would start their business here in the UK. The article includes the photo of smiling people whom Izzy mostly doesn’t recognize except for one person.

Sam was there in the photo.

Izzy already feels  his brain is short circuiting when he sees Sam. His mind makes a mental somersault when the article said that Sam is none other than Samuel Bellamy, the founder and chairman of Bellamy Group, a multinational corporate group from America. 

His mind is completely blown when he googles Samuel Bellamy, he’s not aware of Fang knocking on his door.

“Boss, I’ve been calling your name but you don’t say anything,” Fang says. “Are you ok?”

Izzy turns to Fang. With a look of horror, he says, “I just asked the phone number of the sixth richest man in the world.”

Izzy doesn’t know whether he should be thrilled or horrified by this revelation.

[aizenat]

Unless you’re someone with endometriosis, or other issues that make your period unbearable, I find women who make posts lamenting about how periods are so annoying and a waste, especially “because I don’t even want kids” to be tacky and all around really self deprecating and woman hating.

I take the week I’m on my period as a moment to rest. To justify a couple of days in bed and taking it easy. Prioritizing my sleep, and just being gentle with myself. I don’t want kids (for now at least) either, but I still respect and honor what my body is doing. There is a large amount of the population who goes through this and we are the only ones with the power to create life. Even if we’re not using that power, this process is part of an intricate system that is designed to keep me alive and well. I easily build fat on my body because of this process. I have the superior chromosomes and am more likely to survive famines because of this process. We carry the blueprint of humanity in our wombs and yall just bitch because it hurts a bit (that’s what ibuprofen is for) and is a bit messy (period panties are a thing now; invest. Also life is messy and we’re all gonna die one day who cares?).

Anything I could find annoying about being a woman is man created. Ie, the patriarchy that disrespects and undervalues my godly abilities and capabilities. But my body? My hormones, my uterus, my breasts, my endocrine system; just like my heart and my brain and my lungs and my organs and my bones and my skin, it is all here to take care of me. It is here to protect me. To keep me alive and well in case I do one day decide to tap into my godly powers and give life. And if not, oh well! It doesn’t make me less of a god, nor does it mean this process is a waste.

One day the bleeding will stop and, me willing (me=god, get it?) I will still have 30+ more years to live. Until then, I embrace every cycle, every cramp, every dip in energy, every pms meltdown, every sore back, every aching and heavy breasts I embrace all of it. This is our experience as women and I think modern western women’s refusal to see it as anything other than a painful annoyance and hindrance once a month is a huge reason why women, even the so called feminist ones, have become the biggest actors in the current anti feminist backlash we’re witnessing rn. The same women who say shit like that are the same ones defending everything men do, the same ones who mocked Amber Heard online last year (and continue to do so), and are the same ones who go out of their way to come down on any “problematic” woman a million times worse than they would a man for the same crime just to “prove” to men that they’re so feminist that they’ll call out women too. As though women are anywhere near the type of threat that men are.

Fucking respect your ovaries and your fucking gender, jfc.

[papercutsunset]

Gold and Steel

Listen-- PMS has been kicking my ass and I forgot to edit this yesterday. Even now, I'm hunched over because (glitter here) the nausea's back. BUT!! The Bloodsaw brainrot is also back. This would take place right before Tunnels of Terror. (Also, peep the Harrison Bergeron mention. Remember how Bloodsaw died protecting him and then he died of [redacted]?)

WIP: The Monster Lesbian Support Group

Word count: 998

Prompt: Sex (didn't use it much. It's more implied)

Warnings: some homophobia stuff (mentions. it's 1997.)

Sitting on the edge of the bed with her sweater undone, Laura fumbles the chain of her cross. Putting it back around her neck is always an issue of fingers on lobster claws and chewed-down nails aching. She isn’t the one who needs to wash her hands, anyway. 

I would consider doing it for her, but I’m not sure why she wears it. It’s not faith. She told me that months ago, sitting on the hood of my car in a secluded spot by the edge of the lake where nobody could see us.

I know why, I suppose. It’s not a question worth asking. Appearances need to be kept up, right? Laura Mandarin needs to be the pristine, god-fearing former-high-school-cheerleader as much as Caroline Bradshaw needs to be the opposite. They would blame the fry cook at the Dairy Prince for corrupting such a vulnerable girl as Laura Mandarin. Never mind that all this was her idea. I know how the blame game works. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It’s a small thing, the cross. Delicate. Gold. Treasured. She got it when she was twelve, back in Pine Valley. How fitting, compared to the steel up my ears and in my eyebrow. 

I toy with the edge of the curtain, propped up on one elbow by the window. The plaster is crumbling again. It’s a side effect of living in this shitty second-floor-apartment with a shittier landlord in an even shittier town. I fucking hate this place. 

The only question worth asking, while I shrug my bra and shirt back on, is, “Do you need a ride?” 

She takes her hair out of the back of her sweater and lets the blonde waterfall cascade down white polyester. “Don’t you have to get to work?” 

“Don’t answer my question with a question.” 

Laura looks at me over her shoulder, eyes connecting across every plane of existence. “I don’t need a ride.” 

“Alright.”

“But I’d like one.” 

My heart skips a beat. I’m not going to admit it. “I’ll drive you home, then.” 

“Will you help me?” She holds up the cross, dangling from the gold chain, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. 

You could call me hypnotized. It’s a moment of intimacy in the dark of a room in the morning, a moment of intimacy before we go back to acting like nothing ever happened, a moment of hands brushing hair from her neck so I don’t catch it in the clasp. 

She’s the perfect picture of America. Not late-nineties-hip, but pure. Skirt down past her knees when she pulls it back down, sweater neat and tucked in, cross hanging delicately around her collar. It’s like these moments together that make things feel right: her hands in my hair, tangling black snarls around slender fingers, rings cast on the floor, the sheets tousled and left as askew as us. 

I move her hair back into place and lean around her, the snake around Eve’s torso. “You know, I don’t have to get to work for another hour.” 

She giggles when my fingers brush her chin. I melt in turn. But, in the way the routine dictates, she shimmies away. “I have to get home. You know my dad worries.” 

“He still thinks you’re seeing some guy named Bloodsaw.” 

“Yeah, and he isn’t stoked.” Laura stands, smooths out her skirt. When she turns around, she leans down over me with her hands squarely where she had been sitting. “But I am.” 

She plants a quick kiss on my mouth before I turn my legs and get out of bed, stretch myself out, and stare the day in front of me down the barrel. It’s a routine I’m used to. I wash my hands in the kitchen sink. Breakfast is peaches-and-cream oatmeal and toast with cream cheese. She does her makeup in the bathroom; I put on pants before we leave; she only entwines her fingers with mine when we’re alone in the hall or the stairwell. I’ll take what I can get, even if I want more. 

I drive her home to the sound of the scat station on the radio. We mostly listen to it as a joke, a merit patch for living here. It goes by all too quickly, and then we’re at her father’s— and then her hand is gone from my leg, and she’s out on the curb. 

She leans down to look at me through the window, hair falling to frame her face. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I’ll see you at the party later, right?” 

Right. That dumbfuck rich kid tunnel party I explicitly wasn’t invited to. I swallow. “Yeah, sure. I have to work, though, so I might be late.” 

“That’s fine. As long as you’re there.” She assesses my face, reads something I didn’t mean to write there. “I want you there, you know.” 

“I know. I’ll try.” It’s a promise I don’t mean to make. It rests on my tongue, anyway. 

“Good.” Her grin is May sunshine; I wish she would kiss my cheek. “Maybe we can sneak off, if we’re careful.” 

I can’t hold back a soft laugh. “With all your preppy friends around?” 

“Oh, Care. I know you like cheap beer, and there’s going to be plenty. Harrison promised.” 

Harrison, that fucker. Laura captivates me, though. That’s the issue with having a girlfriend you would do anything for. “Fuck. Fine. Okay.” 

Another ray through the clouds, lips wide over perfect white teeth. “Good! I’ll see you there.” 

She takes my hand in hers— gold-painted nails on steel rings through the window of a car I know is going to break down later. The blame game doesn’t work here. This is a moment where she didn’t watch her last boyfriend die; this is a moment where I don’t kill demons because angels told me to. There’s no blood on our hands and faces. It’s just us.

I want so desperately, it hurts. “I’ll see you there.” 

[azritesx3]

Touch Starved - Shane&Cassie

Description: Due to what happened to him in the city, Shane decides to close himself off from the rest of the world. He was one step away from completely shattering, and he didn't want to let anyone in just to disappoint them in the end.

And he was doing just fine in keeping up this facade, until she moved in.

—---------

FebuWhump2023 - Day 1: Touch Starved

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A/N: Hello! I try not to make goals for myself for the new year since I cannot seem to keep them…but I want to get back into writing. One random day I came across the "FebuWhump2023" challenge on Tumblr and thought…why the hell not? I have no idea if I'm writing a "whump" fic correctly…but I'll just roll with how I'm feeling and try to remember "whumps" aren't supposed to be "happy happy joy joy" and it's ok to let my evil/dark side out.

AO3

~~~

The spring season was finally in full bloom. Wild animals started emerging from their months-long stay in their dens. Birds flew and sang almost non-stop throughout the day. The wildflowers bloomed and the trees grew back their leaves. Everything came back to life in the spring.

And Shane hated it.

Every spring reminded him of how he came to be in this situation. How years prior his life was falling apart while the earth came back to life. Now he was back in the valley where he spent the majority of his childhood. A place that now held his only good memories, though those memories were soured with the lifestyle he chose to live. 

It's incredibly difficult to stay closed off in a place that was so small and the people in it so caring. Especially now that she's officially moved in.

It's 7 pm now on a Friday night. Most of the villagers have all trickled in by this point. Shane's made it a habit to watch them from "his" spot at the dark end corner of the bar, fireplace and Gus's wood-carved bear statue behind him.

Cassie Nova, the new owner of Universe Farm, walks into the saloon. Gus and Emily warmly greet her, as well as the other patrons nearby. Shane grunts and rolls his eyes as she greets them back. She walks up to Gus to place her order, then sits at the bar and idly chit-chats with Emily while she waits. Shane sulks as he watches them chat, and various other villagers come up to chat with the new girl in town. Just like everyone else, the new farmer was touchy too. Light touches on the shoulder, small pats on the back, and feather-like touches on hands at some funny joke.

It infuriated him. Contrary to what he's now made himself to be, Shane used to be just like them. Funny how one experience can change a person, break a person. He still craved small affections like that but continued to force himself to push everyone away. He can't let himself be hurt like that again. It may just very well end him, and he was already hanging on by a very, very, thin thread.

The hardest person to ignore was his niece, now turned God-daughter. But he does it. He hates himself even more for it, but continues it.

Who knows how long he has left anyway. Best not to give the girl hope only for it to be crushed…again.

Movement on his left peripheral brought him back from his thoughts. He looks and starts at the sight of Cassie placing her food and beverage down next to him. She looks at him and gives a half smile, "This seat taken?"

She's just barely sat on the stool and it's already too much for him. He feels like he's physically burning in the heat that her body is radiating next to him. He musters up as much of his coldness as he can trying to stave away the heat in his cheeks, which seems to be unsuccessful.

"Fuck off." He mumbles, clutching his beer and staring hard at the wood bar counter. He can feel her stillness, lasting only a second before she gives a humorous huff. He looks back at her with a questioning stare. He watches her move her plate and drink one spot over to the left and sits down. One bar stool between them.

"Alright alright." She says before giving him a soft smile with concerned eyes, then focusing on her meal.

Shane cracks a little bit more inside and returns to his drink. He knew keeping this up was going to be difficult, but now with her here it was going to be damn near impossible.

He may just die from the struggle alone.

[crmsnmth-journal]

7/18/2024 10:52 PM

You ever have one of those days that is great, without any real reason? That's what I had today. I mean, it was a smooth day and everything just clicked, but still. From the moment I woke up this morning, it's just been a really good day. I needed it. Badly. My brain is doing it's thing again but there was nothing to bitch and whine about. And if you've been paying attention to my journal, there is always something for me to bitch and whine about. It's what I do.

Anyway, I went in to the alley for an hour and did some basic maintenance for the kitchen. And after that I headed to AV (Apple Valley). It was really slow when I got there, so I had some time to get fully accustomed to the line and where everything is it. But when the dinner rush hit at about 4:30-5:00, I jumped on the fryers and just pushed through. And it was fun. For a little bit, we were in the weeds and Joe got kicked off the grill. I stayed on fryers while Shaun (our boss) jumped on the grill. Joe hit plating and we hit our stride. We made it through and at seven, I punched out and for the first time in four years, my boss said thank you. Made a sign of appreciation. I had almost all but forgotten what that felt like. A simple thank you made tonight easily one of the absolute best night I've had in a very very long time. I think AV is going to be a really good fit. I'm actually excited about Sunday, my twelve hour day. Who the fuck is excited about a 12 hour day? The whole goddamn world's gone mad.

I got home at about 7:30 and me and Jonah ended up just talking to almost ten. I feel so proud of hin. I still can't get over what a change he's made in the past six or seven months. It's like talking to a completely different person, Twice now we've ended up have conversations for a few hours, and not even realizing how long we'd been shooting the shit. It sure didn't feel like a couple hours. It's such a relief to see him become an adult. I mean, there's stuff that he does that's going to irritate me, but I thin that's pretty common in brothers. I never really realized it, but him and I are a lot alike in a lot of ways.

I wish I could see my other brother. I miss him being around. And I know he's on a really dark path and I don't want to see it, but at this point what can I do? I love Alex to death and would do anything for him and his family, without question. But I hate watching him fall so hard. I miss talking with him for hours about nothing. And god, I really miss my nephews. It still seems to damn quiet every morning without Bird in his playpen, chatting away. Or Z being the goofiest little ball of energy he could possibly be. I still have hope in them and a lot of faith that they will bounce back. I did. And if I can do it, so can they. Like I said, I love them all dearly, and would do anything to help them. I'm not even mad at them. I mean, I was, but that faded and was replaced with just a real deep sense of disappointment.

I cant end today with those thoughts to, so it's time to go be a misery poet and write until my meds kick in and put me under.

God, I really needed today.