#i know spotify wrapped came out like two weeks ago but the difference is that they already stopped recording data for that in october

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / 

read on ao3

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For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere. 

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?” 

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial. 

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped. 

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable. 

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most. 

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.  

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.” 

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon. 

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

 *********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was? 

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain. 

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured. 

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch. 

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak. 

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing. 

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came. 

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

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[bananayoshimoto]

why is the goodreads wrapped out already i am not looking at it i am not done reading for the year yet

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

[charlie-rulerofhell]

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is  very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 15

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Finding the One

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 8,857 (texts, thoughts, song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: Dean and Y/N find themselves so busy in the following weeks, that things blow out of proportion and they spend the night apart. Feeling awful about it the next day, they plan to apologise to each other but something unexpected stops them from that. Later, Dean and Y/N share a tearful apology, after the experience of nearly losing each other makes them realise what is truly important.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fighting, Hurtful words, Doubts, Insecurities, Guilt, Tears, Hurt!Dean (don’t hate me, it’s not for long), Hospital, Tears, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Oral sex (Female receiving), Dirty talk, Vaginal Fingering, Brief handjob, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), A whole bunch of fluff.

Music: Leather and Lace by Stevie Nicks & Don Henley (Y/N driving home scene), Do I Move You by Briana Buckmaster (Dean and Y/N date night scene), Ramble On by Led Zeppelin (Dean and Y/N end scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Well, this is it. The last chapter. I can’t believe it. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love for this series. I’m so grateful for each of you; every single one. You’re all the best. Epilogue will post next week, but happy reading and enjoy the final chapter! :)

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Two more weeks passed that were incredibly busy for both Y/N and Dean.

Dean had been swamped between the old and new sites, trying to fix up people’s cars at the old and then working with Benny on the car that had come in for restoration at the old site, but they moved it to the new. They had gotten this big job a few months ago, and had started then but moving it over to the new site had been a good decision as everything was more open and had more room to move around. They had so many people calling in with every model of car Dean had ever heard of, in different states and different forms of restoration that needed to be done. There were only so many they could book, and had to eventually tell people they couldn’t take any more for the next few months.

He had been coming home later and later, and barely had time to even kiss Y/N let alone do anything else. He really couldn’t wait until they hired a few more people and he could finally go back to his regular hours. They were in the middle of the hiring process too; yet another reason they had been so busy.

Y/N had a lot going on at school as well. There had big tests she had given her students in both grades and had a lot of grading to do. While that was happening, she also had to plan lessons for the new content they had to cover, while also taking on a few tutoring duties after school for the kids that really needed help, in order to get to the high school level by September.

She had been coming home later than usual, but then she would cook and leave something for Dean to eat so that when he came back late, he wouldn’t come to bed absolutely starving. She had barely seen him, always falling asleep before he got home because she was so exhausted herself.

She really hoped things would slow down soon for both of them so that they could have more time together.

Y/N was in the middle of grading tests when she heard the front door open and close, and then Dean’s boots in the hallway. She usually did her work in her office at her own house but considering she had just made a quick and easy pasta for dinner over at Dean’s, she decided to sit at the dining table after eating and grade the papers there.

“Hey, sweetheart” Dean muttered as he saw her, sounding completely wrecked.

She looked up at him, offering a small smile. “Hey. Food’s still hot, so eat up.” She went back to her grading as she heard him wash up and then sat down with his food, across from her at the table.

“How was your day?” he asked, taking a bite and looking at her.

“Busy” she replied, not looking up from the tests in front of her. She pushed her glasses up as they slid down her nose but made no move to look up at him.

Dean frowned as he saw her so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even look at him. He really wanted to take a few minutes to just be with her, considering they had barely talked in the last two weeks.

“Y/N, can’t you put that away for a while?” he asked, trying not to sound too frustrated.

“No, I can’t, Dean. This is important; I’ve been so behind with grading, and the kids are really getting antsy about their scores” she replied, shaking her head as she continued to look down.

“Sweetheart… we’ve barely seen each other. You can finish that in the morning too” he countered.

“I’m almost done, Dean. Please, just… let me finish. You can keep talking, I’m listening, okay?” She was irritable and really hoped he wouldn’t push any further.

“Yeah. Okay” he mumbled as he continued to eat. “Maybe… maybe we can go out on Friday night. God knows we haven’t been out, just us, in a long time.”

“We really don’t have to” she said, quickly glancing at him before continuing her work.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be good, we can finally relax” he said, smiling slightly, hoping she’d look up at him and actually agree.

She scoffed as she shook her head. “Yeah, and then you can leave me in the morning like you always do for your top-secret mission.”

An eerie silence fell in the house as Dean stopped eating. He put his fork down slowly as he looked at her. He kept calm as he thought about how to broach this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, calmly even though he was a little annoyed.

She finally looked up at him with her glasses on, and if it was any other day, Dean would’ve found it incredibly hot rather than scary. “It means that there’s no point in us going out on Friday night if you’re just going to leave the next morning and then not tell me what you’re up to.”

“Y/N, I need you to trust me, okay? I’ll tell you soon, I promise” he tried to reassure her, hoping she’d understand. “It’s something for us, for our future and I just want things to be perfect.”

“But do you really have to be away every Saturday? I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to think is going on, Dean? You’ve been busy during the week, the least you could do is spend some time with me on the weekend, but no! You keep leaving at the earliest possible hour and you come back late at night!” she said, glaring at him as her voice raised slightly. She got up quickly, the chair scraping harshly against the floors.

“You’re not supposed to think anything, Y/N” he snapped. “You’re supposed to trust me, that’s it.”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to do that when you’re never here” she scoffed as she walked away from the table and into the kitchen. Dean shook his head, following behind her.

“I’m not the only one who hasn’t been here” he threw back at her.

She laughed bitterly, and Dean felt his stomach turn at the sound.

“Really? Then what is all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the food on the stove. “I’m here every day, making sure you have what you need when you get back at god knows what time of night!”

“That maybe so, sweetheart… but that” he said, gesturing to the table with the tests on it. “That’s when you’re not here! I try to talk to you and you’re always so lost in what you’re doing, you can’t even hear me!” Dean yelled.

“Fine, then let me make it easier for you” she hissed, as she walked to the table and gathered up all the tests. She shoved them into her handbag, picked up her coat and put it on over her oversized sweater, to keep her exposed legs warm.

“Y/N stop” Dean said, shaking his head. “Please, stop.”

That was not going well at all and he felt horrible for even bothering her while she had been working. She was working. It’s not like she was ignoring him on purpose.

“For the record, this is my job” she snapped at him as she turned around. “And you holding it against me is something I’m not going to stand for.”

“Y/N, wait-” he started but she walked out the door so quickly, slamming the door behind her, he barely had time to register it.

He had the first thought of following her, but the second thought of knowing she needed space, stopped him. That was the first time they had fought, and it was bad. He had blamed her work for the reason she was distant, but it was the fact that he was keeping something from her that caused her to be so upset. Plus, all these days apart hadn’t helped them in their relationship.

He knew he had to fix this and soon. He just hoped he hadn’t royally screwed up.

That night after Y/N finally finished grading the tests, she angrily washed her face before putting on her pyjamas and getting into bed. She glared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, shaking her head. He was the one who was hiding something and then blaming her for being distant because of her work. She had to distract herself from thoughts and insecurities about what might be happening, with her work. He had some nerve to blame her for this.

Though… she hadn’t exactly helped by saying that he was never there. Yes, it was sort of true, but she knew how hard he was working at the new garage, while also trying to keep things up and running at the old one. She knew he loved his work so much and she never wanted him to think she would be angry at him because of it. She really hoped he wasn’t thinking that.

She knew she needed to sleep on it and figure it out the next day. She just hoped she could.

It had been a restless night for Dean. Not sleeping next to Y/N was definitely the biggest factor of that, but their fight had been playing on his mind all night too. He woke up to go to work and was yet to see her that day.

He hated that he brought her job into their argument. She was great at what she did, she was passionate, and she always supported him, so he had to support her too. He hated that for a minute back there he used it against her. He knew as soon as he got home, he had to speak to her. One night without her next him was enough to scare him. He never wanted to be without her, even for one night.

Dean: I hated not having you next to me last night. I’m clocking out early today, we have to talk, sweetheart. I’m so sorry about what I said. I love you.

He had sent her a message during the day and he just hoped that she would want to actually talk to him when she got home. He was going to make it a point to be home before her, so that she knew he was serious about this. He needed her to know that.

He was glad that work was a good distraction at that point. It was the middle of the day, he had a few hours left of work, and he had to tow someone’s car back to the garage. Hopefully he could continue to distract himself for the next few hours, until he returned home and dealt with the aftermath of the night before.

As he drove back to the garage, he stopped at a light and thought about what he was going to say to Y/N when she got home. He was scared and didn’t know if he would just end up ruining everything more than he already had. He couldn’t lose her. Not now, not ever. He really had to think carefully about what to say.

As the light turned green, Dean moved the tow truck forward, ready to head back to the garage. However, he didn’t have time to react as another car ran a red light and hit the tow truck on the passenger side, sending it screeching along the road a few feet away.

The last thing on Dean’s mind as he blacked out was Y/N.

The night had not been restful for Y/N either.

She was embarrassed about how she had reacted. She shouldn’t have doubted Dean and what he was doing. She always said she would trust him and now she made him doubt whether she did or not. She did. She completely and unconditionally did, but she did have her fears about what he was doing. If he couldn’t tell her, then clearly something was wrong. Or maybe nothing was wrong, and she was just a bitch for overreacting.

She was glad when she got a message from him saying he’d be home early. She knew they needed to talk before things got worse.

Y/N: Okay. I’m so sorry too. I do trust you, Dean. You have to know that I do. We’ll talk when I get home. I love you, so much.

She had spent nearly the whole day at work with this at the back of her mind. She was so distracted at work and everyone could tell that something was wrong. Some of the teachers had asked her if she was okay when she was in the staff room, but she just played it off like she didn’t get a lot of sleep. However, when Charlie asked when they went to the staff bathroom before their next classes, Y/N told her everything.

“I made a mess of everything, Charlie” she said, shaking her head as she leaned her hands on the sink.

Charlie shook her head, as she rubbed her hand up and down Y/N’s back. “No, you didn’t. Do you guys need to talk about it? Yes, of course, but you haven’t made a mess.”

“But I’ve made him doubt my trust in him. I don’t want him to think I don’t trust him” Y/N choked out, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

“No, you haven’t made him doubt anything, Y/N. He loves you, and he knows you love him, trust him. You just have to talk it out. He’s going to be the one to tell you everything, but all I’m going to say is that it’s a good thing; what he’s waiting to tell you. I promise” Charlie reassured her, smiling at her, softly.

“It’s going to make me feel even worse, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, frowning.

Charlie wasn’t going to say anything, but when Y/N lifted an eyebrow, she sighed. “Yeah.”

“Great” Y/N shook her head, closing her eyes.

“But it’s also going to make you feel really good, really excited, and that’s it. That’s all I’m going to say” Charlie said, trying not to smile as she thought about it.

“Okay” Y/N nodded.

The next class went on and on, as she taught the kids and distracted herself. She was incredibly glad when that bell rang at the end of the day and she could finally get home. She didn’t say her goodbyes to anyone, just picked up her bags and lunch that she couldn’t finish because she didn’t have the stomach for it and left the school.

As she drove home, she could feel her heart beating wildly as she thought about Dean coming home and what she was going to say to him. She had to fix this and promise him that she would never doubt him ever again. She loved him and she trusted him; she needed him to really know that.

As she drove, a soft melody started on the radio and she instantly knew what song it was.

Is love so fragile

And the heart so hollow

Shatter with words

Impossible to follow

You’re saying I’m fragile I try not to be

I search only for something that I can’t see

I have my own life and I am stronger

Than you know

But I carry this feeling

When you walked into my house

That you won’t be walking out the door

Still I carry this feeling

When you walked into my house

That you won’t be walking out the door

Y/N felt the tears in her eyes stream down her cheeks as she finally let out the emotions of what happened. All she could think about was how she did walk out the night before, and how she regretted it instantly but made no move to turn around and go back to him. How could she do that?

Lovers forever face to face

My city your mountains

Stay with me stay

I need you to love me

I need you today

Give to me your leather

Take from me my lace

The song hit too close to what she was feeling, and she flicked the button, turning the radio off. She was almost home, anyway.

She wiped her eyes as she turned down their street, speeding up to reach the house quicker. She parked in her driveway but frowned when she didn’t see the Impala parked at Dean’s. Maybe he was still on his way home.

Suddenly, her phone rang and she picked it up, frowning when she saw ‘Sam’ instead of ‘Dean’. She thought maybe he would call and tell her he was on his way, but as she picked up the phone, that thought was quickly replaced with worry when she heard Sam’s frantic voice.

“Y/N! Where are you right now?” he asked, his breath short as he sounded like he was rushing around, and he sounded scared.

“I just got home… Sam, what’s wrong?” she asked in return, feeling her throat constricting as fear gripped her heart.

“The hospital just called me, they said Dean’s been in an accident. I’m on my way but if you can get there before me-” he replied, but she cut him off as she turned her car back on.

“I’m leaving now!” she yelled as she hung up and pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road towards the hospital.

She tried not to let the worst possible thoughts enter her mind, but that was hard to do when it was one thought after another, constantly. She felt like she couldn’t breathe; like her throat was closed and she couldn’t even gasp for breath. She frantically pulled into an empty spot in the hospital parking, grabbed her bag and rushed towards the entrance. She went to the desk and tried to find her voice as the nurse behind the desk looked at her.

“I’m here to see Dean Winchester, he was brought in” she said through short breaths, as she tried to calm herself down.

“Are you his emergency contact?” the nurse asked, as she started clicking the mouse and typing something on the computer in front of her.

“N-no, I-I’m not, but his brother is on his way-” Y/N started but the nurse shook her head, sternly.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t tell you anything without Mr. Winchester’s next of kin here” she said, looking between Y/N and the screen.

“No, please, I have to know if he’s okay” Y/N shook her head, frantically, trying to reason with her. “Please, you have to tell me.”

“He’s with the doctors right now, but that’s all I can say. I’m sorry” the nurse said, giving her one bit of information she was allowed to give, which wasn’t very telling about Dean’s condition.

Y/N stepped back from the desk, letting out a sob she had been holding back as she drove over there. She cradled her head in her hands, letting the last several hours wash over her as she descended into silent tears, in the middle of the waiting area. Something could be seriously wrong, and she wasn’t allowed to know until Sam got there. She could lose Dean and the last thing that ever happened between them would’ve been that stupid fight. She felt the guilt settle in as she continued to cry quietly, trying to be positive but failing.

“Y/N!” she heard someone yell. She looked up and walked over to Sam as he rushed towards her, dressed in a suit. He had clearly rushed straight out from work.

“Sam!” she launched herself into him, hugging him tightly. “They won’t tell me anything, they said you had to be here.”

“Okay, it’s okay, come with me” Sam was being as calm as he could be, holding her hand in his as he walked over to the desk.

“I’m Sam, Dean Winchester’s brother” he told the nurse. “Please tell us what’s going on.”

“Dean was brought in after a car collided with his tow truck at an intersection. The doctors are with him but let me get an update for you” the nurse informed them and picked up the phone.

“Alright, thank you” Sam said, as he stepped away and sat down on a chair. Y/N sat next to him; their hands still clasped.

“Sam… what if he’s-” she started but stopped, unable to even say the words.

“He’s not” Sam shook his head, but he wasn’t sure whether it was out of conviction or denial. “He can’t be.”

“I fucked up, Sam” she whispered, as tears fell down her face.

He looked confused as he looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“W-we had a s-stupid fight yesterday, and I stormed out… and-and I-I slept at my house” she stuttered, not being able to say anything properly. “And now he… he’s here. If something happened-”

Sam turned to her, gripping her shoulders to make her look at him. “Nothing happened, Y/N. Dean’s going to be just fine, I feel it. And you didn’t fuck up. You and Dean will work it out. It’ll be okay, Y/N. I know it will” he reassured her, as he pulled her into a hug. She nodded against him, not trusting her voice anymore.

“Mr. Winchester” the nurse from before gestured to them, and they got up quickly.

“Yes?” Sam said, taking Y/N’s hand again. She felt like she was about throw up as she waited for the nurse to talk.

“Dean has a mild concussion, a cut on his forehead that the doctors sutured and bandaged. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation but he’s going to be okay” she explained, a soft smile on her face.

Y/N let out a harsh breath as she sobbed, hugging Sam tightly when he pulled her in.

“Can we see him?” Sam asked.

“Yes, he’s in room 302, 5th floor” she replied, checking the room and telling them.

“Thank you” Sam said, as Y/N picked up her bag from where she had been sitting and joined Sam at the elevator.

Y/N and Sam rode the elevator up to the floor and found the room, but Sam stood back as Y/N walked to the door. She frowned as he stood behind her, a small smile on his face.

“You should go in first” he said.

“Sam, he’s your brother-” she started but he stopped her as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I know how scared you were when they couldn’t tell you anything. You need this, Y/N” he smiled softly at her. “I’ll be in soon.”

“Okay. Thanks” she said, reaching up high on the toes of her shoes and kissing his cheek.

Y/N turned the door handle and opened the door, feeling like the wind was knocked out of her all over again. Dean was asleep on the hospital bed, looking small in the big, bare room sparse of any color. The monitors beeped at a normal pace as she walked in and stood near the bed. She took in his face, a white bandage on his forehead, some small cuts and scrapes on his cheeks and hands as her eyes travelled down his body. She felt tears roll down her cheeks as she sat down on the chair next to the bed. She curled her hand around his, sniffling as she watched him.

“Dean” she called out, softly. “It’s Y/N. I’m here.”

She saw his eyes moving under his lids, as he slowly started to blink them open, flinching at the stark light of the room. Dean’s head felt heavy as he looked around the room, his eyes finally landing on Y/N. She smiled at him through tears and he felt his heart soaring as he saw her there, in the room. She was there. He was there and he was alive.

“Y/N” he croaked, trying to smile at her.

“Shhh, don’t talk” she whispered as she took the plastic cup of water from his table and placed the straw to his mouth. “Here, slow sips.”

He took a few sips of water and gulped it down, looking at her as she put the cup down. He gripped her hand in his.

“You’re here” he whispered as he looked at her.

“Of course I am” she said, softly as she leaned down and kissed his hand. “Did you think… did you think I wouldn’t be?” she asked, scared of the answer.

“I… I would’ve deserved it” he said, coughing slightly. “For what I said to you-” he started but she gripped his hand, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Dean” she whispered, not wanting to think about that anymore. It was stupid in comparison to what happened.

“No, I shouldn’t have brought your job into it, Y/N. I’m sorry” he said, groggily as he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, too. For doubting you… for thinking you were being dishonest about something” she apologized, kissing his hand again.

“I promise I’m going to tell you… I just… I wanted it to be a surprise. And… I promise I won’t ever say you’re never here. We’ve just been busy, but we’ll make time. And I promise I won’t ever bring your work into an argument” he said, shifting a little so he was sitting up a bit more. She tried to stop him, but he was adamant on being to look at her properly and apologize.

“I promise I won’t ever doubt you again, or be angry about you working late. I know you’re doing it for a reason” she said, gripping his hand tighter.

“Come here” he smiled softly, as he tugged on her hand. She smiled in return and got up, sitting on the bed next to him. She leaned over as he lifted his other hand, pulling her in for soft, slow kiss.

She sniffled as she pulled away, more tears rolling down her face. “I hate that the fight could’ve been the last thing you remembered of me. I could’ve lost you today. And… they wouldn’t tell me anything until Sam got here-”

“Damn” he mumbled, shaking his head. “We’ll fix that tomorrow.”

“I was so scared” she cried, as she leaned into him, her tears beginning to stain his hospital gown.

“Me too” he admitted, as he pulled her in tighter. “I saw you before it all went dark. I saw…” he trailed off, not being able to tell her as her sadness got to him, a few tears rolling down his cheeks, too.

“I love you” she choked out, as she looked at him. He leaned in, kissing her harder than before, their desperation to be close getting to them.

“I love you, too” he muttered against her lips as he kept kissing her. “And for the record… there’s plenty of things I’d remember about you before that fight.”

She smiled at him as she moved forward, kissing him again, not wanting to stop.

“Oh, sorry” they both turned to see Sam standing in the doorway, his timing way off as he walked in on the emotional moment.

“Hey, Sammy” Dean said, as he continued to hold Y/N close.

“Hey” Sam said, sighing in relief as he saw his older brother looking alright for the most part. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah” Dean nodded, as he leaned his head against Y/N’s.

Sam and Y/N both stayed until visiting hours were over, as they weren’t allowed to stay overnight. She didn’t want to be apart from him for another night, but Dean told her it would be okay. Sam had already called Benny and told him what happened, telling him that Dean wouldn’t be at work tomorrow. Y/N had made the decision that she would take work off the next day and take care of Dean.

Y/N picked Dean up the next morning, filling out his discharge forms, adding her name and contact information to his contact list, before driving him home. For the rest of the day, it was like she was still at school as she told Dean to relax and to give it a day before he started doing things again. By the end of the day, he was so tired that he was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The following day, he was feeling much better and went to work for light duties, as Y/N also went back to work. When they got home, they relaxed and had a simple dinner, just spending time together that they hadn’t gotten to do in the weeks before.

Before they knew it, Friday rolled around. Dean was a hundred precent by then, and ready to take Y/N out that night. She had insisted they stay home but he had insisted harder that he was absolutely fine and ready to take her out for a much-needed date night.

Dressed in a gold, satin, strappy top and a black leather skirt that came to just at her knees, Y/N put on her black coat and black heels as Dean greeted her at the door. He was wearing a deep red, V-neck sweater and looks so gorgeous that she couldn’t think about anything other than ripping it off him.

Dean drove them into the city, feeling surprisingly okay about driving after the accident. He told her that had things been much worse, maybe he wouldn’t have bounced back to driving so quickly. He drove through the streets, parking in one of the side streets. They had a quick dinner at one of their favorite spots before Dean payed and then took her to where he really wanted to. They walked down the street, clinging to each other as the chill of the air blew around them. Dean led the way to where he was taking her.

Y/N smiled as she saw that he had brought her to a jazz club, walking through the velvet curtain and being brought to their booth table. The band was already on fire, a blonde woman singing her lungs out with a husky, whiskey touched voice that was electric. The lights were dimmed, a candle on each table adding to the glow. Y/N sipped her wine as Dean sipped his whiskey.

“This place is great” she said, smiling at him as she swayed to the music.

“I thought you’d like it” he smirked. “Think of it as an apology.”

“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for, not anymore” she shook her head, cupping his face. “It’s in the past.”

“Okay” he nodded. He looked into her eyes, smiling brighter. “God, you’re so damn beautiful.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at his complement. “Dean.”

“Don’t ‘Dean’ me, sweetheart. It’s true. I know how lucky I am to have you. Especially after what happened. It… it could’ve ended so differently” he grimaced, as he remembered the day of the accident.

“I know” she nodded, but then shook her head. “Let’s not think about it.”

“You’re right” he agreed, as he leaned over and kissed her, quickly deepening the kiss.

“Alright, this next one’s for all the lovers in the house” the woman on stage announced. “Feel free to join the floor.”

A sexy, slow beat of the piano and bass started, as Y/N watched a few couples get up and move in close to each other. Suddenly, Dean stood up and smirked at her, offering his hand.

“Dean, no” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Come on, sweetheart” he said, wiggling his fingers. She bit her lip and stood up, taking his hand in hers. Dean led them over to the floor, and pulled her in close, his arms around her waist, close to her behind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling at him.

Do I move you?

Are you willing?

Do I groove you?

Is it thrilling?

Do I soothe you?

Tell the truth now

Do I move you?

Are you loose now?

The answer better be

That pleases me

Dean swayed him and Y/N side to side to the beat, looking into her eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers, pulling her in closer.

Are you ready

For this action

Does it give you

Satisfaction

Are you hip to what I’m saying?

If you are now

Then let’s start swaying

The answer better be

That pleases me

When I touch ya

Do you quiver?

From your head

Right down to your liver

Dean’s hand moved up her back, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder blades, causing Y/N to shiver as she bit her lip and looked him in the eyes.

If you like it

Let me know it

Don’t be psychic

Or you’ll blow it

The answer better be

That pleases me

Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She cupped his face, holding him there, before he pulled away and winked at her.

“Let’s get outta here” he whispered into her ear, taking her hand in his and quickly leading her out, after paying for their drinks.

Dean and Y/N burst through the door of Dean’s house, lips pressed against each other’s as they pushed and pulled at each other’s clothes. It had been far too long since they had been together in this way, and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Get this off” she whispered against his lips as she tugged at his sweater. Dean pulled it up and his arms through it, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He reached around her and unzipped her skirt, watching her push it down and strip her top off too, leaving her in a black strapless bra and matching panties, thigh-high stockings and garter belt holding them up.

Dean picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom, dropping her gently on the bed. He smirked down at her as he breathed heavily, leaning down on top of her as he kissed her jaw, neck and travelled down her body. He kissed her breasts, licked a path down her torso and stomach, as he reached down and pulled her thong to one side, inserting two fingers into her already wet heat.

She moaned loudly, smiling as she felt the pads of his fingers rub along her walls. “Just like that, fuck. Dean.”

“I can’t wait to fuck you, sweetheart” he mumbled against her skin. “It’s been too fucking long.”

“I can’t wait, either” she gasped, as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, throwing her head back with a moan as he hit her g-spot with precision.

He moved his head down, his mouth finding her clit as his tongue swirled around the little bud. He moaned at the taste of her, not having done this in a while.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Y/N. Your pussy feels so great wrapped around my fingers” he groaned against her mound.

“Dean” she said, trying to reach for him impatiently. “Fuck me. Please.”

He chuckled as he moved away from her, looking down at her. “So desperate for my cock, huh?”

She whined frustratedly as she grabbed his hand gently and moved it away from her, his fingers covered in her slick. She sat up as he kneeled over her, unbuckling the belt and unzipping his dark wash jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers. She wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping it up and down along the hard shaft.

“Fuck” he grunted, feeling her hand against him. He leaned forward and kicked off his boots, taking off his jeans and boxers. Once he returned to the bed, he smirked as Y/N pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. She held his hard cock to her entrance and sunk down on him, letting out a long, loud moan as she felt him completely seated inside her.

“Fuck yeah” he muttered as he held onto her hips and looked up at her, looking so damn beautiful in that moment. Her eyes closed as she adjusted to him, her hair flowing down, her mouth hanging open. “Ride me, sweetheart.”

She planted her hands on his chest, using him as leverage to move her hips up and down, feeling his cock against every ridge inside her as she set a moderate pace.

“Dean… fuck! You feel so good” she moaned, wantonly as she looked down at him. She rolled her hips back and forth, as his lifted up to meet hers. On each thrust down, she circled her hips, causing Dean to throw his head back, his neck straining, veins popping against his skin.

“Fuck yes! Do that again, sweetheart. You know how much I love it when you do that” he told her. It was his favorite move of hers, that drove him wild every time.

She smiled with a naughty wink, doing it again. “You like that, baby?”

“Yeah, fuck yeah. I love it so much, Y/N. Love it so much” he rambled, not being able to concentrate on anything but the feel of her.

She hummed as she bit her lip. “I love it, too. I love the way your cock feels inside me, fucking me so good, so deep. No one’s ever fucked me the way you do.”

Dean let out a strangled groan as she began to bounce on top of him, tossing her head back as she let out a string of loud moans.

“And no one else ever will, right sweetheart?” he asked, gripping her hips tighter, as her ass slapped against his thighs.

“No one, Dean. No one” she shook her head as she unclasped her bra, tossing it aside before grabbing her breasts and tweaking her nipples between her fingers.

“You’re mine, aren’t you, Y/N?” he smirked up at her. She looked down at him and nodded, frantically.

“Yeah, I’m yours” she replied, looking into his eyes. “Only yours. I love you. I love you, so much.”

“I love you, too” he said, taking her hands off her breasts and curling their fingers together. Her thrusts became faster, as she continued to grind against him. She was close and so was he.

“Dean, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” she said, feeling the coil in her belly begin to tighten.

“Cum with me, Y/N. Fucking soak my cock” he growled, as he drove his hips up harder on the last few thrusts.

“Fuck! Oh fuck, Dean! I’m cumming!” she screamed, as her body shook and the coil snapped, her eyes closing tightly. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her and didn’t seem to stop at all as her juices flowed out of her and over his cock.

“Shit, Y/N! Oh fuck, yes!” he shouted into the privacy of the room, his cum shooting into her as his own climax hit.

Y/N breathed heavily as she rolled off him, landing on her back on the mattress. She moved her hands up and down her body, feeling it wet with her own sweat. Her hand moved down to her pussy, smiling as she felt his cum dripping out of her. She closed her legs, wanting to leave it there within her as she looked over at him, seeing him smirking at her.

“That was fucking incredible” he huffed, trying to catch his breath.

She nodded, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. He saw her and smiled, standing up on shaky legs and walking into the bathroom.

Dean came back with a wet washcloth and sat down next to Y/N. He parted her legs, swiping the cloth against her folds, the warm water cleaning her up. She looked up at him with a smile as her eyes continued to open and close. He cleaned himself as well and tossed the cloth in the hamper of dirty clothes, before returning. He smiled softly as he saw that she had fallen asleep, as he moved the covers over her and got in next to her, pulling her close.

Y/N looked up at Dean, smiling softly as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. She looked at him, taking in his green eyes, sharp nose and freckles scattered across it and his cheeks.

“You okay?” he asked, softly.

“Yeah” she replied, nodding. “Just thinking.”

“About?” he wondered; his voice gravelly as he lowered it.

“About… the accident” she said, feeling tears prick at her eyes. “I…”

She shook her head, burying her face in his neck, her body shaking as she began to cry. Dean held her close, whispering soft words to her.

“Sweetheart, I’m okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere” he told her, reassuring her that everything was fine. He knew she had been keeping a brave face after the hospital, and she finally let it all out.

“I don’t want to be without you” she sobbed. “What would I do without you?”

“You won’t ever find out, Y/N. I swear it” he promised, cupping her face and making her look at him. “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

She nodded as she wiped her eyes, feeling emotionally exhausted. She leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing deeply as she tried to calm herself down. As her breathing slowed, she closed her eyes, letting sleep take over her.

Dean closed his eyes only once he knew she was safe and asleep, sleep quickly finding him, too.

Light filtered through the window into the room, hitting the face of the woman sleeping, wrapped in the sheets. Y/N sighed softly, her eyelids blinking. She slowly opened them, smiling as she felt the warmth of the sun against her face. She frowned however, when the space next to her on the bed was empty, the sheets cold. As she sat up and held the sheet against her body, the smell of fresh coffee and bacon hit her nose, making her stomach growl from hunger.

Y/N dropped the sheet and picked up Dean’s t-shirt from the chair, slipping it over her body, covering her up to above her knees as it hung off her body. She walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway, the floors warm as Dean must’ve turned the thermostat up. She smiled as she saw him standing at the stove, in only his boxers as he flipped the bacon. His hair was sticking up in different directions and he looked absolutely adorable. She walked over and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso as she leaned in, pressing her lips against his spine between his shoulder blades.

“Morning” she said, kissing him in that spot.

“Morning” he smirked, as he pulled her to stand in front of him. He leaned in, kissing her softly. “So… I have some plans for us today, if you’re not busy.”

“I’m free as a bird” she said, smiling up at him.

“Great” he smirked, as he took the bacon off the pan. “I’m taking you to see my secret Saturday mission.”

She looked up at him, a little shocked. “Really?”

“Yep” he said, popping the ‘p’. “It’s about time I told you what it was.”

“Okay” she said, a little nervous to know what it was.

“Hey” he said, getting her attention as he could see she was worrying. “I promise it’s a good thing.”

“I know, I just… you don’t have to just because I was worried. I’m not anymore, seriously” she rambled, but he stopped her by pecking her lips.

“I’m not, Y/N. I really want you to see what’s going on” he confirmed, smiling at her.

“Okay” she nodded, more excited this time.

“Good” he smirked. “Now let’s eat.”

After breakfast, Dean took her in the shower as he simply couldn’t resist her, and then they both got dressed. Y/N got dressed into a long sweater dress that had a split on the side, putting her long, black coat on over the top. They rugged up with their scarves, as Dean locked up the house. They got into the car and Dean drove through the streets of Lawrence, excited to finally show Y/N what he had been waiting to. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she saw what it was. Dean turned onto the street, moving forward down the road and cutting the engine as he stopped outside the house. Y/N looked around the street, a slight frown on her face.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Well,” Dean started as he pointed up at the two-storey house, with a garden that was still yet to be made and a large porch. “That’s the Saturday secret.”

She looked up at the house, blinking a few times. “Meaning?”

“Meaning… it’s mine” he replied, with a small smile. “I’ve been renovating it for a few months. There’s still a lot of work to do, but it’s coming together.”

“That’s amazing!” she smiled, as she moved forward on the seat and hugged him. “You could’ve just told me.” She laughed as she pulled away, but frowned as she saw him looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“I couldn’t because…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath. “Because it’s mine but… I want it to be ours. When we’re ready to move, I want us to move in here. Together.”

Her eyes widened as she was completely shocked. “But… but Dean it’s yours. If something happened-” He cut her off with a small chuckle.

“It’s ours. I’m going to call the office and get you added to the contract” he told her, smirking.

She smiled, feeling tears brimming her eyes. “Dean, that’s so sweet but… we’re not married. Anything could happen-” he cut her off again by shaking his head.

“Do you think something bad is gonna happen?” he asked, really wanting to know.

She thought about it for a second. She had no real reason to think that way, it was just a precaution they needed to take, wasn’t it? “Well, no… but it would be messy to change things to add me, wouldn’t it?” she wondered, shrugging.

“It’s nothing we can’t figure out, sweetheart” he said, simply. “And yeah, we’re not married but… we can get married. Some day.”

She stared at him, feeling faint. “Really?”

“Yeah” he nodded, not missing a beat. “It’s all on the table, sweetheart. Kids were already there, right?”

She nodded slowly as she looked at him, not trusting her voice.

“Then so is marriage” he said, taking her hand in his. “So… you wanna move in with me when it’s done?”

She laughed as she nodded, excitedly. “Yes!” she launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. He laughed as he buried his face in her neck, placing a small kiss there. He pulled away, smiling at her.

“Alright, let’s go in and I can show you what we’ve done so far” he said, tugging her hand to move out of the car.

“Wait” she stopped him. “I don’t want to see it.”

He frowned, not understanding her. “Why?”

“Because,” she started, smiling at him as a tear rolled down her cheek. “You wanted this to be a surprise for me. And I want that to still happen. No one… no one’s ever done anything like this for me. Everything you’ve done for me… it completely floors me, to this day. I like it when you surprise me because you keep doing that… so I don’t want to see it. Not yet.”

He smiled at her, nodding as he understood. “Okay. You still gotta help me though. I need to know what to do on the inside and I want your inspiration. Maybe you can use your home magazines that you keep, and you think I don’t know about.”

She looked sheepish, as she nodded. “Sounds good.”

He leaned in, kissing her passionately. She pulled away, leaning her forehead against his.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you” she apologized. Seeing what he had been keeping from her made her feel so guilty, and she knew she needed to apologize again.

He shook his head, kissing her hand. “There’s no need for that, sweetheart. We’re good.”

Once they left, they drove into town. They felt like walking around, so they went to a few bookstores and record stores, picking up a couple that they liked or didn’t have yet. After, they had some lunch at one of their favorite diners before they came back home.

Y/N was so relieved that everything was out in the open, and nothing was as bad as what she had been thinking. In fact, it was all amazing. The house was incredible, and she couldn’t wait to see what Dean would do with it. She smiled as she walked into his house, thinking about their conversation in the car.

He had put marriage on the table. It probably always was considering kids were on the table, but this was the first time he’d said it out loud. In a flash of his words, she imagined herself as his wife, her heart beating wildly at that thought. She knew that he was the only person she could ever attach herself to in that way, and she was glad to know that he was thinking about it, too.

Dean smiled as she watched Y/N going about his house, making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen. He could so easily picture her in the new house, once it was done, the images of his dream returning to him. He couldn’t wait to spend his whole life with her. When he was younger, thinking on those terms was downright terrifying, but not anymore. Not when you have someone who loves you unconditionally and wants to spend every day making sure you’re cared for. That’s how she made him feel.

Later that night, they cooked dinner together. Dean’s lasanga that she loved so much that he made when she first came to his house for dinner. This time was much different, however. Now, she was helping him in the kitchen, playfully handing him things, as he stole kisses from her every now and then. One thing remained the same, however, both of them grooving to Zeppelin as they cooked.

Leaves are falling all around

It’s time I was on my way

Thanks to you I’m much obliged

For such a pleasant stay

But now it’s time for me to go

The autumn moon lights my way

For now I smell the rain

And with it pain

And it’s headed my way

Ah, sometimes I grow so tired

But I know I’ve got one thing I got to do

Ramble on

And now’s the time, the time is now

To sing my song

I’m goin’ round the world, I got to find my girl

On my way

I’ve been this way ten years to the day

Ramble on

Gotta find the queen of all my dreams

Dean stirred the sauce in the pot, reflecting on the words of one of his favorite songs. He had spent years, flirting and sleeping around with women. Years of rambling on, trying to find somewhere to settle, maybe even someone if he was lucky enough to ever find the one for him. He thought he had found a good thing until it went sour incredibly quickly.

Then Y/N came into his life. Shining like a beacon from across the street; something he immediately gravitated to. It became apparent to him very soon, that she was it. She was the one. The woman he had been looking for all his life, without really seeking her out.

She was the queen of all his dreams.

Dean walked up behind her as she chopped up some basil, kissing her head. She turned around, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him, softly. She looked up at him, her eyes gazing into his with the most loving expression. One he had seen several times now, but it suddenly felt like she was seeing him for the first time.

“What is it?” she asked, knowing he was thinking about something.

“I get it” he replied, knowing it wasn’t clear but also knowing she’d ask him again.

“Get what?” she asked, confused.

“Why you’re the one” he replied, not missing a beat. No pause. No hesitation. He leaned in, kissing her passionately.

Y/N smiled into the kiss as Dean pulled her in closer, resting her forehead against his. She knew he was the one for her too. After all the years of heartache and pain, years of wondering if she’d ever be good enough for someone, she finally found the man who would do absolutely anything to make her happy. She finally found the one she was always meant to be with.

They had learned a lot along the way, had spent months trying to fight their feelings for each other, before they finally realized they couldn’t deny it any longer.

They gazed into each other’s eyes, seeing nothing but love as they quietly acknowledged that moment as the start of something new.

Something new that they couldn’t wait to explore.

Together.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng @roonyxx @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​

[impala1967dwinchester]

Teacher!Dean Winchester: Crayons

Pairing: Teacher!Brother!Dean x Sister!Reader 

Pov: Deans 

Warnings: Cute Dean, fluff, lots of laughs, Dean making kids giggle, Dean being great with kids, Talk of Deans baby Y/n 

Summary- Dean and his sister (Y/n) doing cute little projects with his pre-school/ kindergarten class. 

Word Count: 3k 

Main Masterlist: 

Taglist: @akshi8278​ @deanswaywardgirl​

I’ve been working for the cute little mam and pop, day-care. This year will mark the second year I’ve been here.  

I grow-up with loving parents, and a baby sister. When Y/n was born I felt the natural pull to protect her, and make she was safe at all times. My parents, let me take that brotherly role in her life. My baby sister Y/n was only a year younger than me, so we pretty much did everything together.  

When we were in elementary school, I’d walk Y/n to her kindergarten class, and then I’d walk to my first-grade classroom. I honestly can’t believe I still remember that memory.  

I walked up the hall and to my classroom door. I had only had these kiddos for about three weeks now, but there were making great progress. And since today was Friday I thought it be cool if I dressed up a little and we had an arts and crafts day.  

I looked down at my watch, the digital numbers popping up it read “8:30″. ‘Great I had enough time to pull out all the supplies, and have a few more cups of coffee to keep up with the little munchkins.’  

I set my half empty coffee cup on my desk in the front of the classroom, and open the shades letting the morning sun fall into the class room. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the abundance of playlists on my Spotify account.  

This was the only time, when the kids weren’t in my room was, I allowed to listen to my type of music. “Heck yeah, let’s rock baby.” I said as I clicked the most recent playlist.  

I set my phone down on my desk and walked around the room. I had a fairly small class this year. I had 2 baby girls that were only about ten months old, but the rest of my class was 2 years, which had the attention span of a Nat, and had the most energy I had ever seen.  

Ya, see I love working with this age group. The babies which have to come to day care are the most adorable little girls I had ever seen. Little toes and babbles coming from them as I would change them into their afternoon outfit, or we sit down and eat.  

My other kiddos were just having equally adorable. They’d raise their hands for everything, they also asked the oddest of question, but I think what I love most about being with these kiddos every day is that they make me so much happier.

I generally wake up in an over-all happy mood, but the minute my kiddos step into my room. I can feel the joy raise through me, starting at my toes and ending at head. And just like any day, I’m always the first to make it to the daycare. The second person to make their way into the building was my co-teacher. My co-teacher just so happens to be Y/n. She had a thing for being late, but I didn’t mind.  

Y/n walked into the classroom, setting her belongings on the rounded desk in the back of the classroom. When Y/n had told me, she had interned to be a part of the daycare I couldn’t help but feel so excited.  

Y/n and I’s relationship was prefect damn near unbreakable. Something about having her by my side thirty years later had a great feeling. “Hey big bro!” She said as she looked up after setting her things down on her desk.  

“Hey sis, you get enough sleep last night?” I asked knowing she probably didn’t, not with the way those two-year-old ran her ragged yesterday. Y/n and I had a system to how we took care of our class. I’d take Monday with the two-year-old, and then Tuesday I spent with the baby girls, Wednesday I was with the big kids again and then Thursday I was with the babies yet again Friday I’d take the big kids.  

Then the cycle would change and Y/n would start with having the big kids Monday. I went over to the paper section, pulling out craft paper, crayons and markers for the kids to play with. “Today if you can’t tell by my amazing outfit, it’s craft day.” I said walking past Y/n desk in the back, as I kicked out the raveling carpet.  

I set the paper down at my desk. The day care didn’t open until nine fifteen. “Sis, what may it be?” I said fancying my best London accent, doing things like this made me even happier, it got me in a mood to see my kiddos in the morning.  

“Tee time may be nine ten brother.” Y/n said trying her fancy on the old London accent. I got up, quickly turning my playlist off and standing neither my door, other teachers were starting to the same. I waited, and the first child I saw was one of baby girls. Her name was Amber. Her mother said hello handed me her Amber’s bags and then said a short and quick bye-bye to her daughter. “Y/n, Come get amber and bring her to the back room.” I said Y/n came running taking Amber to the back room.

The back room was meant for any kiddos under the age of one year old. It was a quiet space for them, a space dedicated to just them. When I handed Amber off, I heard coo at the Y/n, “Awe, good morning sweetheart.” I heard Y/n say has she walked father away from me and closer to the back room.  

The next kiddo was the other sweet baby girl. “Hey, Dean. I like the outfit today.” Said Poppies mother, and she handed me a sleeping poppy, and of course her bag for today. “And look you two match, how adorable.” Poppies mother said before kissing her baby's temple and then walking out the front door. The sun was starting to peak further above the horizon.  

I figured since Y/n wasn’t back yet that she was probably putting amber things in the respectful place. I set Poppy down slowly and softly. “Well, the two baby girls are here, you need anything with these two and I’m right outside okay, sis.” I said as I saw Y/n come back from the little kitchenette we had in the back room.  

AS Y/n got closer to me, she too noticed the matching outfits that me and Poppy were wearing. “You and poppy match today!” She spoke. Both poppy and I were wearing striped shirts, and dark blue overalls. The only different was that Poppy had a cute little bow in her short hair. “Okay, I’ve got to go out into the classroom and get ready for the other kiddos.” I said to Y/n before walking out of the back room.  

When I made it to the door, Justin, Rachel, Cassie, and Paula were standing outside with their parents. ‘Good morning!” As each kid kissed their mothers' cheeks and ran over to me.  

after all the parents had left, saying their goodbyes. We all went into the classroom. Like I said before my classroom room size was fairly small. Which I of course didn’t mind.  

The kids put all their belongings on the little racks, and ran over. In the morning time we’d sit around in a circle and say one good thing that happened yesterday. I never picked on the kids, I just let the first kid that wanted to go, start us off.  

Rachel was the first to start us off. “Yesterday, my mommy and I had ice cream for dessert.” She said her high and squeaky voice, making me smile. “Oh, that sounds awesome! Do you remember what flavor?” I asked sitting down like the kids were. “it was CHOCOLATE!” Rachel screamed the last part. “Oh, that does sounds yummy.” I spoke.  

The next kiddo to go was Paula, she started off by saying “When i got home yesterday, I help my daddy make dinner. And we had mac and cheese.” She said rubbing her tummy as she looked back at that not do long ago memory.  

Justin interrupted me before I could say anything “Mr. Dean? Where’s miss Y/n?” He spoke. playing with his shoe strings. “That a good question, but remember we have to raise out hand if we are going to ask a question.” I spoke. “I’m sorry.” Justin said.  

“To answer Justin question, Miss Y/n is in the back room’ I said pointing towards the door in the back. ‘She’s taking care of the babies today, like I did yesterday.” I spoke.  

“Really?” The four kids said in unison. I laughed a little. “Yes, Now Justin would you like to share your good thing?” I asked. “Of course, I want to share Mr. Dean. Yesterday, I helped my sissy with her make-up.” He said putting both his hands on his hips.  

I again laughed, another reason why I love working with kids. They are always no matter what so eccentric. “Okay Cassie, what was one good thing that happened yesterday?” I asked. Cassie and I had a rocky start in the begging of class. She was an overly shy girl, and talked softly. But she grew comfortable with me. “Mr. Dean?” She asked getting up from where she had been sitting. “Can I whisper it to you?” She asked.  

I just shook my head; she came closer and cupped her hands around my ear. “Yesterday, I told my mommy and daddy I couldn’t wait to come back to class.” She said in a very quiet whisper.

Awe I thought to myself, and said out loud. “I’m glad your excited to come to see me.” wrapping one of my arms around Cassie already small body and hugged her. “Okay kiddos, since today is the last day of the week. We’re are going to arts and crafts.”  I spoke.  

“Yay!” Justin said getting up and walking over to the little table. I looked over at Cassie, and smiled. she gave me a short smile and walked over to where Justin was. So, I got up and made sure that Rachel and Paula were walking with me. Once they were all sitting down at the table.

I grabbed the different colored papers, and the crayons and markers. Placing everything in the middle so they would be able to share. "Now kiddos, if you want anything else. I will be at my desks.” I spoke.

I sat down at my desk, trying to figure out anything else that I could do with the kiddos since today was Friday. ‘We could sit down and watch a movie; I could wait for them to do finished with their crafts, and then do another craft all together.’ I thought to myself.  

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard the back-room door open, “Um, Mr. Dean. I need your help!” Y/n said. The kids rose their heads, but went back to coloring when they noticed it was just Y/n. “Listen kiddos, I have to go help miss Y/n, so just continue doing your drawing.” I spoke. I heard a “Okay, Mr. Dean.”  

I walked to the back-room, Y/n walked back through the door, not shutting it. “What’s up Y/n? ” I asked. “I just needed your help, getting them into their afternoon clothes. They both had accidents.” Y/n said walking over to grab Amber and Poppy’s bag.  

“Alright then, let's get started.” I said taking Amber’s bag. When I came over to where Y/n and had laid them out on the soft blanket on the floor, Amber had her small hand wrapped around her small ankle chewing softing on her big toes. “Awe sweetie, not that icky.” I said taking her foot from her mouth. Amber’s mother had packed two different outfits, one being a short sleeve shirt that said “Daddy's girl!” in purple glitter with a black skirt. Her second outfit was a long sleeve that had a momma and baby elephant on it, with blue leggings.  

I held up either one of the shirts, I know she’s only ten, but I bet her Amber’s mom is letting her choose some sort of her outfits. I held the shirts up and Amber did the thing that most kids her age do which is grabby hands. Amber wanted to wear the elephants, which meant she was pants.  

So, I lightly lifted Amber's head to let me put her head in through the hole at the top of the shirt, then I had to grab her arms. Amber had this thing when you changed her cloths. All the sudden she’d become a wiggle worm. Finally, after a few minutes of trying to grab her arms, she let me. I gently put her hands and arms through the holes. Afterwards I put her leggings on and I sat her up in my lap.  

“The kiddos out there asked where you were today?” I said catching Y/n attention. “Did they? Awe that’s cute” She said had she lifted Poppy into her lap. “I’ve got them drawing out there, since it’s Friday.” I said “I figured you go easy on since today is Friday. Yesterday I tried to teach them number one through twenty, but it didn’t work out as I planned.” Y/n said laughing a little when poppy babbled into her lap.  

“I was thinking that we could let them watch a Disney movie and feed these girls, maybe go for nap time too.” I said lightly bouncing Amber in my lap, and she chewed on her binky. I saw Y/n face contort like it always did when she was thinking.  

“I don’t see why not; what movie were you thinking?” Y/n asked. Without missing a beat “Frozen” I said, a little giggle erupted from my younger sister. “Okay, I guess we got a plan then.” She said putting Poppy on her hip, and walking towards the door, so I followed her. “Let’s go Amber!” I said putting her on my hip and walking out of the room.  

When I walked out the kiddos were still coloring and drawing. “Alrighty kiddos let’s be done with coloring. Because we are going to watch a movie.” I said All heads turned and looked at me, in the moment you could hear a mouse scurrying across the floor for how quiet it was.  

“What movie are we watching?” Rachel said after raising her hand. “Rachel we are watching Frozen!” I said as I put Amber in the high chair. All that could be heard for a few seconds was screams of happiness.  

“Alrighty calm down, kids. I want you all to go sit on the carpet in the front of the classroom.” Y/n said as she buckled Poppy in her high chair. “I’ll get the movie started, and you get the babies food.” Y/n said. “Okay.”  

I walked in to the back room and grabbed their food. Y/n had finished set-up the movie and it had already started playing the starting credits. She walked back over, and grabbed a fandom one from my hand, and we started to feed the babies.  

The kiddos watch the movie in silence, at one point close to when Anna meets Kristoff. The babies were done eating so we took them out of the high chairs and set them down in our laps as we sat behind the kids. When Cassie noticed that we were now on the floor, she turned around, and crawled over to me.

Laying down and resting her head on my thigh. “Are you tired Cassie?” I asked, all I got in response was a hum. I smiled, and brushed her arm. I felt the change in her breathing. I looked over at Y/n. “Cassie is out and so is Amber. Should we call it?” I asked her. She looked down at Poppy. “Poppy is asleep, and I think so is Justin.” She said looking at the kids.  

Y/n got up with poppy in her arms. She came over and grabbed a sleep Amber in my arms. And brought them into the backroom. I gently picked up Cassie, she didn’t weight much seeing as she was asleep. I moved her over to the sleep mat, and grabbed her a blanket, before walking over and noticing that the once awake Rachel and Paula were asleep, which made this whole process just so much more easier, Y/n walked out of the back-room and noticed the same thing as me.  

Whispering Y/n said “Looks like they did the job for us.” Giggling she picked up Rachel, and brought her over next to Cassie. I picked up Justin, now he weighed more than Cassie, causing me to grunt a little when I picked him up. I heard Y/n giggle a little at me. “Stop laughing at me, he’s heavy then I thought.” I said setting him down. Y/n grabbed Paula and did the same thing with her.  

“At least they are all asleep.’ She spoke. ‘I could use a lap.” She said leaning her head against my shoulder. I leaned my head against the top of hers. “How about we just take a little nap since it’s the last day before the weekend.” I spoke. She shook her head.  

We waked over to the shades that I had pulled letting the morning sun in, and Y/n pulled them back, and then she slides down to the floor, and sat down next to her and she rested the head of my shoulder, “I’m glad I work with you De.” She said a yawn passing her lips.  

“I’m glad you’re here to help, Y/n.” I said patting her knee. I kiss her forehead, something I had done since she was a baby girl. I kissed her forehead every night when it was time to go to bed. “I love you, big brother.” She said before she hugged me tightly. “I love you too baby sis.” Hugging her back.  

Completed: 03/16/2021 

[sokkas-honour]

#17 for the spotify wrapped with zuko! <3

prom queen - zuko x reader

pairing: zuko x fem!reader

wc: 1k (it’s a short one, i didn’t feel like exploring this song too much as i associate it with a certain sort of my life. i also didn’t put too much effort into tbh, again for the same reason)

warning: if you’re sensitive to body image talk, possible diet talk, possible starvation mention, please don’t go any further. i tried to keep it as light as possible but i did project onto it a bit.

notes: i cherry picked lyrics that work best for this, and the least triggering ones. its kinda of a part two to detention as requested by @aangsupremacy (hopefully this works for you), just not a direct one.

wish i was like you, blue-eyed blondie, perfect body,

she was everything you could never be. with beautiful long black hair and an elegance that you only wish you could have. but most of all, she had the firelord’s attention, she had his heart. she had his attention ever since they were children and it was foolish of you to ever imagine things going differently.

it was foolish of you to think he’d even fall for you, the waterbender who’d been tasked to be his bodyguard ever since you two were children. it was foolish of you to think that, even though you two had been through so much together, you still would never even cross his mind as anything more than a simple friend.

all the nights you two spent on that boat, giving him a space to talk when he needed it. you had always been there for him, you were with him every step of the way from the agni kai to ba sing se, to joining the avatar and defeating ozai. you two had grown close during that time and you genuinely thought that something was happening between the two of you, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. you had forgotten that the affection that zuko felt towards mai transcended any relationship that you had built up with him. spirits did you wish you were her.

maybe I should try harder, you should lower your beauty standards,

you remembered the comments you used to get while on the boat, your body constantly being picked apart by middle aged men who didn’t have any better to do then to bodyshame a teenager. being away from the crew, a weight had been lifters off your shoulders when you found a group of friends that never said anything about your appearance nor found anything wrong with it.

you should’ve realised that when you agreed to join zuko as his advisor that the picking apart would get worse. his cabinet was still very closed minded and judgemental, none of them liked the idea of a waterbender from a watertribe to be the one advising the leader of the firenation, none of them seemed to remember that your whole childhood was spent in between these walls.

most of the time, words were never said directly to you but usually were whispers strategically placed to make sure you heard what they all thought about you. it hurt a lot but you were able to push down all of your emotions until one day, when someone who used to be a part of zuko’s crew, came to help him around the place. the crew had caught on that despite how much he aggravated you, you had a thing for zuko, so he of course made fun of you for it in front of the firelord’s officers who knew of his current relationship status. and that’s when things started to go down hill.

“i’m going to find the firelord and see what he thinks about it.” it all started when you were having a meeting with some of his esteemed generals and admirals, he was absent so you took his place which meant that some people thought it was fun to try and take advantage of your lack of authority. the only way to settle the current argument was to grab the firelord himself and drag zuko into the mess that only he could clean.

“wouldn’t want to do that, his girlfriend might think you’d want to steal him.” a misplaced teasing rang from general tao, one who seemed to always be against you.

“please, mai would take one look at her and not even think that she’d pose a threat. i mean have you seen her body?” another voice inserted himself into the conversation and you started to feel like you’d wish that you could just evaporate into thin air.

“not to mention that marrying someone from the watertribe would be absolutely dishonourable.” general sho added, a smirk on his face as he knew that all of their comments were affecting you. sho was definitely someone who liked to pretend that he didn’t miss ozai, just like half of the people in the room that laughed at the jokes.

“meeting adjourned.” you exclaimed, not wanting to even deal with them any longer and just go to your room and cry about what had happened. you were the first to stand up and go to the leave the room but right as you were about to leave, you heard one more comment.

“go cry about it, maybe you can waterbend it or, even better, loose a little.” it was the last straw and you felt your eyes prick with tears but you couldn’t show total weakness so you held your composure and scurried to your room, making sure to avoid absolutely anyone.

im no quick-curl barbie, i was never cut out for prom queen,

when you closed the door to your chamber, you threw yourself on your bed and just cried, letting all the words that everyone had ever said get to you. you knew that you weren’t ever going to make a good ruler, which is probably for the best that mai is a good contender for the position seeing as she and zuko are madly in love.

but spirits did you wish you were. you weren’t the regal type, you weren’t elegant, you weren’t raised as someone important, you were raised as a bodyguard who’s entire worth was based on wether or not you could protect the future firelord. not matter how much you tried to get over him, you couldn’t. your entire self worth had been based around him since a young age so of course it continued into your early adult years. your whole life had been intertwined with zuko and your destinies, at least that’s what you thought, were always going to be shared in a way.

maybe that’s why you tried your hardest to always be nice to him, be there for him, be a friend for him even when he didn’t want one. sometimes you wondered if you actually did love him or if it was just that if he did love you, you would actually feel like you had a place. you’d always conclude that it was the first, just seeing him happy and smile made your heart race as a fast as a rollercoaster. no one else had ever done that to you.

you remembered the one time you had ever lashed out at zuko. you were grieving and he was being selfish. you had always given him the space to talk about his feelings so you expected the same, only, it took you ignoring him for a couple of days for him to finally understand that friendship was a two way street, even when he was banished.

after that, zuko always listened to you when you needed it and spirits did you wish he was there now. you don’t exactly know what you’d tell him but in right now, you craved him just rubbing your back soothingly and letting you air out what was on your mind. those moments weren’t too common but they were precious.

you were ready to just recompose yourself in your room alone but you jumped a bit when you heard someone knock at the door.

“shit.” you mumbled, quickly trying to find somewhere to look at your reflection to wipe the tears and boy was that going to be a problem. your eyes were red, cheeks were puffy and heavily tear stained, and your hair was disheveled from gripping it as you sobbed.

there was nothing you could do but pray that whoever was behind that door was just a guard coming by to tell you something, they never commented on your current appearance as they were used to seeing the firelord in unpleasant circumstances.

you took a deep breath in and went to open the door. you felt your heart stop when you saw your best friend with a huge smile on his face.

“hey y/n, i-" zuko started off his greeting with the cheeriest voice you’d ever heard from him but the tone quickly switched once he registered that you had been crying. “are you okay?”

“yeah zuko, i’m fine.” you lied, fully aware that he could see that you weren’t and the lie was useless, but you couldn’t talk about what was going on with zuko.

“y/n i know you’re lying, you’re my best friend. and you look like you’ve just been crying.” zuko placed his hand on your cheek and rubbed his thumb gently from side to side. you sighed and leaned into it, savouring the affectionate moment.

“it’s fine, it’s nothing important.” you mumbled after a couple of seconds were spent in silence, not knowing if this was the time to tell him about the treatment that you’d received from his generals and the love that you had for him.

“you know you can tell me anything, right y/n? i learned that a while ago thanks to you. i come to you for help and advice, and vice versa.” he insisted, removing his hand, much to your dismay. his eyes filled with concern as he wasn’t going to just dismiss your feelings like the last time he’d found you crying.

“i don’t want to talk about it right now, maybe at another time.” you compromised, figuring that in a day or so you could finally come forward about it without breaking down.

“deal.” he smiled, glad that you had accepted his help.

“but you had news to tell me, so don’t let the way i look keep you from telling me.” you returned his smile, changing your tone to one of intrigue at the wonder of what got your friend so excited.

“mai said yes to the trip!” he announced giddily.

“the trip to?” you asked confused, if he had discussed this trip with you, you had completely forgotten.

“the trip where i plan to propose to her! i’m pretty sure i told you about this the other week.” he clarified, slightly confused as to why you didn’t remember as in his memory, he had talked it out with you a couple of weeks prior.

“oh yeah, that trip.” you felt your heart drop, you completely forgot about that, it was the last hope of zuko ever loving you as more than a friend, it was already small to begin with but now it was nonexistent. she would say yes and you’d have to live with the knowledge that you never said anything to him, you’d have to live with and help the new firelady, you’d have to see them rule the nation as you’d just think about your unrequited love.

“we leave the day after tomorrow, do you think she’ll say yes?” the firelord was nervous about a girl, your heart broke a bit knowing that you never had that affect on him but it was to her fault for keeping your feelings to yourself.

“of course she will zuko. the two of you are perfect for each other. you’re handsome, a great friend, you’re always there for your friends, you always want what’s best for everyone, and youre a great ruler. and mai, mai’s just drop dead gorgeous.” you rambled, not realizing that you might have raised his suspicions at your listing of his qualities but all it did was make him more confident, he must’ve only seen your small confession as a planotic one.

“thank you y/n. and when i get back, i’ll find someone for you so we can have double dates!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“yeah zuko, that’d be great.” if only he knew that the only person for you was him. you only gave him a half smile before he turned around to do whatever, leaving you alone in your room with something more to cry about.

if im pretty, will you like me? they say "beauty makes boys happy"

a little while after he left, you went out of your room to go clear your mind next to one of the turtle duck ponds. as you sat down to watch the adorable animals, you saw mai pass down the hallway that opened to the courtyard. she spotted you and waved, not bothering to stop as she probably had somewhere to be. you waved back but it made you realise something.

as you looked at your reflection, you thought of how beautiful mai was and how average you were. you’d never compare to her beauty, meaning zuko would never look at you and think ‘woah’. maybe no one would ever see you as the most gorgeous person in the four nations, all you’d be was someone who let the love of their life live with his life without knowing about your feelings.

maybe it was time to move out of the firepalace, the guards didn’t seem to like you and the comments started to get too much to hide the way it hurt you. you wouldn’t have to watch zuko and mai act all lovey dovey. youd finally move on from your life where your whole worth was based around the banished prince turned firelord. maybe you’d find love with someone who saw you as their whole world just like zuko did with mai.

maybe your life would be better.

atla taglist: @draqondance @biqherosix @missmorosis @firelady-jay

zuko taglist: @duh-dobrik

[magics-protector]

Mountain Sound

Soulmate AU: Soulmates have one song that connects them - when one soulmate listens to it, they both can see each other.

The Song: Mountain Sound - Of Monsters and Men

(which I think fits Merlin absolutely perfectly)

Spotify, Apple Music, Youtube

A small kind of crack fic from my Everlast series - which will start up sometime this week because it’s Reading Week and I finally have time to write it!

With a soft sigh leaving her lips, Y/N fell into her chair, dropping the books she carried down onto the table. A long start to an already long day, if you asked her. 

First, she had to help Jack get his hand out of a cookie jar (because apparently her adopted little brother couldn’t just ‘magic’ his way out of it). Then, her Uncle asked her to “help” with work on Baby’s engine - and by “help” she meant that he made her stand there while she held all his tools and wasn’t allowed to touch the engine itself. 

Not that she could complain. It was nice having everyone home for once - not that it was going to last long. Hence the reason for all the books. A new day would bring new cases and as always, Y/N was responsible for research - being her father’s daughter had it’s disadvantages in that way. 

Speaking of her dad, he sat across from her, eyes trained on the laptop in front of him as he searched and typed, falling into the same pattern quite easily. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Y/N opened the first book on her pile and began to research - so it seemed Dragons were the big enemy of the day. 

As she read, Y/N started to notice writing she hadn’t seen in over a year. Language she hadn’t seen since she disappeared. It was the old language of the Druid People. Something she had learned to read over the years. 

As she read on, Y/N noticed the old phrasing of the common Soulmate connection: “Songs and stories of different melodies and tunes. That is what shall lead thy heart to its destiny”. 

“Huh, well that kind of sucks.” She said, meaning to think it but it just came out. 

Sam pulled his head out of his computer and looked up. “What sucks?” 

Y/N looked up from the book, motioning to the page. “The language in this book. It talks about the soulmate connection. You’d expect it to rhyme, but it doesn’t.” 

A laugh like breath came from Sam as he shook his head. “Not all old texts have to rhyme, you know?” 

Y/N scoffed with a smile. “I know that. I just think it would have been funnier and more romantic if it did.” 

Then Y/N’s smile faded. “Hey, Dad?”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he looked down at his laptop again. 

“What was your song? You know, your song with Mom?”

Y/N could see Sam tense at the question. Y/N had known for so long that her parents were in fact soulmates, but Sam never talked about her. The memory of Will was almost to painful for him to remember. Not the relationship itself, but what happened to her. 

He shifted in his seat, looking down as he nodded before he stood up, moving around the table to sit next to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It was Rebel Rebel. That was our song.” 

Y/N turned her head, her face shocked. “Your song with Mom was Rebel Rebel? Dad, I did not take you as a David Bowie fan.” 

Sam chuckled, moving closer to the edge of the chair and placed Y/N’s head on his shoulder. “He grew on me, only because of your mother. She loved to listen to his stuff. Rebel Rebel may have been our song but I can still remember her screaming the words to Space Oddity like there was no tomorrow.” He moved his head to look down at her, placing a small kiss on her head. “You remind me of her. Everyday I can see her in everything that you do and I know how proud she’d been if she could see you.” 

Y/N smiled sadly. “Have you ever tried to see her again? Maybe if you listened to the song again you’d see her..” 

“It doesn’t work like that, Bug.” Sam chuckled sadly. “Your mother has been gone for a while. I don’t think it’s possible to see her again until I get to her myself.” 

Y/N could sense that the conversation was getting to him, so she stopped. She would have much gathered leaned in and enjoyed the moment, which is what she did. 

“Woah, didn’t realize we were interrupting a moment.” 

Sam and Y/N looked over to the archway of the library where Dean walked in, followed by Cas and Jack. 

“Where the hell have you been, Dean?” Sam shook his head. “I called you like an hour ago to help with research.” 

Dean scoffed, taking Sam’s old seat. “Yeah, well, I had to pick these two up from the Gas Station.” He pointed at Cas and Jack with his thumb. “And what’s this about research? You two obviously aren’t doing any - OW!” 

Cas whacked Dean across the back of his head. “Don’t be rude, Dean.” 

Dean didn’t argue, he couldn’t argue with Cas, so he just grumbled. 

Y/N giggled as she watched her Uncles interact - it was honestly so surprising how long it took for the both of them - well mainly Dean - to come to terms with their connection. 

“Hey, Dee?” 

Dean looked at Y/N with a hum. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your song?” 

Dean sat up, leaning back in his chair while Cas took a seat next to him. Cas had a smile on his face while Dean gave off a rare cross between a smirk and a smile. “Well, that’s easy. It’s --”

“You Shook Me All Night Long.” Both Dean and Cas said at the same time, which made the both of them smile at each other. 

Y/N nodded her head, almost as if in agreement. “How did I know?” She giggled. 

Jack smiled too - he hadn’t found his song yet, but he was waiting, knowing he’d find it one day. He looked over at his ‘sister’ with a curious face. “Why do you ask, Y/N? You’ve never been interested in Soulmate songs before.” 

Y/N felt all eyes on her. She thought for a moment, before she answered. “Well.... I kind of want to find my song.....” 

Dean looked at his niece with that bothersome uncle look. “I thought you had no interest in finding them.” 

Y/n looked down at her hands, rubbing them together. “But I did. At least, I’m 99% sure I found him.” 

Everyone’s faces erupting with smiles and cheers - Sam gripped her tight in a side hug. “That’s amazing, Y/N!” 

“What’s the kid’s name?” 

“Where’s he from?” 

“What’s your song?” 

Y/N put her hands up to stop them.”Woah! Woah! I never said I found my song. I just said I think I found him.” 

Cue the confusion. “But,” Jack tilted his head. “if you haven’t found your song, then how do you know?” 

Y/N took a breath before she stood up, walking towards a pillar of the archway and leaned against it. “I just feel it.” She laughed with a smile. “When I was with him, it was like.. nothing else mattered....” She shook her head. “What we went through was a lot for two people to handle, but with Merls, it was like.... it was like we could take on the whole world and no matter what the outcome was, as long as I had him, I won.” She seemed so lost in the memory, so lost that when she came back she went pink with embarrassment and she held her arms. “If that makes any sense....” 

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other with knowing looks. “Well then,” Dean said. “Looks like we have a song to find. After all,” Y/N looked at her uncle in confusion. “We don’t want to leave him waiting.” 

*******************************************************************************

“Ugh, this is hopeless!” 

Hours and hours of music and nothing. They tried it all - Bon Jovi, Hozier, My Chemical Romance, Lana Del Rey and countless other bands and still nothing. 

The team sat there for hours, playing music from Dean’s collection, random bands they found on YouTube, but nothing was working. 

Y/N slumped in her chair, defeated. She ran her hands over her face before she stopped and sat up quickly. “Wait!” She looked at her dad. “Dad, you said you weren’t very fond of Bowie but Rebel Rebel was your song with Mom. How did you find it?” 

Sam sat for a moment, his hand over his mouth as he thought, before his eyes went wide. “There was something that connected it to me. I would see the record or hear it faintly on the radio and that’s basically how I found it.” He leaned forward to pull his laptop towards him. “Is there any song that just stands out to you, Y/N? One that you can think of without hesitating? Like you’d see the album and feel a pull?” 

Y/N thought for a moment when her eyes went wide. She raised her head slightly and mumbled under her breath. 

“What?” 

She looked up at her family. “Mountain Sound. It’s a song by Of Monsters and Men. I’ve never really thought about it til now, but there’s something about it.” 

Sam quickly typed it into his search engine and pulled it up, handing it and the headphones over to Y/N. 

With shaky hands, Y/N put the headphones on and started the song and it was like the world had stopped. Swirls of gold filled the void in the archway capturing her gaze and she smiled. Those golden swirls soon started to form the shape of a man sitting with a book on his lap. That man, Y/N knew him better than anyone did. Tears pooled in her eyes as her smile grew wider. “I knew it.” 

Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack all smiled. They did it. 

As the swirls finished forming the boy, Y/N moved to the floor, carrying the laptop down with her as she moved closer to his form. The boy seemed to enticed by his book until he looked up and over her way. He looked around hearing the music himself and then he looked at Y/N and a smile broke out on his face, tears in his eyes. 

“Y/N?” His voice was eery, but that was normal for this kind of thing. 

Forgetting she was in the presence of her family, Y/N laughed, tears streaming down her face. “Hey, Merlin.” 

The young Warlock smiled, lunging forward to touch her, and through the power of their song, he hugged her for the first time in over a year. “I never thought I’d see you again, My Love....” He lamented. 

Y/N held him close. “Takes a lot more than a glassy portal to keep me away from you, you Cabbage head.”

Merlin pulled back, but made sure to keep a hand on her shoulders. “Where are you? We looked everywhere for you. I thought Arthur was going to take off my head if you weren’t found.” 

Y/N looked up at her soulmate and smiled. “How badly did you irritate him this time?”

With a look of pride, Merlin answered. “I going to be honest, I nearly had the Knights turn on him.” 

“Pft, hahaha! Merlin! You can’t just lead a coup against Arthur! That’s my job!”

Merlin laughed, he laughed so hard that he leaned forward and turned, resting his head on Y/N’s legs. “Honestly, to be fair, it wasn't his fault. All those Lords had been quite vocal about their disapproval over your rescue mission. I thought Gwaine was gonna tear off someone’s ear.” 

Y/N giggled, playing with Merlin’s blackish brown locks which had grown out since the last time she saw him while her other hand ran over his cheek, where a small stubble had grown as well. “I wouldn’t put it past him to do that.” 

“No. But I think the others would have let him if Arthur hadn’t been in the room.” 

Y/N looked down into his eyes and smiled. “It’s just nice to know I’ll have a huge welcoming when I get back.” 

Meanwhile, as Y/N and Merlin continued to ramble and talk away as the song repeated and repeated over and over again, Sam and the rest of Team Free Will decided to leave Y/N alone with her soulmate and as they left through the back door, Sam watched as Y/N smiled the brightest smile he’s ever seen. Silently, he vowed that he’d make sure Y/N got back to wherever she had disappeared to. 

[wesawbears]

My @geraskierholidayexchange gift for @keepcalmandexpectopatronum934. I hope you enjoy! This ended up being inspired by the movie Elf. Happy holidays!

--

In and out Jaskier, he told himself as he adjusted his new work uniform. This was just a temporary gig until he got back on his feet. Besides, it was performance experience, in a way. Perhaps not the kind he’d been expecting, but he’d learned long ago to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Or a gift paycheck, as it were.

With a good luck jingle of his hat and a final tug on his elf ears to ensure they stayed in place, he headed inside to a Christmas wonderland.

More accurately, it was a mall toy store, but hey. Magic! Christmas spirit! Jaskier had never been fussy.

He looked around, glancing at the children milling about, exasperated parents trying to keep them from knocking everything off the shelves. Jaskier supposed he should be grateful, considering cleaning up their messes was now part of his job. Not seeing a manager around, he found the first employee he could see.

The man was tall, with snow white hair tucked up underneath an elf hat similar to Jaskier’s. He was hanging ornaments on a tree in the center of the store, likely ones that some of the running children had knocked over in their haste. He leaned down to pick up a stray ornament the man had missed, hoping to extend it as a token of goodwill toward his fellow employee. 

“I love the way you hang those ornaments. Truly an, uh, inspiring show of elfdom.”

The other man stared back at him like he was a space alien, which, okay, fair, that wasn’t one of Jaskier’s better introductions, but what was he supposed to say? 

“I’m working on this alone. Go away before Emhyr finds you and fires you.”

“Sorry. Just a bit turned around. I’m Jaskier.” He stuckout his hand, only to realize that his coworker had his hands full. 

“Geralt,” the other man said, not glancing away from the tree. 

“Nice to meet you! Do you happen to know where the manager might be then?”

As if on cue, another voice sounded behind him. “Geralt, those ornaments are supposed to be spaced apart at 3.8 in.”

“I can’t measure that in my head-”

“Figure it out.” the unfamiliar man turned to Jaskier. “You’re new. Follow me.”

Jaskier gave a last sympathetic glance back to Geralt, before following the manager to the back room.

Well, at least if he was working here for the season, he would have some eye candy while he did it.

--

It didn’t take long for Jaskier to learn Emhyr hated his fucking guts, and that he would undoubtedly be out of a job come January, but he didn’t mind too much. Being a hated employee ensured that he worked closing shift, which meant he got to work with Geralt. They’d fallen into somewhat of a routine over the last few weeks, cleaning while Jaskier changed the Christmas music to his carefully curated Spotify playlists, which Geralt steadfastly ignored. He’d learned that Geralt worked outdoors, so his job at the local nature preserve didn’t need him during the winter. He also knew that the only reason Emhyr hadn’t fired Geralt for his grumpy nature was that Geralt was Emhyr’s daughter Ciri’s godfather, in an arrangement far too complex for Jaskier to comprehend. In turn, he told Geralt about his performance aspirations, along with every other thought that came to his mind. Geralt didn’t say much, but he listened and made dry comments every so often and Jaskier was in love with him.

Jaskier had always fallen easily, it’s true, but that didn’t take away the flutter in his heart each time one of Geralt’s small smiles was sent his way, a wry laugh into a bottle of water as they waited for the time to switch to ten so they could lock up.

On one such night, the week before Christmas, Jaskier perched himself on the counter, watching Geralt finish cleaning the last of the displays. “Thank you, dearest. You know you’re so much better at organizing those than I am, and I’m pretty sure I’m one fuck up away from getting fired.”

Geralt snorted. “Emhyr won’t fire you. He still needs a warm body in the store and no one else will take night shift.”

“Except you. What is the deal with him anyway? He doesn’t seem the...toy store type. Seems more like a...retail baron to me.”

“He’s not. He’s a regional finance manager. They just couldn’t find anyone else to run the store this year. That’s why he’s being pissier than usual.”

“That...makes more sense. But he gets to see your smiling face, so, you know, a jolly time.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Yeah. He’s thrilled to see me. I’m sure my work ethic is what’s keeping him from spiking my eggnog at Christmas this year.”

“Has he...is that a legitimate worry?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. Probably not.”

“That family dynamic will never make sense to me.”

Geralt sighed and leaned against the counter. “We make it work. For Ciri.”

“Is she excited for Christmas?”

“She is. Between here and spending time with her, I can’t get away from it.”

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t like Christmas?”

Geralt shrugged. “It just...wasn’t a big deal for me growing up.”

“That’s so sad!” Jaskier loved Christmas. Though he didn’t really spend time with his family anymore, he had fond memories of the annual Christmas party- the music, the desserts, the presents. Just the general feeling that all was right with the world.

“It’s fine. It’s just another day.”

“How are you making me even sadder?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

“Of course,” Jaskier answered with a small flourish. “Geralt! I have an idea!”

“Careful. Wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

Jaskier huffed. “I’ll show you the magic of Christmas! I”ll be like...your Christmas elf! Your spirit advisor.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You are so mean to me. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Geralt shot him an incredulous look, but acquiesced. “What would...that...entail?”

“First rule of Christmas from your official spirit advisor: Christmas is about surprises.”

“I hate surprises.”

“That’s the spirit!”

--

They decided to hold their Christmas adventure two days later, since Emhyr had told them their services weren’t needed due to a school group volunteering to work as “Santa’s Elves” that day. They met up at the mall at 3, when they usually started work. Jaskier was decked (the halls) out in a very shiny Christmas sweater, while Geralt was in his finest funeral blacks. He had dressed warmly though, as requested, so Jaskier wasn’t going to complain too much.

“Ready, star pupil?”

“No. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You do not.”

“Hmm.”

They headed out into the cold. The mall was just a short walk away from the rest of town, and Jaskier figured they could look at the lights on the way there. “My mom and sisters and I would always go walk around and try to pick our favorite lights every year. I thought we could try that. As an easy intro activity.”

Geralt glanced around, furrow in his brow. “They all look the same.”

“They do not! It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Then show me what you see, spirit advisor.”

“Fine,” Jaskier huffed. “Those ones, over there. They look like icicles on the trees. I like them because they sparkle off the snow and from far away, they just...ooze Christmas.”

“Hmm.”

“But I also like the more colorful ones. You can’t tell me that seeing lights everywhere doesn’t leave you feeling the least bit festive?”

“They’re just...bright.”

“Fine, sir humbug. Be difficult.”

They made their way into town, Jaskier showing him different lights, and Geralt remaining unmoved. He felt it was truly a lot cause when Geralt made a noise next to him. “Those ones.”

“Which ones?”

“There. Next to the coffee shop.”

There was a small display, only the barest flash of lights that looked like holly and ivy. They were much more subdued than anything Jaskier picked out, but he couldn’t bring himself to dull Geralt’s small bit of enthusiasm. “They’re lovely. See, you’re getting the hang of it!”

“I’m also getting cold.”

“There’s just no pleasing you. Well, I suppose we could stop for a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier led them inside, ordering a large hot chocolate for himself, while Geralt ordered a black coffee.

“Geralt! Come on, you have to get something at least a little Christmas-y.”

“Fine. One pump of peppermint.”

“Oh for the love of God.”

He allowed Geralt his approximation of holiday cheer and sat at one of the tables. He watched smugly as Geralt took a sip and held back a grimace at his concoction.

“How is it?”

“People put peppermint in coffee all the time. How do they like this?”

“Well, usually there’s also chocolate…”

“Too sweet.”

“Unfortunate,” Jaskier said, taking a large sip of his hot chocolate.

“Jaskier...I...appreciate you doing this for me, but I think I’m just not meant for-”

“For Christmas? For nice things?”

“It’s just not my thing.”

Jaskier pursed his lips. “Well, be that as it may, I am your spirit advisor, and I did promise. At least allow me to try one more thing.”

Geralt nodded. Bolstered by his reaction, Jaskier pulled a small box out of his jacket.

“What’s that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a very good Christmas demonstration without a present, would it?”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

Jaskier waved his hand. “Seeing your face as you open this is gift enough. Open it!”

Geralt took the box wearily and unwrapped it carefully. Jaskier had half expected him to tear the wrapping paper apart, but instead he carefully untucked and smoothed out every edge. Inside was a small ornament, in the shape of a lion’s paw. Geralt stared at it quietly and Jaskier felt himself fidget.

“I know you call Ciri your little lion cub sometimes. I overheard you on the phone with her, and, you know, maybe I overstepped…” 

“Jaskier. Thank you. It’s...perfect.”

He looked up and saw Geralt with a soft smile, only this time it was only for Jaskier and he felt his heart melt. “You’re very, very welcome, Geralt,” he said, reaching out to clasp their hands together.

Geralt looked at their joined hands and slowly brought them to his lips. He kissed the back of Jaskier’s hand and he felt himself flush like a maiden in a period piece. Gracious, it was warm in here.

“Geralt…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You missed.”

The furrow in his brow was back. “What?”

Jaskier smiled. “You missed. Let me show you.”

He leaned forward and kissed Geralt softly, letting him take the lead and move forward to capture Jaskier’s lips fully. It was a bit minty and the angle was wrong, but Jaskier felt his heart swell anyway. It was perfectly Geralt.

They pulled away, and Jaskier smiled at the uncharacteristic flush across Geralt’s cheeks.

“Well,” he broke the silence, “I suppose my work here is done.”

“How’s that?”

“Nothing says Christmas like a Christmas kiss.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Jaskier laughed and stood. “You should know I always am, darling. Now, come on! We don’t want to miss the ice skating rink…”

[cantgetoutofmyheda]

Falling in Love in a Quarantine: Part 9.5

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

—

PART 9.5: DAY 20

After Lexa’s somewhat of a confession, she simply hopped out of bed as if nothing had happened and exited the room. Clarke, still totally unsure of what had transcended—and certainly unsure of how to navigate the rest of the day—stayed put in her spot.

Almost fifteen minutes later, Lexa called from downstairs, “Clarke,” a pause. “C’mon, breakfast is almost ready!”

Clarke scrunched her face. That’s where Lexa fled off to, because, of course.

She took her time—changed into another set of comfortable clothes, brushed her teeth, tried to salvage the mess of bedhead, and finally made her way down to the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” Clarke’s brow was raised—pancakes and eggs were set on the small table.

Lexa sat down at her normal seat, “I figured if we were going to have somewhat of an awkward conversation, pancakes would help us ease into it.”

“Do we have to do this right now?” Clarke sighed.

“We don’t,” Lexa shrugged. “But figured it would be better to, rather than us be home all day pretending like nothing happened.”

“Fine,” Clarke rolled her eyes, begrudgingly taking her seat as she watched Lexa put food onto her plate. “Thanks.”

“So,” they both started at the same time, both gave an awkward laugh, before Clarke finally spoke up again.

“Sorry,” she smiled. “You first?”

“Sure,” Lexa nodded. “I know you said you were mortified,” she started, her inquisitive eyes finding Clarke’s. “But I really want you to know you have no reason to be. I woke up and realized what was happening, and I just…”

She paused—perhaps the conversation she wanted to have with Clarke would be harder than she initially thought.

“You what?” Clarke finally asked, breaking the silence.

“I just wanted it, too,” Lexa confessed. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around a few things, and Anya has been saying–”

“Anya?” Clarke immediately turned her attention from the hot cake on her fork back up to Lexa. “What has Anya been saying?”

“Nothing, really,” Lexa shrugged. “I mean, she’s been asking me if something’s been going on between us, and I keep telling her that nothing has—that we’ve been the same as usual, but I suppose our ‘same as usual’ has always raised eyebrows in the past anyway.”

“I’m going to kill Raven,” Clarke shook her head.

“Raven?” Lexa tilted her head in thought. “What does Raven have to do with this?”

“She probably fucking told Anya everything,” Clarke let out. “I’m seriously going to kill her.”

“Everything?” Lexa set her fork down—her eyes were keenly focused on Clarke’s. “I don’t think Raven’s said anything to her. What do you mean by ‘everything?’”

“What has Anya been saying?” Clarke asked again.

Lexa scrunched her face, “I already told you. What are you talking about with Raven, though?”

“I’ve just been talking to Raven, too,” Clarke exhaled. Her train of thought drifted far away from the breakfast on her plate. Perhaps Lexa was right—pancakes serving as an early-morning icebreaker. “She’s been wondering if something’s been going on with us, also. And has been very vocal that she thinks something should be.”

Lexa nodded in understanding, “Have you said anything to her to make her push for that?”

“Yes,” Clarke admitted. “Yeah, I have.”

Lexa raised a brow, “I see.”

“Is that okay?” Clarke asked.

“Clarke,” Lexa softened her expression. “Of course it is. That’s why we’re sitting here talking about it. I mean, after this morning,” she looked up to meet Clarke’s eyes again. “I think it’s pretty clear that we’re both seeing our relationship differently.”

“When did you first think about it?” Clarke finally asked. She needed to know.

Lexa shrugged, “I think it may have always been in the back of my mind. I’m not sure. You?”

“Sophomore year,” Clarke stated. “I’ve thought about it since sophomore year.”

Lexa’s eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m saying something now,” Clarke tiredly sighed.

“But back then?” Lexa started. “Why didn’t you say something back then?”

“I tried to, once,” Clarke shook her head. “But we were nineteen, and you were—are—my best friend, and that was just the most terrifying thought.”

“What?” Lexa blinked. “When?”

“Remember sophomore year when you planned that road trip for me, you, Rae, and O to go visit Anya at school?” Clarke smiled at the thought. “Right around that time.”

“I do,” Lexa recalled. “Since then, huh?”

It was a shotty plan, at best, but Lexa was still proud of it. The four friends were to take the holiday weekend, a Friday and Monday off of class, and drive Raven’s old Lesabre on an eight-hour drive to visit Lexa’s childhood best friend. She had met the group a bunch of times, and thankfully, they got along famously—but it was now Lexa’s turn to go visit her, and she wanted to bring everyone else along. The route was easy—Raven was in charge of that. Clarke and Octavia were in charge of road snacks and games, and Lexa was in charge of the playlist for there and back.

It was the Thursday night before they were set to leave, and Lexa barged into Clarke’s dorm room—Clarke and the other two were sitting on the floor discussing food choices and different places to stop for gas and snack-refuels. The look of excitement and happiness on Lexa’s face caught Clarke’s attention—in the two years they had been friends, she had never seen Lexa look so proud, and that’s when she knew.

Lexa held her phone in the air, boastful about the two playlists she created. Beamed at the fact that she sprung for a Spotify premium account so that no ads would interrupt her music flow. Said it was going to be like a symphony of sounds in the car the whole way there and back, and made sure to let everyone know that “no skipping” was allowed.

The smile on Clarke’s face said it all, and though Lexa didn’t catch on, Raven and Octavia most certainly did.

“Was there a particular moment? Did something happen?” Lexa questioned. Her mind was trying to sift through all the memories the pair had shared, trying to pinpoint a place in time that would lead Clarke to feel the way she did all that time ago.

“The look on your face when you came into my room the night before we left,” Clarke sighed again. “You looked so happy, so proud. And my heart dropped into my stomach and I guess I just realized it. I don’t know.”

“That was a killer playlist,” Lexa smiled.

“Debatable,” Clarke raised a brow. “There was too much Kenny Chesney.”

“Clarke,” Lexa started. “I literally crafted that playlist to the scenery I knew we’d be driving through. It was perfect.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, recalling the drive from Nashville to New Orleans, “I wanted to gouge my fucking eyes out.”

“Glad you didn’t,” Lexa smiled. “They’re too pretty.”

Clarke immediately softened, offering Lexa a smile, “Wow, I would have done that sooner had I known it would have meant you’d start being nicer to me.”

“Please,” Lexa scoffed. “I’m always nice to you. It’s probably why everyone always thought something was going on with us.”

“Everyone?” Clarke asked, but was just met with a shrug from Lexa.

“When did you try to tell me?” Lexa asked, changing the subject.

Clarke looked towards the window, then back to Lexa, “A week or so after we got back from Anya’s. Raven and O had been pestering me to finally come clean, and I had some liquid courage, so I figured I might as well.”

“But you didn’t,” Lexa was confused. “I mean, you never told me.”

“Correct,” Clarke gave her a sad smile—it showed in her eyes. “We were in my room—Monty had dropped off a jug of his ‘Murder Sangria’ and we were just drinking it and watching a movie,” Clarke recalled. “I don’t even remember what it was, but something happened and I was the only one that laughed. I couldn’t believe they didn’t think the scene was funny and made a comment about how you would have.”

“We do have a weird sense of humor,” Lexa chuckled. “I’m sure whatever it was, wasn’t actually funny, Clarke.”

“Semantics,” Clarke rolled her eyes. “Anyway, they both started egging me on, teasing me about how I was crushing on you and finally got me up and had me marching towards your dorm room to tell you.”

“But you didn’t,” Lexa repeated, still confused as to why Clarke never said a thing to her. “What happened?”

Clarke, tipsy on sangria and drunk off of a mad crush, sauntered over from her dorm room to Lexa’s. Two and a half weeks’ worth of teasing from her other two friends finally drove her to do it. Lexa had opted to skip out on movie night—second semester finals were around the corner, and she was hellbent on maintaining that shining GPA of hers.

A knock at Lexa’s door brought her out of her zone, and once she opened it, she found Clarke with a certain glow to her. Lexa smiled immediately, excited to see her best friend. To Clarke, the smile was the same one that gutted her heart right out of her chest from a few Thursday night’s ago.

“I have to tell you something,” they said in unison—both girls wound up laughing, but Clarke’s anxiety got the best of her. As ready as she was to tell Lexa what she wanted to, she figured another minute wouldn’t hurt her cause.

“You first,” Clarke offered.

“You’ll never guess,” Lexa beamed, her smile was growing even wider, and Clarke’s chest swelled even more at the sight.

Clarke raised a brow, “Then I guess you’ll have to just tell me whatever is it that’s gotten you so riled up, Lex.”

“Costia asked me out,” the look in Lexa’s eyes matched the smile on her face. She was happy—no, she was ecstatic. She was ecstatic and elated and beautiful and everything in between, and Clarke tried to pretend to be the same for the other, but the fake smile on her face was barely enough to mask her devastation.

“Oh, wow, Lex,” Clarke offered.

Lexa nodded, not realizing Clarke’s reply was nowhere near sincere, “You remember, right? That girl I told you about from my poli-sci class?”

“Yeah, wow,” Clarke couldn’t find the words. The combination of the Murder Sangria and Lexa’s news was starting to make her sick, “Lexa that’s awesome. Really exciting. Really happy for you.”

“Thanks!” Lexa beamed. “I think we’re going to try to do something after our poli-sci final this week. I’ll keep you posted. I’m going to need your help with what to wear and all that stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clarke nodded. “Of course.”

“What’d you have to tell me?” Lexa tilted her head. “Sorry, you came here for something and I totally hijacked the conversation.”

Clarke shook her head, “No, it was stupid.” She closed her eyes, “Uh, we were watching a movie and something funny happened and I wanted to tell you, but I don’t even remember. Your news was much more exciting.”

“Oh, okay,” Lexa smiled. “I’m glad you came by, though.”

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded again. “Me too. Night, Lex.”

“I showed up to your room to tell you,” Clarke nearly winced at the thought. “And then you told me about Costia.”

Lexa immediately felt her stomach drop, “Clarke.”

Clarked nodded, “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Lexa asked—Costia was new, but Clarke was a constant. Surely, had Clarke said something, they would have been able to navigate it together all those years ago.

“I’d known you for two years at that point, Lex,” Clarke offered. “I thought you finishing your stupid playlist was the happiest I had seen you, and I guess it was. Until that exact moment.”

“But–”

“No,” Clarke sighed. “You had been talking about her all semester, Lexa. You had a wild crush on her and wouldn’t stop blabbing about it. She finally asked you out, and I wasn’t going to take that away from you.”

“But–”

“No buts, Lex,” Clarke shook her head. “It’s in the past, okay?”

“But it was so new with Cos, Clarke,” Lexa tried. “If you told me, then maybe we could have figured this all out back then.”

“I wasn’t going to get in the way of you and Costia, Lexa,” Clarke started. “And look—it lasted six years with you guys, so it clearly meant something.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, “It’s not like we ended up together.”

“Six years, though,” Clarke pointed out. “It meant something.”

Lexa nodded, “Okay, so have you always felt this way? Since then?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke shrugged. “I really don’t. After all that, I kind of brushed everything to the side. You’ve been my best friend since we met and it was more so me just coming to terms with the fact that that’s all you’d ever be to me. Maybe I kept it in the back of my mind, but since then, I’ve just looked at you as my best friend.”

“Okay,” Lexa nodded. “I get it. So what do we do now?”

“I mean,” Clarke finally broke a smile. “I guess we see where things go? I’d say we take it slow—and this is new territory, so I do want to do that—but considering this morning…”

“We can take things slow and see where things are going, Clarke,” Lexa nodded.

“Can we refrain from telling Raven and Anya and everyone else about this morning, though?” Clarke winced at the thought of the endless teasing that would come her way.

“How about,” Lexa leaned in, grabbing Clarke’s hand with her own. “We keep this between us right now. We’ll see where things go, and if we decide we’re on the right track, we can let those idiots in on it.”

“I like that,” Clarke nodded. “Just me and you?”

Lexa smiled, before releasing her hold on Clarke’s hand. She stood up and made her way towards the blonde, leaning over her seat to brush a stray golden lock behind her ear, “Just me and you.”

Clarke’s expression softened. Her heart was beating out of her chest.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Clarke,” Lexa smiled, looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction.

“Fucking finall–”

Clarke was cut off by the feeling of Lexa’s lips against her own. To her, the kiss was ten years in the making—but the softness of Lexa’s touch, the look she had just given her, the hand that was now caressing her neck—that made it all worth the wait.

[mirrorballls]

* liana liberato, cis woman + she/her | you know rory hanna, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, their whole life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to cool by soccer mommy like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that loud pen clicking rapidly in the corner of kahlo’s, collegiate sweatshirt two sizes too big, and constantly waiting for that deep breath of relief: a longing hope that one day, it’ll all settle down thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 26th, so they’re a virgo, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

hey team.

admins made poor decision and let me take up two more muses. i want to plot but we all know i’m butt ass slow at getting to those messages so. i’ll probably make a day of that once i finish starters this all makes sense in my little twisted head.

basics.

full name:  aurora catherine hanna. answers exclusively to rory. birthday:  august 26, 1998. big three:  virgo sun. aquarius moon. capricorn rising. sexuality:  bisexual. occupation:  social media manager for the local paper. neighborhood:  lives in her childhood home on orion avenue.

bio.

rory was born the youngest of three and it shows. i’m not saying third child syndrome is real, but if it is, rory has it. her family was seemingly average in every way: the white picket fence, the house on orion avenue, parents happily married, and not many curveballs coming their way. but as the youngest, rory has always been more of a self-starter. from a young age, she was both fiercely independent and constatnly doing whatever it took to get her parents attention: it’s a paradox, but it’s who she was. she burned the candle at both ends, making sure she was taken care of, on the right track, but always looking for a pat on the back about it.

education had always been a priority in the hanna family: both of their parents were teachers and they were sure to instill a sense of how important an education was. and it left marks on them all in a different way. for her brother, it meant pursuing teaching (smiles at austin) and for her, it was turning her education into something competitive, something she was so passionate about getting the absolute most out of, she was willing to go to extreme lengths. she, like many others, will blame it on the aftermath of gifted-and-talented programs, and being made to feel like she had to achieve at this high level or fail, no middle of the road.

and so, school became almost her singular focus. she was naturally clever, smart enough to learn little ways to come up for air, but for the most part, it was always at the forefront of her mind. and for that, she became her mother’s prize jewel. she would beam and laugh and joke with her bookclub friends about how rory would one day be at duke with the best of them. and her third child syndrome just ate that up. she loved the attention and the praise that dedicating herself to school got her, and she’d do anything to keep that high for a while.

so high school kind of sucked. she had her sights set on duke and knew, that to actually be able to go, she’d have to get enough scholarship money to make that feasible. because the more she talked to her mom about school, the more she indulged her desire to see rory succeed, almost as if she was living vicariously through her, school kept getting bigger. because at first it was getting to the top of her class. then it was duke. then it was law school, preferably ivy league. they had it all mapped out, ready for rory to just succeed and make it happen.

but obviously it’s not as easy as just succeeding. for four years, she was stretched thin. she got involved with as many clubs as she could, she took as many ap classes as her bloated schedule would allow. she played it cool around her friends, whenever she was actually able to see her friends, but for the most part, she spent high school holed up in the library or her bedroom studying and working on whatever paper or project would click her along on her way to duke.

but it all paid off. in the end, she got into duke, and was able to check off that box. but she also got into university of north carolina, and they were a lot more generous with the scholarships. she got a full ride, and with ambitions beyond undergrad, it just made sense to go ahead and take it, save her money for the big league law school she would pick out later. plus, she still got the satisfaction of knowing she got in, she had done enough to impress them, so she convinced herself that was all the payoff she needed.

she majored in journalism and political science, always with intentions of it being a solid base for law school. but she always had a preference for her journalism classes. she got really involved in campus publications and, while it wasn’t all consuming like high school extracurriculars had been, it was something she loved. she loved writing, she loved piecing together each week’s issue, she loved exploring her world through that lens, getting to shine a spotlight on the good and the bad in her community. if she had it her way, she’d pursue that full time. but she didn’t think that was possible.

about a year ago, around the time she was working on law school applications, her parents got divorced. it sent shockwaves through her family, rory and her siblings were largely blindsided by the decision, and it brought her to reconsider a lot of things. seeing her mother in this new light, it felt like half of her decisions for the past ten years had been made to please someone she felt like she didn’t even really know.

so, partly out of hedonism and partly out of spite, she decided to defer law school, eventually deciding to all together not go. she was breaking the cycle and doing something for herself for once. she would take her degree and pursue journalism, she would keep living with her dad and largely cut out her mom, she’d become the person she wanted to be and not who she was expected to be.

but living an amazing life out of spite is harder than she expected. she’s working on finding her footing again, but she didn’t expect to be out in the real world so soon. she took the only job the local paper had available, and she’s hoping to work her way up to writing and editing more, but for now, she’s taking what she can get.

personality wise she’s very determined and stubborn when it matters but she’s also always been a little impish. when she took breaks from studying to go out, she wanted it to count, so she’s been known to raise a little hell. just wanted to make sure she didn’t read as fully joyless nerd even though she is like at least a third joyless nerd.

connections.

high school friends!! rory came back to irving on the weekends/in the summer, but she kind of fell out of touch with a lot of her closest friends from high school. i picture her to have been close with a bunch of other smart girls with ambitions, so maybe its just a matter of them all being in town again to get back in the swing of things

summer flings!!! she hasn’t done a lot of dating dating, but she was prone to messing around a little in the summer. maybe ur muse was apart of that! they could be on the same page as her or maybe they wanted something more and it just didn’t pan out.

former rivals!!! maybe if they were in high school at the same time, your muse and rory were rivals. they still be rivals, and your muse has the upper hand since rory gave up on law school, or maybe they’re more on the same page now.

im very bad at thinking of these. but i would love to make plots with you all :)

but im gonna keep this short and sweet because i have Another Intro to write.... ugh

[baekwin]

interview tag

tagged by @sehunlyone​ @j-pping​ thank u frens! sorry i took so long to get around to this aaaah i miss u guys but work has taken over my life kjdhfjkd 

rules: answer the questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better!

name/nickname: shaye

pronouns: she/her

star sign: aries 

height: about 158cm, i am Small 

time currently: around noon

nationality: indian 

when is your birthday: in the month of march 

favourite band/groups: exo + all subgroups, nct, snsd + all subgroups, superm, i’ve said it once i’ll say it a million times i’m certified sm trash (also i luv aly&aj)

favourite solo artist: kpop - taeyeon, iu, lee hi, all exos. other - tiffany (? i think she goes here in recent years), kacey musgraves, billie eilish 

song stuck in your head: listen by aly&aj

last movie you watched: i think hercules a couple weeks ago! 

last show you binged: his dark materials season 2!!!! i’m so hyped that this series exists, i loved the books as a kid but somehow i can’t seem to find any other person who’s read them omg

when you created your blog: 2010ish, but went inactive around 2015 and came back in may 2020

last thing you googled: whether or not you can use wood stain indoors, bc i live in a v tall apartment building and am getting the quarantine urge to redo my room furniture

other blogs: none!

why I chose my url: because i love baekhyun and i love winwin! 

do you get asks: not very often, but they’re all usually very nice! ^^ i have a request sitting in there right now which i literally asKED FOR and then immediately got too busy to do it ahksdfhkj but anon if you’re reading this i will get around to it, i didn’t forget!!! 

how many people are you following: 200, a lot of them are old inactive blogs though so I should clear it out soon 

how many followers do you have: a number that i can’t believe 🥺 i’m still debating whether or not to do a ff/celebration soon bc i am very close to a milestone, but i don’t wanna get wrapped up in numbers so i might not. tbd 

average hours of sleep: most days usually 6-7, trying to sleep earlier and get to 8!! i am a tired gal 

lucky numbers: hmmm i don’t think i have one in the usual sense, but every time something good happens in my life i’m surrounded by the number 11 (idk if y’all believe in angel numbers or anything, but this has happened to me toooooo many times for me to not)

instruments: i used to play the piano, french horn, and flute, and one day i wanna play the guitar and learn how to sing but those require time which i don’t currently have

what i’m currently wearing: a lightning mcqueen sweatshirt and constellation-print sweatpants and blue fuzzy socks. yes it is as comfortable as it sounds

dream job: not quite sure, and i’m honestly happy not knowing! as recently as two years ago i thought my dream job was an entirely different thing than it is today, so as i get further in my career and learn more about my industry i assume that’ll keep happening 

dream trip: i have always wanted to visit spain and greece!!! i’ve been to japan (tokyo) once but it was for an extracurricular i did in high school, so i didn’t have much time to explore. i would love to go again and stay for a week or so. also singapore

favorite food: i’m an absolute mac and cheese hoe

favorite song: in general, oasis!!! right now according to spotify it’s fermata by oh!gg which......yeah i fkn love that song 

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: pokémon, harry potter, or atla! also gonna cheat and add his dark materials bc i just finished watching s2 and i always thought the concept of a daemon was so cool 

tagging: uhh i dont think i can tag 20 lol but @delhyun @nctsworld @kangseulqi @leemarkies @tten @taeminnomuyeppeo @dokyunqsoo @ciaozhan no obligation to do it/ignore if you already did, i’m just thinking of youuuuu ❤️

[gae-gae-homosexual-gae]

maybe cliffdiving can be our always || oidai

this is an oidai fic i’ve already posted to ao3 and wattpad, but hasn’t gotten much traction.  it’s established relationship fluff, and has background tensuga.

I based this fic off of a playlist I made! Here's the spotify link ;)

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4RFJ4i79gs3XOuCcYo0SEs?si=hNO0vTehQZmKKdREeA58cQ

“Daichi! Are you crazy!”

Tōru shrieked through his laugh, fear mixing with elation as Daichi held onto him on their way down. The pair were in the US for a trip, and Daichi had claimed he always wanted to go cliff diving, so here they were.

The fall was freeing. Tōru felt on top of the world, like he’d never even had a lick of pride in his life because this was the moment he felt most in control- even though he had absolutely none. His hair floated in the wind, ears popping as the air pressure changed.

He looked to Daichi, molten chocolate eyes blown wide but filled with so much joy, a smile bold enough to stop the turn of the Earth itself.

He’ll never regret this.

Daichi promised to hold Tōru on the way down, to wade in the water until he was sure that he was safe, to help him back to shore if needed. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Tōru to even agree to these terms, so he didn’t want to test his luck.

“Yes! But you love me for it!”

The two laughed, Tōru’s still filled with some slight screaming, and Daichi told Tōru to take a breath less than two seconds before they hit the water, bubbles filling their ears.

Tōru opened his eyes wide, hair floating around his face, and started kicking his way to the surface. He would never tell Daichi, but that was so fucking fun.

Daichi was already on the surface by the time Tōru got there, water dripping from his hair and a wide smile on his face.

“I told you it was fun, Tōru!”

Tōru didn’t even have the energy to fight back- it was fun. It was so, so fun, and he already wanted to do it again.

“Race you back?”

“You’re on.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dai, do we really have to go back to Japan?”

“Do you want to stay in Washington?”

Tōru thought for a moment. There was a kind of quiet chaos here. It was almost like he and Daichi could discover something new every day for the rest of their lives and still not find everything Forks had to offer.

“And if I said yes?”

“I would do anything for you, princess, you know that.”

Tōru blushed at the nickname.

“You deserve to be happy too, ‘Chi.”

“I’m happy wherever I am with you. We can always go back to visit. I’m sure we can find jobs here. Besides, Iwaizumi said you needed to stop playing, at least professionally.”

Tōru agreed silently, his knee twinging, though he was still bitter about it. It wasn’t like he only excelled in volleyball, but it was the only thing besides his boyfriend that made him happiest.

“What about-”

“Tōru, look at me.”

He felt a strong hand grip his chin, turning his face to meet Daichi’s eyes.

“Stop worrying about everyone else for once. You don’t owe anyone anything. What would make you happy, first and foremost?”

Fuck. Daichi always knew when Tōru started spiraling, which he was about to do.

“I guess we should start looking for jobs and a new place, huh?”

Their lips met, Daichi smiling through their kiss.

He wanted this too.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moving across a city or two is stressful enough, but moving countries is a whole other story. It wasn’t the worst thing Tōru’s experienced, not by a long shot, but it was definitely wearing on his nerves. He gripped the mug full of tea so tightly it made his knuckles whiten, the ceramic warm enough to burn anyone else’s skin.

Getting jobs was hard enough- and Tōru was immediately grateful that Daichi had made him go to college, or he’d be stuck working a minimum-wage job.

He’d secured a job as a trainer at a local gym, and he already had seven clients booked by the time he got home from his first shift- everyone wanted to work with the Olympic gold medalist.

Daichi got a job as a fireman, his toned muscles being an easy sell. The two were constantly busy and massages had become a regular thing in the shitty motel they’d called home for the last few weeks.

Tōru was going to need so many fucking massages when they finished moving everything into their apartment.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sacchan!! Guess what?”

“What is it, Oi?”

“I can marry Dai here!”

The line was silent for a few seconds. One of the biggest barriers of their relationships had been the laws against their marriages in Japan. Satori and Kōshi had moved to France, for the redhead’s dreams of being a chocolatier and the silver-haired man’s dreams of living in the city of love, and they’d gotten engaged there recently.

“Does Daikkun know that?”

“I don’t know, but I just saw a same-sex wedding on TV, so I had to look it up!”

Tōru heard a sigh on the other line, followed by some shuffling. A new voice responded, though a welcome one.

“Tōru, love, we both know Daichi is a dense man. You might have to drop hints, or he’ll never get it.”

“Kō, I want him to be the one to figure it out. All I know is that I’m going to be late for our date, so I’ll talk to you later! I love both of you, so much!”

“We love you too, Tōru. Have fun on your date.”

The line clicked. Tōru knew Kōshi was right, that his boyfriend wasn’t the smartest sometimes, but Tōru knew their love was completely genuine. Daichi would do anything for him and Tōru would do the same.

Dress comfortably, Daichi had told him. They’d been in Forks for two years now, but still Tōru hadn’t a single clue what the two would be doing for the evening. He tugged on a pair of his own jeans and one of Daichi’s worn-out band tees, opting for comfort over style.

The tee hung loosely from his body- Daichi had always been the more built one of the two- and he looked fucking phenomenal. Tōru grabbed Daichi’s second leather jacket, knowing they’d be taking his bike tonight.

When Daichi got home he didn’t even bother to come inside, opting instead to honk at Tōru, shocking him out of his thoughts.

“Hey babe,” Daichi greeted Tōru, sealing it with a kiss. “You look amazing.”

Tōru blushed, still not accustomed to the way Daichi genuinely meant every compliment he gave.

“Ready?”

Tōru nodded, putting on his helmet and climbing behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him.

“You bet.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two rode out of the city, towards the coast. They took the highway that stretched for miles against the beach, sunset casting beautiful orange and pink tones to the sands. Daichi pulled to a stop near a small 50’s themed diner, grabbing Tōru’s hand and leading him inside.

“We came all this way for a diner?”

“Patience is a virtue, Tōru.”

Daichi ordered food for the both of them; he’d always seemed to know what Tōru would like best. They chatted and locked their legs under the table, tossing the occasional fry at each other and filling the nearly empty diner with their combined laughter.

After he finished eating, Tōru rested his head in his hand, staring at Daichi who was paying their bill before returning with a huge smile on his face.

“I love you, ‘Chi.”

“I love you too. Let’s go, we have one more stop before we go home.”

“Let’s get going then.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their final destination was back near Forks- leaving Tōru even more confused as to why they travelled all that way to eat some greasy diner food- though he wasn’t complaining. The food had been amazing, after all.

They pulled to a stop at an all-too-familiar stretch of cliffs.

“Dai?”

“Remember this place? We went cliff diving on our first day in Washington, two years ago today. You were so scared, I told you it would be okay but you still screamed the whole way down. When the first jump was over, though, you asked to do it again and again. You even complained when we had to go back to the hotel.”

Tōru stared at his Daichi, who was staring out into the water. The last remnants of sunshine clung to his tanned skin, made his eyes sparkle.

“We had so much fun. You tried your first American-style cheeseburger that night, because you refused to eat them with me until you were too tired to argue anymore. I fell even more in love with you when the ketchup sat in the corner of your mouth and you wiped it away.”

Tōru grimaced a little- he hated having food anywhere on his face.

“Tōru, I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you and all of the beauty that comes with it. I’m in love with the way you scrunch your nose when you don’t like my joke, I’m in love with your bedhead, I’m in love with the way you look in my clothes. I’m in love with the way you always smell like freshly brewed coffee even though you hate the taste. I’m in love with the way you begged me to take you to Roswell for the aliens. I’m in love with the way you are so passionate about everything, from politics to your favourite kind of sweeteners to add to different kinds of tea. I’m so hopelessly in love with you, Tōru.”

Tōru stayed silent, processing everything his boyfriend just said. It was a lot to take in- all of the things his past lovers had complained about were the same things Daichi loved about him. Exactly how the hell did he get so lucky?

“I’m so fucking in love with you, I know that and you know that and our family knows that. We all know that but still, I can’t help but want to make everyone know that.”

All of a sudden, Daichi was on his knee, holding Tōru’s hands in his own. Tōru gasped slightly, blush rising furiously onto his face.

“I’m in love with you, Tōru, and I want to share everything with you- especially my last name. Will you take it, like you took my heart?”

The ring, though simple, was gorgeous. Even so, it held nothing to the way Daichi looked. Tōru has it bad for the man currently beneath him.

“Of course I will.”

Maybe he underestimated Daichi, and so did Satori and Kōshi.

He didn’t need to drop any hints.

He just needed to live the rest of his life with his overly warm fiancé.

[industrious-sloth]

9. FOLKORE by Taylor Swift

Oh boy. Let me preface this by saying I am a late convert to Taylor Swift. I didn’t like he country albums, I really did not appreciate being bombarded by news of what she was up to despite not having asked; and didn’t think she could sing. Once I blacklisted the #taylor swift tag, though, I found that I could enjoy some of her pop stuff isolated from all the discourse around it. Blank Space still is my favourite song of hers, something a righteous and true swiftie might sneer at (there’s a great episode of the Switched on Pop podcast explaining why Blank Space works so well, back from when it first came out).

There’s this strange thing about Taylor Swift’s albums, though. I never like them the first time I listen to them. It’s not that I blatantly dislike them, but they take some getting used to. Take hoax, for instance, which at first ranked between blah and meh, yet now is one of my favourites. In no way is this odd effect exclusive to Folklore, either – last year’s Lover, which remains her best in my opinion, also needed to grow on the listener, as did Reputation. Evermore is yet to grow on me, but at this point I doubt it will – she would have done better by launching it as a B-side to Folklore as opposed to as its own album, because it really just sounds like the Folklore Rejects Compilation (apart from Long Story Short and Champagne Problems).

All of this got me thinking about the number of chances we give albums before we make up our minds about them. Would I have enjoyed Folklore as much as I did, in the end, had it not been in everyone’s mind? Had it not been trending for the entire week it came out, would I have given it another shot? Some albums do take longer to reveal themselves, so how do you know when they simply won’t? Am I going to stand corrected in two months saying that actually, Evermore is a fine album? And if I do, wouldn’t it be a little messed up that it is only due to how unescapable Taylor Swift is? Furthermore, how can I even tell whether Folklore is a good record or if I have simply been overexposed to it, having come to find comfort in songs to which I know the lyrics and notes? How can one even attempt to find common ground in criticism when one is forced into “Distant Listening”?

Perhaps we would do best to start at the more basic level, no discourse: just the good, the bad, and the weird. Actually, let’s start with the bad, as that is always more fun for evil-spirited people such as myself: I hate the grammar in this album – and by that, I don’t mean the pretentious interactions some critics refer to as grammar, but the actual grammar. I am an English teacher, and pop singers really complicate my life when they take a perfectly usable song to teach students English, and ruin it with bad grammar. It happened last year with The Man  – why couldn’t she have said If I were a man? Why, god, why? I could have been able to teach them second conditionals and feminism– and again in songs here.

Take The 1, for instance, where she says “if you wanted me, you really should have showed”, instead of the correct participle form shown. It wouldn’t have made any difference whatsoever, rhyme or song wise, the one thing it would have done is save the life of ESL teachers everywhere. In this same song, she constantly uses “would’ve been” when she should be using “had”. Listen, I would not be pointing this out were it not extremely bothersome to me as a Brazilian English major. I start getting like Henry Higgins, about to burst into Why Can’t the English Teach Their Children How to Speak? If I ever made such mistakes, people would think I didn’t speak proper English.

Honestly, the 1 isn’t even the worst song grammar-wise – I can still listen to it and enjoy it, unlike mad woman, which is every ESL teacher’s nightmare. I can just imagine a snarky pre-teen going “But Taylor Swift says more crazy instead of crazier and more angry instead of angrier, and she’s American, so she’s right!” and closing the book on comparatives. Why must Taylor make my life so hard? Also, what’s up with the lower-case titles? That’s just pretentious. And yes, it’s annoying when Ariana does it as well.

Anyhow, this is a great album despite my pet-peeves. The storytelling is fun, the lyrics brilliant as usual, and Taylor’s realisation that she doesn’t always have to write about herself even better. I also love the unrequited rhymes in this, You heard the rumours from Inez/ You can’t believe a word she says is such a kooky combination, it’s practically insane. Those, nevertheless, make startling appearances all over the record, here’s another one, from last great american dynasty,  which could have been written for Lana Del Rey: The wedding was charming, but a little gauche/ There’s only so far new money goes.

Taylor really rhymed Inez with says, and gauche with goes. And it worked. Also, when she sings “I’ve been meaning to tell you your house was haunted”… What do you mean, you’ve been meaning to tell them? Is it not pressing enough?

“Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I saw a poltergeist at your house.”

“What, like, now?”

“No, I saw it a couple of months ago. Forgot to mention it.”

Incredible. I love lyrics that make you think – not in a philosophical or existential way, just, you know, about the situation their acceptance of their premise actually requires. Even the metaphors: my only one, my smoking gun. What does that mean? I don’t know, but I want to think about it until it makes sense!

Obviously, betty is everyone’s darling, but this is me trying is the real lyrical masterpiece of this album, at least for all clinical depressives out there, including yours truly. Is it extremely bold of Taylor Swift to write a Former Gifted Kid anthem, considering she has not ceased to put out hit after hit since she was in her teens? As an ex-gifted kid myself, I am okay with it as long as it’s good and accurate.

Folklore has so many secrets, so many auburn leaves paving its way, we could not possibly talk about every one of them. It has certainly felt like a quarantine album in that it’s been a fine quarantine companion, always whispering something new.

Best song: Spotify Wrapped doesn’t lie, and it’s my tears ricochet even though some of the lyrics in it are sort of over-the-top (I’m seriously talking about every time the word ricochet shows up, and nothing else).

Skip: mad woman. I cannot listen to it. Infuriating.

Best lyrics: You told me all of my cages were mental/ So I got wasted like all my potential (this is me trying)

I mean, how can you beat that? I’m seriously asking. For a friend

[cycwrites]

Four Drinks I’m Wasted

Angst lite Staubrey standalone AU oneshot. 

Something I didn’t plan on writing and then I had ideas while driving home. I’m annoyed that I’m writing angst. I’m even more annoyed I picked on Aubrey but it… fit.

Inspired by King Princess’ ‘Talia’ (YouTube / Spotify / Lyrics) but I’m a soft and useless human so the angst is merely ‘light medium’.

Thanks as always to @tiny-maus-boots for the beta and to @wlwoolf for helping classify the angst level.

Rated: Mature-ish. Drinking & almost driving.

Words: 3,286

Also on AO3 and FFN

Master Post

----------------------------------------------

~A~

Aubrey groaned quietly as she swam through the thick whiskey haze toward consciousness.

As had become standard, she ran through a mental hangover checklist to try and take stock of what she’d been up to the night before and how rough her morning might be.

Headache – check.

Feeling like something died in her mouth – check.

Nausea – check, though she knew it could be worse.

At home in her own bed instead of passed out on the couch, or the bathroom floor, or once in the shrub outside in her backyard… she listened for the comforting bubble of the aquarium across the room – check.

Imagined warmth of the woman who left her lying beside her in bed?

Fucking. Check.

Faint memories of the night before were slow to surface.

“Goddamnit Aubrey, give me your fucking keys.” Hands pulled at her arm, trying to pry her fingers apart.

“Fuck you, Beca.” Aubrey shot back, lifting her hand above her head. “Why do you even care? You’ve never really liked me, so what the fuck business of yours is it if I live or die?”

It wasn’t that she had a death wish. It wasn’t like she wanted to die. She had just stopped caring one way or the other.

“Seriously? You can say that to me?” Beca looked hurt – shocked and devastated Aubrey would think later – and even though part of her was horrified at what she was saying, it was at the bottom of a sea of liquor and she didn’t care. Wouldn’t let herself. “If I didn’t fucking care, Aubrey, I wouldn’t fucking be here stopping you from fucking killing yourself by getting into your fucking car!”

Aubrey sneered and keyed the remote lock. “Who asked you to?” She opened the door and prepared to get in when she was staggered forward by a weight on her back. Shock worked its way through the alcohol in her system as she realized Beca had literally jumped on her back and was trying to bodily prevent Aubrey from sitting in the driver’s seat.

“I am not going to let you leave us! I am not going to let you fucking leave me and Chloe behind to explain to Stacie what the fuck happened! I am not going to fucking let you fucking quit! Posens don’t fucking quit!”

Aubrey swung in a half circle, trying to dislodge the arms and legs that were wrapped tightly around her body. Beca’s words were bouncing around in her head, trying to remind her that she wasn’t truly alone, she had people who cared and it was she who was pushing them away. With a strength she didn’t know she had she flung Beca off her in an attempt to remove all the guilt that had slammed into her harder than Beca’s tackle.

Anger suffused her, made her want to lash out and in the cold light of morning she would realize it was at herself but at the time Beca had all her focus. She swung her fist at Beca’s head, noticing her friend’s (because she still was, despite everything Aubrey had been saying to her and Aubrey knew it) eyes widen in shock and move too late to miss it entirely but it merely skimmed off her cheek and Aubrey’s hand slammed into the metal frame between the front and rear doors.

“Aubrey!”

That explained the throbbing that had been slowly getting worse in her hand. Still laying with her eyes closed she flexed her right hand carefully, relieved that it didn’t seem to be broken, just swollen and painful. The rest of the night was only bits and pieces but she thought that a terrified Beca had frantically checked her for broken bones and carefully deposited Aubrey in the passenger seat and drove them home. There were flashes of red hair, ice packs and possibly someone had brushed her teeth for her? She also thought that Beca had undressed her and dumped her less than carefully into bed, but tucked her in.

She really had been shitty to Beca and Chloe since Stacie had walked out on her three months ago. She knew they loved her. That they had been there for her. Trying to keep her from the spiral they could see happening. Comfort take-out food and movie nights that Beca hadn’t said a word about. Nothing had helped.

The drinking hadn’t been the plan. She wasn’t an alcoholic, even though that’s exactly what alcoholics said. She came from a family of high functioning alcoholics and knew the signs. Even if she could lie to others, Aubrey could almost never lie to herself. Her self-hatred would have jumped at the chance to call her a failure for joining the ranks of her boozy relatives after a life of vowing never to become them. She could stop whenever she wanted. Except she didn’t want to.

Because the only time Aubrey could lie to herself was when she was drunk.

She could make herself believe that Stacie was still there.

Drink enough and she could see the love of her life in front of her, dancing; smiling that sexy smile that was meant for only Aubrey. The one that promised sinful things in silken sheets and made her body sing in anticipation.

Feel her touch. Taste her lipstick.

Feel her lying in bed when Aubrey finally collapsed into it, certain she would remain when Aubrey woke.

They had been together for years, waiting to get married until Aubrey had finished law school and got settled at a firm. The wedding was small, immediate friends and family only, and the honeymoon was heaven on Earth. When they got back, Aubrey began to work her way through the ranks, lured ever on by the promise of being made a junior partner if she just worked hard enough.

The fights began their second year of marriage.

“I’m doing it for us, for our future!” Aubrey slammed down the notepad she’d been writing on. “Why can’t you see that?”

“What future, Aubrey?!” Stacie stood in the doorway, back straight and eyes snapping fire. And, Aubrey would only realize as she played the memories back after it had all fallen apart, pain and loneliness. “What kind of future are you working towards if I never get to fucking see you?”

“I just need a little more time! They have to promote me this time!” She gritted her teeth. “I’m doing it for us!”

The fight was always the same.

Until one day it wasn’t.

“I don’t think I have any more time to give, Aubrey. I miss you even when you’re here. Buried in the next case… and the next.” Stacie wasn’t sobbing but tears streamed down her cheeks and Aubrey’s chest went cold. “It hurts too much.”

Every night she would sort through her memories, pulling out favorites until she cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could be so stupid.

Three weeks after Stacie had walked out and not come back except to pack her bags, Aubrey had hurt so much she drank just to numb the pain. There was a block of ice that ached in her chest until she drowned it in whatever was handy. She’d mentally joke that she herself was on the rocks as she took another drink. She imagined what she would do if Stacie were there. What she’d say. How she’d vow to do better, be a better wife. Make up every missed dinner, missed phone call, missed nights on the couch binge watching Netflix.

As the night grew late and the bottle grew lighter, it was almost like Stacie had been there and Aubrey fell asleep thinking Stacie was beside her.

She was shattered when she woke alone in the morning and called in sick for the first time.

That was only the beginning.

She chased the dream every night, while growing more and more irritable at work. Stormed out of meetings after arriving late. Snapped at clients and yelled at interns. Counted the seconds until she could get home and open the bottle she’d buy on the way.

Two weeks ago she’d gone to work still half-drunk from the night before.

She was put on suspension pending a review. She’d been a model employee until then and her boss gave her three weeks to get her shit together. Personally she thought they were giving her a chance because she was their best researcher and the boss thought her legs looked great in a skirt.

Aubrey stayed home and drank for the first week.

Chloe and Beca had been alternately furious and cloyingly concerned when they found out.

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve-“ Chloe somehow looked ready to scream and cry at the same time.

“Helped?” Aubrey laughed derisively. “No, you can’t.”

“We love you, Aubrey. We just want you to be happy.” Chloe’s hand on her arm had burned and Aubrey jerked free and stalked to the kitchen.

“Got a time machine in your pocket, Chlo?” Aubrey snorted and poured herself another shot.

It was the same old shit every time. They couldn’t help her and she didn’t even know why they would try. There was obviously something wrong with her; something that made her unlovable. She had ruined the one thing that gave her life meaning. Stacie had left her and it was just a matter of time before Beca and Chloe figured it out and left. She didn’t deserve them and maybe it was just better to lose them now than later when she failed them too.

She had started going to their favorite bar because there were different memories there that she wanted to relive.

Winning at darts despite Stacie’s long arms that Aubrey teased gave her an advantage.

Slow dancing to the jukebox in a dark corner as if they were the only two in the room.

Losing at pool because Stacie was a natural born hustler.

Unfortunately the problem with going to your favorite local bar is that sometimes they know you.

Sometimes they know your friends.

Sometimes they call annoying busybodies who try to tell you that you have to stop.

But she couldn’t stop because then the pain would find her and Aubrey had always been an amazing runner in school. It translated easily from physical activity to metaphorical sprints void of her own mind.

She had to drink to keep Stacie with her any way she could. Why couldn’t they see that?

She sighed and tried to find the energy to move. To dispel that feeling of warmth in bed with her. The more awake she was before she got up, the more that seemed to hurt. Bracing herself she reached out her left hand to sweep through the empty space that matched the one in her heart.

Her fingers brushed against warm, soft skin.

She froze, her mind somewhere between ‘I’ve finally done it - I’ve drunk myself into insanity’ and ‘Beca must have stayed to make sure I didn’t actually kill myself.’ She pulled her hand back to her side and clenched both fists, increasing the throbbing ache from where she’d punched her own car.

“Aubrey.”

Everything shut down. Because that wasn’t Beca.

She was afraid to look - it couldn’t be. She couldn’t be here. Because Aubrey had fucked it up, fucked it all up: her friends; her work; the reason for her very existence.

“Bree.” Warm living fingers took her cold nerveless ones and pressed them to lips Aubrey could see clearly in the screaming darkness of her mind.

“You can’t be here.” Aubrey’s voice shook so bad it was almost intelligible. “I pushed you away.”

“I’m here.” Warm breath skimmed over her fingers. It felt so real. More real than the alcohol dreams usually did. She must have really fucked up if she was still this drunk. “All you have to do is open your eyes and look at me.”

“I always see you,” Aubrey said softly. Since this wasn’t real, she squeezed the hand holding hers. “At least when I drink... You’re here. You’re in my arms. And I stop feeling like I’m dying in slow motion.”

“Oh baby.” The broken, sorrowful tenderness in it further opened wounds that had never even begun to heal. “This isn’t who you are.” Drops of liquid hit her hand and Aubrey wondered how a dream could cry. “I know this isn’t you.”

“I don’t know who I am without you.” Aubrey said softly. “I don’t know how to find myself without you to catch me.” Introspection wasn’t normal for her - overthinking, yes, but not this two way dialog with her subconscious. But she had to admit, she found it comforting to hear Stacie’s voice wrap around her once more.

“I’m sorry I left.” Lips kissed her hand again. “I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed and fought for us.”

“It’s all my fault. I was so wrong,” Aubrey stirred restlessly when the warmth shifted closer to her. “I couldn’t see I was working toward nothing at the cost of everything.” She gave a bitter laugh. “They weren’t going to make me a partner; I was just too blind to see he was just using me to win his own damn cases.” She shook her head against her pillow. “Doesn’t matter, they’re probably going to fire me.”

“You’re better than them, Bree.” Another shift and the long, lithe body that pressed against her brought tears to Aubrey’s eyes. “I’ve always told you that you need to find a place who appreciates you as something other than a drone slave.”

“Maybe,” Aubrey shrugged carelessly. “But what does it matter now? I’ve thrown away the only future that ever really mattered.” A sob choked her. “I miss you so much, love.” The advantages of hallucinating were you could say anything and the only person to hear it was you. “The world has no laughter. No color. No light. No purpose. No hope.”

“Honey.” Lips pressed against her temple. “Please look at me. See me.” She sounded so sad, so desperate that Aubrey felt new guilt lap at her.

“You’ll disappear. Like you always do when I wake up.” Aubrey licked her dry lips. “I’m not ready… for that yet.” It hurt, oh it hurt to feel her so clearly after months of smoke and shadows. But to lose this dream would be so much worse.

“I won’t disappear.” Another kiss to her temple as a long arm stretched across her stomach. “I promise you.” The sense of comfort – of home – the achingly familiar touch brought was so strong Aubrey’s body relaxed of its own volition.

“I’ve broken my promises so many times… ” Aubrey said wistfully. “I would give anything to go back and do it over. Treat you better – because you deserve nothing but love. Not be ignored or asked to wait a few minutes that stretched late into the night. Show you that nothing else in this entire fucked up world matters but you.”

“Do that now. Open your eyes and look at me, Aubrey.” The whisper in her ear was everything Aubrey wanted to believe. Everything she’d tried to believe before and woke to an empty bed. An empty house. An empty heart.

“I’m afraid to.” Tears slipped from her eyes as she began, for the first time, to wonder.

She was afraid to be alone.

Suddenly terrified she was not.

“Don’t be - I’m here, love.” Lips trailed over the side of her face. “I swear.” Hands took hers and pressed it against a strong and fast beating heart. “I’m here.”

“That’s why I’m afraid,” Aubrey whispered, unable to recognize herself in the broken voice that hung in the air.

“Please.”

Aubrey swallowed thickly as she balanced on the knife edge of indecision.

If she did and Stacie wasn’t there, the weight of loneliness would quite likely crush her.

If Stacie was there… Aubrey’s shame would kill her. She wasn’t proud of who she’d become. She knew she was out of control. She just didn’t care anymore.

If Stacie was actually there… Aubrey could smell the alcohol coming from her own pores. She knew the state of their house. The bottles left carelessly on counters. Take out containers piled up on top of a garbage can too full. She didn’t want to see the disappointment or, worse, the pity.

“I’m ashamed.” She hadn’t meant to say it and wished she could take the words back. “I’ve… I’m not… I don’t deserve…” she trailed off as a sob rose viciously in her chest and all but strangled her as it refused to come out. “You.”

“I love you,” Stacie said softly, still holding Aubrey’s hand against her chest. “We’ll get through this. There’s nothing that we can’t work through as long as we’re together. Nothing is lost forever.”

“You still love me? After… everything?” She didn’t want to believe… couldn’t stop hoping.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Aubrey Posen.” Stacie’s voice was still quiet but the truth in her words was louder than the rush of blood in Aubrey’s ears. “The past three months all I’ve done is miss you. I told myself otherwise, but when Beca called me last night… in hysterics… told me how you didn’t care if you lived or died…” A tremor shook the bed as Stacie’s breath hitched. “Nothing that had happened mattered  anymore. I couldn’t live in a world where you were not. I came right over; Beca let me in. She and Chloe are passed out on the couch and I’ve been watching you sleep, afraid you’d slip away if I closed my eyes.”

“Funny,” Aubrey gave a humorless chuckle. “I’m afraid you’ll slip away if I open mine.”

“I know,” Stacie whispered. “But I’m here, love.”

Aubrey steeled herself. Tried to harden her heart so when she opened her eyes to an empty room it wouldn’t destroy her.

“Before I do, there’s something I have to tell you. While I can. Before you’re gone.” Aubrey took a careful breath. “You are the best part of me, Stacie. I was nothing before you and I’m less than nothing without you. You brought a love into my life I thought I didn’t need and I broke the promises I made when we got married. I took you for granted and mere words cannot express how sorry I am that I hurt you. If you were really here, I would spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of your love.”

Gentle fingers against her cheek followed as Aubrey turned her head, her heart trying to break its way out of the constraints of her ribcage.

“I know, Aubrey… but you already are. We just lost sight of that.” A gentle kiss was placed against her lips. “I promise we’ll be better. Both of us.”

Slowly, as if she were expecting a blow, Aubrey opened her eyes to stare into liquid emerald pools that shimmered with tears. She waited for several seconds, waiting for the mirage to vanish like so many had.

But she didn’t.

Stacie smiled at her, so tenderly that Aubrey’s heart almost broke with the love that welled up inside her.

Wonderingly Aubrey reached up and touched her jaw, tracing one thumb across her lips.

“Stacie?” Hopeful. Terrified.

“Always, my only.” Stacie pulled her in close and Aubrey buried her face in her neck, inhaling deeply as the scent that was uniquely Stacie’s filled her senses. One she had been unable to replicate no matter how much she drank. She shuddered as giant glaciers cracked and fell away, freeing her from the weight that had been pressing on her for months. Years. “Always.”

Real.

Solid.

Hers.

[zabreti]

the time has finally come for me to start expressing what i have been overwhelmingly feeling for the past week, since i started to properly listen to this sunshine of a woman named joanna newsom. i want to- actually, i need to vent a little about the album ys, since it’s the one i first listened to. plus my initial contact with joanna’s work and thoughts that came with it

even though i only found out about her a few months ago, i guess everyone knows her(?); if you don’t, you should. there’s not one single moment in which i’m not mad at myself for not finding her sooner. so fyi, she’s a harpist, pianist, singer and songwriter from nevada. according to some sources, she may be the most famous harpist alive today; i really don’t know about you, but it really sounds quite badass for me.

i started searching for her stuff after watching her husband’s - andy samberg - multiple interviews, where he would be sometimes asked about their marriage. i’ve been binge watching random interviews with people i like for the last weeks, and i found myself actually watching some interviews of hers before i even got to listen to her music.

btw, look at this fucking adorable couple. just look at them for a second.

first of all, what a lovely woman! each answer, each laughter, each little thing she did on camera caused an admiration for the idea of andy and her together to grow strongly; i wasn’t even sure if it was ok for me to feel so strongly about someone else’s relationship. my curiosity grew when i started to read the comments on these videos on youtube, pretty much 100% of them being about her intelligence, her talent and how her music sounds angelical, mystical and perfectly constructed. (let it be said that it only grew more and more as i watched every single interviewer asking both andy and joanna about how different their works are, and how different they appear to be as individuals; not only was suggested that andy would probably not rise up to such an intelligent, serious taste as to fall in love with her (he doesn’t even need to say a word for anyone to realize how passionately in love he is with joanna and her entire work), but also said that no one could believe she was actually able to be a goofy, easy-going, good-humored person because of the lyrics she writes. ok, i could spend hours listing the unnecessary questions i identified in these interviews, and how i get easily annoyed by these famous hosts assuming stuff or trying to create an uncomfortable environment; and don’t even get me started on the fact that most of the interviews she was invited to would revolve around her relationship with andy. i’m choosing to let this feeling pass for now, since it’s not my focus today.)

i couldn’t help but start by saying all this since i truly adore andy’s works, and nothing feels warmer than realizing two amazing people are in love and have a family together by choice.

i mean..... ??????? c’mon. greatest couple alive. try and fight me on this.

another interesting thing i found out was that she dislikes streaming platforms similar to spotify, which probably (?) justifies the fact that i never came across her songs, since i use spotify on a daily basis and have been using it to find new artists for the last years. call me ignorant, it’s fine, truly; but i haven’t heard of similar opinions coming from artists, and it made me even more curious to know what this woman was expressing, creating, thinking. she actually told larry king: 

“spotify is a business model. it’s not good. it’s based on the idea of circumventing the payment of artists. (...) i’m not opposed to streaming. i understand that the world is shifting and that the way music is valued and monetized is shifting, and i’m ok with that. and i’m even ok with people not paying for music (...), i just wish that there was a better way to do it that didn’t only pay a company. (...) i haven’t heard of one [alternative to spotify] that seems built the way that i would prefer it to be built.”

one of spotify owners (owners or directors, idek and idec) even replied to her many critics, but she never changed her mind or retreated from defending even her honest, harsh comments about how spotify is “like a villainous cabal of major labels”. for me, that’s a badass woman. not only for expressing herself without giving a damn about anyone who might be offended in this process, but also for choosing the path that felt ethical and worthy, and being recognized all over the world for her talent while following her own ways. i know, right? simply awesome.

there i was, reading the endless comments on her interviews’ videos and wondering what the fuss was all about. there was nothing left for me to do other than to actually start listening to her songs. i could have done it by looking up her discography and starting from her first project, but somehow i stomped into the ys album, which was released in 2006, in youtube itself.

first of all, would you look at this freaking cover?

i found it absolutely gorgeous in each detail; in fact, i really wish to know if there are meanings in the little specific parts of the painting. maybe there aren’t any and i’m just trying to create a more complex joanna in my mind? sure, sounds like me. or maybe there are lots of ‘em and she already said it on camera and i simply missed this video? sure, sounds possible. i won’t lie, i spent so much time thinking about this cover... maybe way too much time. alright, on we go.

there are 5 tracks on the album: emily, monkey & bear, sawdust and diamonds, only skin and cosmia.

at first, i didn’t quite understand what i was listening to. and i’m not talking about the lyrics, i’m talking about the whole idea of the album, the artist, the genre. the conjunction formed by her high pitches and soft, delicious vocal variations, surrounded lovingly by the harp and the violins was very mysterious to me. at first, i wouldn’t be encouraged to keep listening to her. but something kept me there, seated, staring at the screen and paying attention to each second of it. it was an experience. a real transportation. i searched for the lyrics on genius, and anyone that would pass by my bedroom’s open door would see me completely enamored by what i was listening to, like a concentrated kid being told an epic, adventurous, huge, beautiful and complex story. that is exactly how i felt: in the middle of a field, picturing each image she described in the song; each figure, each feeling. she described it all in a way that made me wonder how can someone describe a dream so vividly, how can someone describe anything so perfectly, so fully, and not sound redundant, not sound at all boring. the way the melody and the lyrics fit together, as a gift perfectly wrapped and tightly involved in the most beautiful way. i repeat: it was an experience. it is an experience. this is not something you can listen to at any given time, at any given place; i would not dare to not pay attention each time i would plan to listen to it. this is how seriously submerged i felt by joanna in that moment; in that entire day.

all of this, all of this immersion, all of this dream-like state in which i found myself in, kept growing its roots in me throughout the entire album, in a way i needed to show someone - anyone - joanna before i even got to finish the five songs; and the first one that came near me happened to be my mother. while listening, she actually found it quite pleasing, “like some old movie’s soundtrack” when listening to emily, “like an 1960′s melody” when listening to sawdust and sand, and on she went about the entire album. and this got me thinking about how i would describe her genre; of course, after following her on bandcamp i found out i was actually listening to some folk/pop/avant-garde/baroque pop/chamber folk/indie stuff. sounds about right, but at the same time not right at all, for some reason. i believe it’s fair to say that joanna has a magical, rare quality to her music that makes it different to each one listening to it. i’ve said it too much and i’ll say it again: it’s an experience, a complete, true one. it ressonates with deep, personal places. and, strangely, it makes many people describe the feeling that urges to grow inside their hearts as “home”; and i share this exact same sensation.

i really don’t know if it makes any sense, but see: i cherish my alone time probably more than anything in the world. i have learned to be my own best friend in many ways, and being by myself in some quiet days, at my house, reading, listening, watching and creating is when i can truly be myself. with that said, listening to this album, i felt at home. it made me feel even more alone, and i mean it in the most loving, warm, hypnotizing way. 

the ys album is a relatively quick production to be heard, even though it feels like you’ve been gone for hours, days, weeks on end while listening to it. the amount of literary, historic and philosofical references in the lyrics is magically overwhelming; i simply wasn’t able to snap out of it for a long time, and i have, to this day, re-listened to the album about 5 times. still reading the lyrics again and again, still grasping at some expressions faintly but amazed, still finding out about hidden and not so hidden meanings behind each track. still defining it, every single day.

i hope for the great discoveries i feel like pursuing from her work, and the diverse new singers, song-writers, harpists, pianists, violinists, chellists and musicists in general i’ll try to find, understand and support from now on. i’m thankful for finding out how much i love the mix between an orchestra-like atmosphere and a sweet, honest voice ringing in my ears; and how the words assembled together feels like a psychography.

i thank the universe every single day for the opportunity to discover people like joanna newsom.