#i was up at 3am crying . then felt hopeless. still do. but we have to keep going and fighting. i don't know how. but we will

[seraphiism]

hello. long time no see. i love you all ( except if you voted for trump ). i am here for you and i see you and i am supporting you. take a step back, stay off social media if you need to. create something with your hands. doesn't matter if it's not good, doesn't matter if it's shitty, it's fine because it's yours and proof of your existence. you are here and you are breathing and you matter. you always will. stay safe, you are loved. you have to live.

[jasiemint]

Scaramouche Imagine~

when you suddenly fell asleep that he comes into your consciousness

theme: fluff (?), very cute and heartwarming, warning might make you cry, may contain sensitive topics, not proofread

on a serious note, this is crack LMFAO you have been warned.

It was very late at night. You can't fall asleep and there are two reasons for such: the stampede of thoughts in your head and the cruel stomachache. You opened your eyes, giving up on trying to fall asleep. Right arm making its way out of the blankets, reaching out for the top of your wooden bedside cabinet as you get your phone. You turned it on and saw the time. 3:27am. You have been laying down, tossing and turning, ever since it was 11. The situation looked deem, hopeless, yet confusing.

Suddenly, you again felt a sharp pain in your stomach. This has happened multiple times this night. In your head, sleep would have made it disappear, but it seems that sleep is nowhere near. You recalled what your great yet Lesser Lord Kusanali once quoted - "use the bathroom and flush your anxiety dookie away~". As you cannot help it anymore, you stood up and walked towards the bathroom.

You took a shit, and oh boy was it hard to push it out. It was like you had to muster all your strength and courage for this very hour, for this divine event. Oh? But all of a sudden, pitch black filled your vision. One second, your eyelids felt so heavy and now, you are finally in deep slumber. Who would have thought that perhaps changing your bed to a toilet can help.

Supposedly you are in a deep sleep where your mind is at peace and you do not have to think or do anything. But what is this strange feeling? As if your soul had been transported back to reality but far away from it as well. It cannot be explained, but you just felt it. Is this what happens when you become in touch with your own consciousness? Slowly coming to your senses, your once bowing head turned upwards. Shocked, you saw the face of The Balladeer staring at you. What are those in his eyes? That purple electrifying look. no. There is more to it. You looked deeper and you saw something you did not expect - mercy. Pity.

He then held your hand, and as if your consciousness is in fact connecting with reality in some way, you were finally able to release that one last tiny hard piece of poopoo you have been struggling to get out. You cried tears of joy and worshipped the one who had held your hand. Scaramouche, satisfied with his help, laughed with a sprinkle of both genuine relief and degradation. "Mortals... A very simple task yet you still need me to succeed. How laughable."

You completely woke up from your consciousness. Now unable to see Scaramouche, you felt sad. But no matter. It was a pleasure and honor already to see him, and hell, even held your hand. You don't know if he can hear you, but you wanted to express gratitude. You cried and screamed plenty of thanks and continuously did this as you wash and wipe your business away.

The neighbors, who were sleeping tight, woke up to your screams. They filed a complaint to the village owner of where you are residing. When they came to talk to you, you preached of how great Lord Scaramouche is. They all looked at you weirdly - "Do we need medical help?". They kept trying to know into your sense that Scaramouche is but a fictional character and that you need to touch grass. Yet you refused. You feel and know that you are in the right. Just like any follower, you defended your new god with all your might. You also know that no, you do not need to touch grass.

Unless you spent precious time reading all of this. Then maybe you do. Don't you have something to do in life? Are you okay? Touch grass, please.

Fear not, however, for I will come with you. After all, I spent 30 minutes writing all this down. Maybe, just maybe, we all need to seek help.

Oh, and to summarize all of this... You know what you just read?

A story about you taking a shit at 3am and being so tired that you fell asleep. But then Scaramouche went in your consciousness. You were crying deep inside so he pitied you and helped you release that one tiny hard last piece of poopoo then you woke up and thanked him in a very loud manner that the neighbors, cops, and doctors had to be involved. Did you get the therapy you need? Idk man, you tell me

[ivyyreid]

pain: gone, gone

description: reader escapes from abductor.

category: fluff

warnings: mention of wounds, blood, and sexual assault

masterlist

the cold breeze blows your already tangled hair. your vision blurs at the edges, and your long t-shirt provides little warmth.

you have been running for what feels like years. you know you lost him, but you have to keep going.

you have no idea where you are. the only visual recognition you have of the small, quiet town is a starbucks. but it’s closed, like everything else. and even if it was open, you wouldn’t be allowed to go in looking the way you do.

you wear nothing but your underclothes and a long t-shirt. your hair is a knotted mess, and your eyes are wild and large. cuts and bruises decorate you’re body, and blood covers any exposed skin. the only place where the blood isn’t present are your cheeks, where tears pushed the blood away.

you have no idea what time it is, only the understanding that it’s late. the sky’s dark, and everything’s closed. if you’re vision and head would stop spinning, you would have been able to guess that it was about 3am, based on the position of the moon in the sky.

your breath is ragged as you search for an open shop, anywhere to get help.

the night and fog seems to swallow you. you don’t have time to wait around for morning. you are about to give up, curl into a ball and wish for death because you should have died weeks ago, but then you see a red beacon of hope.

a telephone booth.

seven weeks and seven hours earlier.

the moonlight casts an eerie glow on the corn maze. you hold your gun out in front of you, your flashlight under it. 

your breath creates small clouds, and the stalks of corn rustle as you prowl through them.

the unsub abducts women in their twenties, sexually abuses them, and tortures them in a variety of ways, all over a span of one to two weeks. and you and the team have tracked him to this small farmhouse. it’s not where he performs the murders, but it’s where he resides.

you lost spencer a few minutes when he took a different turn, but you’re confident in your ability to take down the unsub alone.

a rustling in the distance catches your attention. your body tenses, and you slowly and silently follow the sound. you hold your flashlight out, keeping your hand steady as you turn a corner, two fingers on the trigger of the gun.

but in the next few seconds, your gun will do you no good.

because as you turn the corner, your head collides with cold metal. and you collapse.

present day.

your shakily dial the number etched into your brain. it takes a few tries, because your hands are wobbly and stiff, but the phone eventually begins to ring.

and it rings.

and rings.

and then stops.

“hello, this is penelope garcia, technical analyst for the behavioral analysis unit of the fbi, how can i assist you?”

and the familiar voice clogs your throat. a tear spills from your eyes.

“hello, how can i assist you”

and for the first time in weeks your lips part and almost form a smile.

“hello, is anyone there?”

and you try and control your breathing, try and talk.

“p-p-penel...penelope.” you breathe, your voice hoarse and scratchy from the weeks of silence, and little water.

“oh my god! oh my god! y/n!” she gasps, and you can hear her voice break. but you know she’s happy.

“penel- penelope....please” you choke out, collapsing against the wall of the booth due to exhaustion.

“hold on y/n, i’m locating you.” you hear frantic typing, and penelope speaks again. “we were so worried, we thought you were... we’ve been trying to find you, i can’t believe it’s you!”

they thought i was dead. and the funny thing is, you think you were too. you felt dead. after weeks of laying in a small cell, being repeatedly violated and tortured, you started to feel dead.

“ok y/n, i have your location. we’ll be there as soon as we can. i’m going to hang up now, please be safe”

two-thousand, five-hundred eighty-five miles away.

the team, minus you, sits in the briefing room. sloppy outfits, eye bags, and a hopeless expression is one thing they all share. the common denominator.

everyone has dressed in dark tones, even garcia, like you’re already dead, and they’re attending one big, long funeral.

at first, garcia tried to keep up her usual quirky, colorful outfits, but after two weeks, it started to become hard.

in the past seven weeks, most of the teams time has been spent in the briefing room, looking over files and trying to find leads. the case was closed after a month of silence from the unsub, but the team is still desperately trying to find you.

emily is about to share an idea about where you could be (that is rather far-fetched) but garcia swiftly enters the room.

everyone knows what the wide smile on her face means.

back to y/n.

you’ve been on the phone with garcia for an hour. she says the team is coming. she says you’re in gabbs, nevada.

now she says they’ll be within 200 yards of you in 5 minutes.

the breath leaves your body.

seven weeks. seven weeks with seeing no one but your abuser.

and now your team is coming. your friends are coming to save you.

a few tears slip out of your eyes, and you look at the sky as a joyful sob leaves your body.

“you’re going to be ok, y/n” penelope says.

the sound of speeding vehicles fills your ears. the quiet that you’ve grown accustomed to is gone, replaced with the sounds of your saviors.

you drop the phone, leaving it dangling from the cord, and rush out of the telephone booth into the street. about two-hundred yards away, you see a black suv pull over, and a group of people get out.

your friends.

“i’m here....help!” you try to yell, but it comes out hoarsely, and quiet.

they don’t see you.

but then, someone turns.

a tall, skinny figure. with a mess of brown hair.

and he stands there, shocked.

you run toward him, limping slightly.

“spencer,” you cry, and he runs toward you.

you crash into him, and he pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead. he’s calling the team on his radio, and he’s crying, and he’s blaming himself, and your tears are mixing, but you don’t feel dead anymore. you’re going to be ok.

you and spencer are silent. just embracing each other, and crying.

the rest of the team comes, followed by an ambulance. emily’s and jj’s and derek’s and hotch’s and rossi’s voices all mix, but the only voice you notice is spencer.

“i thought i lost you,” he says, resting his head on mine. i shake my head feebly, my tears blurring my vision.

“i love you,” he whispers into my head, and i feel my heart stop.

he loves me. and i love him.

he

loves 

me

loves 

him

“i love you too.”

[cotton-tails]

So I saw this last night, and the little angsty plot bunny in my head woke up and I just had to write something. Fully intended to be a drabble of sorts, but of course it turned into a four page tear-fest, so grab the tissues and strap in.

Oh, and I haven't edited this, it's just 3am word-vomit, so enjoy the mess!

-

“So, this hasn’t exactly gone to plan.”

Della snorts cheerlessly at Donald’s deadpan comment, struggling into a sitting position and wincing at a twinge in her elbow. The chains dig into her arms with every movement, a very clear upgrade from the ropes they’d all been able to break out of within several minutes not too long ago. These idiots don’t know who they’re messing with.

Or they do; probably a little too well, hence the plan that fell apart very quickly. And the chains. And the scary looking red lightning below them.

“Shut up!” Heron snaps behind them, cuffing Donald a little too roughly around the head.

He doesn’t react more than a sharp hiss and a dark glare behind him, and Della can’t help the sharp pang of guilt under the surge of anger. She bites back a comment, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground until the villain is out of earshot.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, keeping her voice low.

“What? Why?” Donald sounds confused but she can’t bring herself to look at him.

“You should be with Daisy right now,” she says, “I’m the one who guilted you into staying, into coming on this stupid trip. And now we’re facing the very real possibility of dying.”

Donald is quiet.

Forcing herself to look up, she frowns at the look on his face. He still doesn’t say anything, but the expression says it all; ‘Della-you-absolute-idiot-what-are-you-blathering-on-about?’

“I came on this stupid trip cause our kids were in trouble,” he hisses eventually, “my family were in trouble! You think I wouldn’t ditch my vacation in a heartbeat for any of you?”

“I-” Della starts, but her voice catches, rendering her utterly speechless. He’s not lying, she knows exactly what he would do for the family, for her. Yet, somehow that knowledge isn’t exactly helping.

She misses her chance to reply, all conversation cut off with the explosive arrival of Scrooge and Bradford through the roof.

Della clenches her fist and almost bites through the inside of her cheek as he slams to the ground. She manages to chime out a ‘Hey Uncle Scrooge,’ with Donald when his pained gaze finds them. Beakley mutters a sarcastic ‘Fantastic,’ from her other side. She can only watch as a now armoured Bradford, armed with the sword, picks him up by the back of his coat and drags him up the stairs. He’s blathering on about something, but she’s stopped listening; too busy focusing on her battered and beaten uncle and how this could have gone so completely and utterly wrong.

It’s the usual spiel anyway, threats to destroy his family, his adventures, everything he had worked for, blah blah blah.

Then the contract is revealed, and her stomach drops to somewhere around her knees. If they don’t find a way out soon, Scrooge will have to either sign his life away or they all die, and frankly, neither option sound particularly appealing.

It’s only when Bradford sacrifices his own agents that the desperateness of the situation really sinks in. It’s one thing to talk about murder, it’s entirely another to actually do it. And if Bradford is willing to throw away his own agents, Della can’t imagine what he would be willing to do to her family if Scrooge doesn’t sign.

He tries to buy some time. Della can almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out how to get out of this one. She huffs out a half-hearted laugh at the sharp quip about the fine-print. He’d figure something out, he always does. Not to mention the kids are bound to have found a way out by now, they’d pick up the rest of their allies and be on their way to disrupt the whole evil plan.

It’s just a matter of-

“Ugh! Enough stalling!”

Never mind.

“You need some incentive.”

Della does not like where this is going.

“Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

The three of them snap their heads forward as Bradford stalks towards them, sword dragging on the concrete threateningly. As the screeching rings in Della’s ears, the only thought racing through her mind is ‘not Donnie, not Donnie, please, don’t take my brother.’

Her heart almost stops when he scoops Donald up by his collar, his cry echoing in her ears.

“Donald!” Three voices scream.

She can barely breathe, crippling panic bubbling up inside. All she wants to do is close her eyes and scream, break these chains and drag him back to safety, but she can’t move, she can’t take her eyes off her twin as he’s dangled over the edge.

“What will it be Scrooge? Adventure? Or your Family?”

‘Just do what he wants!’ She’s not ashamed of the thought. They’ll figure out a way to reverse the contract, there’s always a way, always a loophole. Just do it so she can see her brother safely on solid ground.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

She can’t say she’s surprised at how quickly he gives in.

“No! Don’t!” Donald screams, “find a way out! You can beat him!”

The pen is already in his hand. “It’s not worth the risk lad.”

They can only watch in horror at the golden glow that circles around him, lifting him up and binding him with unbreakable chains that drag him to the ground.

“I did it!” Bradford crows triumphantly. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Della’s heart breaks just a little at the look of absolute misery on her old uncle’s face, but she doesn’t have time to mourn properly, because Bradford is talking. Again.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in such petty villainy,” he says, his gaze turning back to Donald, still dangling over the edge, with a glint in his eye that makes Della’s blood run cold. “But since this is a special occasion.”

He lets go.

Della’s eyes meet Donald’s for an agonising second, and then he’s gone.

There’s a flash of red, and someone is screaming.

She doesn’t even realise it’s her until a rough hand knocks her back.

“Shut it! Or it’ll be you next!”

Hot tears stream down her beak and she presses her forehead into the cold concrete, not even bothering to choke back a sob. Over the pounding of her own taunting heartbeat in her ears, she hears the sound of the machine powering down (‘Too late’ her traitorous mind provides), of her kids voices yelling something, and Scrooge shouting for them to be careful.

And Bradford, confused and angry as her family finally, finally step in to save the day.

His voice sets off something inside that she hadn’t felt since the day Lunaris betrayed her. A raging anger that burns through her, overwhelming any other emotion and completely taking over her mind.

The chains are no longer an obstacle, and even Beakley can’t stop her from launching herself at the buzzard. They tumble down the stairs, fists flying and feet kicking. Everything blurs after that, which may or may not be a side effect of a rather painful bump on the head as they hit the ground at the bottom of the staircase. She’s kicked off, then it’s just a cloud of lights and bodies and a strong arm holding her back from doing anything overly-reckless and potentially stupid.

The kids, her (their) beautiful, wonderful kids, figure out the loophole and the ever-binding contract disintegrates.

It’s done.

The maniacal villain is defeated once more. The world has returned to rights and the sounds of celebration fill the air.

But Della can only stand and watch, her hands trembling and eyes burning. Beakley stands behind her, hands hovering just behind her shoulders, ready to give comfort if needed.

He’s gone.

Her brother, the other half of her soul; just… gone.

And… oh.

Her knees buckle, a wrecked sob forcing its way from her throat. Beakley catches her with a arm round the shoulders and a hand under her elbow, lowering her gently to the ground as she crumples into a ball. She presses her hands to her eyes in a hopeless attempt to stem the tears as everything comes crashing down.

“It’s okay, let it out dear.”

He shouldn’t have been here. He should’ve been on that amazing adventure with Daisy, sailing together on that old houseboat. After everything life had thrown at him, after all the madness they’d been through, he’d finally caught a break, finally found that amazing person who loved him as fiercely as he loved her.

Then Della had come along, crying about lost time and not being ready. She hadn’t wanted to him to leave, even on a stupid vacation that he would very clearly be coming back from.

Now he wouldn’t even get the chance to go.

And it’s all her fault.

“Mom?”

The obvious confusion and concern in Huey’s voice is enough to send her tumbling over the edge all over again, fresh tears springing up at the thought of having to explain what happened to her- to his kids.

Scrooge hurries them away, and she tries not to listen to the hushed explanation, the startled gasps, and she has to cover her ears for the rest. She can’t stand it.

It’s all her fault.

“DELLA!”

‘What?’

There’s no mistaking that voice.

Her head snaps up so fast she’s half sure she’s given herself whiplash. Even through blurred eyesight, she knows that silhouette, that outfit, that stupid hat. She blinks, sniffing and scrubbing at her face with her sleeve, hardly daring to believe.

It shouldn’t be possible, there’s no way it’s possible. She saw it, she saw him fall, saw the flash of lightning, the empty space where he had been only moments before. She watched her own brother die. So how was he standing ten feet in front of her, laughing as he’s tackled by several small and colourful blurs?

A hand appears in front of her face and she looks up into the stunned face of her uncle. He looks almost as much of a mess as she feels, tearstains tracking down his cheeks and spotting on his coat.

“I think it might be best if we just don’t question it,” he says, helping her to her feet.

His hands are shaking as he holds hers tightly, but she doesn’t comment; it can’t be any worse than her own trembling limbs. They turn back to Donald, who’s ended up sat on the floor under the collective weight of the kids. He’s got a tearful Louie on his shoulder and several kids wrapped around his torso as he struggles to his feet, and Della can see him mouthing a headcount as he takes them all in.

“I swear every time we see you, you have more children.”

She hadn’t even noticed Panchito and José just beside him, grins wide and eyes twinkling with amusement and, in José’s case, something else that she can’t quite place. Donald just laughs at Panchito’s observation, the sound sweet as honey and causing even more tears to well up all round. The pure relief that sweeps through her is almost enough to make her knees give way again, but Scrooge’s hand gripping hers and Beakley’s arm still around her shoulders is just enough to keep her grounded.

Then he catches her eye.

“Hey Dells.”

The kids must see something in her face, cause they have to good sense to dart out of the way just moments before Della hurls herself at her brother. They almost topple backwards, but Donald is able to keep them just about upright while Della just focuses on wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. His arms circle her waist, holding her just as tightly. The tears are streaming freely now, but she’s beyond caring. He can yell at her about ruining his shirt later and she’ll just take it with a grin.

“You idiot!” she yells, her voice muffled by his shoulder, “I thought you were dead!”

“For a minute, so did I,” he says into her hair, “how about we just call it even?”

The soft jibe only makes her laugh, and she holds him just that little bit tighter.

Miracles do happen, and in the end all that matters is love, family and adventure.

But if he thinks she’s going to let him go galivanting off on some adventure without her now, then he’d better think again.

[machinegunbun]

Is there gonna be a third part for Deserved It🥺

Deserve You+#

Word count:1.7k

A/N: Everyone say thank youu anon for reminding me lmaoo. This was supposed to be posted tomorrow but I got excited soo

“Pete, please just let me explain.” You whimpered, your voice and spirit growing weak. It felt hopeless, like maybe you really had lost him for good.

Your fist knocked lightly against the wood of the hotel room door, the sound reverberating down the silent hallway.  Anxiety filled you, this wasn’t your first time knocking. You had been here for fifteen minutes and were completely unsuccessful so far.

You were pleasantly surprised when you heard fumbling from inside, not expecting them to answer. When the door swung open you were met with the sight of Colson towering over you, an unimpressed glare being shot your way

“He can’t hear you, he’s in the shower. Now stop, you’re pissing me off.”

“Please.”

“What do you want?” The question was more of a statement, letting you talk only to get you to leave.

“Is he okay?” You ask, sniffling.

“What the fuck do you think?” 

“Please, I just wanna make it better.“ You plead

“Then go the fuck home.” He replies, shutting the door halfway before opening it again “And stop fucking knocking.” He adds, shutting the door in your face. Sighing, your back slides down the door, admitting defeat.

As you sat in the all too quiet hallway you found yourself wondering if maybe it meant more than you would like to admit. Maybe Colson was right, would you have kissed Shawn if he had never walked in? Would you have even ever told Pete if you did? Would you even regret it?

Tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought. Who were you kidding? Of course you’d regret it, who cares what everyone else thinks? You knew better than anyone that leaving Pete for Shawn would be the downgrade of a lifetime, and the fact that people based the opposite assumption purely over their own ideals of beauty was fucked up. Pete treated you better than Shawn ever did, he made you feel more than Shawn ever could. He made you a better person, you couldn’t believe your judgement had lapsed that badly, even for so much as a second.

Your head knocked against the door twice, trying to bang the anxious thoughts directly from their source, before the door swung open, the tall blonde giving you a single disapproving look when he spotted you on the floor.

“Is it the pizza?” You could hear Pete ask from inside. Right, you hadn’t gotten the chance to eat dinner

“Nah, it’s just Rook. I’ll be right back, you got the door for me?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Pete replied, his voice hoarse. You could only imagine he’d been crying.

You glanced up at Colson from your place on the floor, embarrassed.

“Just let me talk to him.”

“No.”

“He's not a baby, he doesn't need you to protect him.” You mumble

“No, but he cares about you.  A lot. A-fucking-lot a lot, and I know if I let him out here and he sees you crying he’ll run right back into your arms.” 

“I just wanna see him. I hurt him and it's killing me to know I can't hold him and make him feel better. I just wanna hold him.” You say, your voice cracking.

“Why don’t you just leave him alone and call Shawn instead so he can cheat on you again and you can go on another fucking bender and pretend like theres something interesting about your life.”

“Fuck you.” You retort, although you know his anger is the only reason for his words

“Fuck you too, (Y/N). Who took care of you after you went on your little fucking bender? Pete. Who helped you through the breakup? Pete. Who was with you when you felt like the whole world hated you even though you did nothing wrong? Pete. Who was there for you, romantic or not, whenever you needed him? Pete.If you really want to apologize you need to wipe those fucking tears, take a breath, clean yourself up, and fucking apologize without guilting him into saying its okay.”

“Okay, Okay. I’m not Casie.”

“Damn right you’re not, cause my daughter would’ve never pulled this dumb shit in the first place. And get off the fucking floor, you look pathetic.” He scolds, watching as you stand up, still almost a foot shorter than him. Colson turns around, pushing the door open as it was only half shut. You peer inside, trying to catch sight of Pete, but seeing only a piece of the hallway.

You remained on the floor, not daring to knock once again out of fear Colson might call security on you.

Your head ticked up curiously when you heard someone walking down the hallway, looking up to see Rook making his way towards you. Glancing down at you, he knocked, waiting for a moment before Colson was walking out of the door. Colson looked down at you as well, mild disgust gracing his features before he was walking down the hallway alongside Rook, the two boys disappearing into the elevator.

Pete walked out five minutes later, hoping you hadn’t given up and left. His eyes lit up when he saw you, first reaction being to fix the pout that was stamped on your face.

“Oooh, you got in trouble.” Pete teases, shutting the door behind himself and taking a seat next to you on the carpeted floor, not entirely caring that it was dirty as long as you were right down there with him.

“You heard?”

“It’s a hotel door, not a soundproof barrier.” He jokes, looking at you “Yeah, I heard everything. Listen, he shouldn’t have said any of that to you. He was angry, that’s all.”

“Don’t defend me.” You reply, looking over to meet his eyes. Pete purses his lips, his eyes filling with tears

“I’m always gonna defend you.” He says, his eyes leaving yours as he does, landing on the floor instead. The tone of his words are less reassuring and more disappointed. You thought for a moment he would cry, but he didn’t. His hand never even so much as came up to wipe his tears. Another brief silence fell over you, one more and you think you’d rip your hair out. You were unsure if you should wrap your arms around him the way you wanted to, the last thing you wanted to do was manipulate him into telling you what you did wasn’t a problem.

“I get it.” Pete says, breaking the silence.

“What?” You ask, your voice surprising even you in the midst of such stillness,  feeling foreign and unlike your own

“I get if you want to be with him,” Your eyes meet once again as he says this “I won’t hate you.” He assures, his lips pushing together in a sad, half smile. You stared at him, examining his features and what you had done to him, but in Pete’s mind you were weighing out your options, and everytime Shawn came out on top. He was so caught up in his own mind he almost didn’t catch it when you began shaking your head.

“Oh thank god, cause he’s back at our place right now and we fucked on our bed-” Pete’s head tilted down in disappointment, focusing on his tattooed fingers. You laughed, punching his arm lightly “No, I want you dummy. Why else would I be humiliating myself by crying in a la quinta hallway. What's up with that, by the way? Colson doesn’t have the money to put you up somewhere better? You just got your heart broken.” Pete cracked a smile, his gaze shifting up to the door.

“I know the breakup was hard for you, and everything after it too. I guess I can understand just wanting something before it felt like the world turned it’s back to you.”

“No. I don’t want that, I don’t want Shawn. Sappy love songs, extravagant vacations, waking up early to exercise, flirting publicly as fan service, the perfect family-”

“Okay, okay we get it. He has a dad.” He laughs  “Stop rubbing it in.”

“And actually nice hotels, seriously what the fuck is this.” You laughed, your heart swelling with love when you managed to make Pete smile “It’s just not who I am anymore. I’m late nights watching TV, laughing by the fridge when we get up at 3am to make snacks cause we have the munchies. I'm sitting in your backyard with you, your mom and your sister while we eat dinner and breathe the fresh air and look at the stars. I’m going on walks cause we’re depressed and need the sun to convince us we’re okay again. You changed me in the best ways, baby. I don’t want anything else.” You stared at the ceiling, vivid images flashing through your mind, thinking who you are now is so much more beautiful than who you were then.

You hadn’t even realized Pete was crying until he sniffled, your gaze drifting back over to him, the sight breaking your heart.

“Fucking lame.” He replies, both of his hands coming up to wipe his eyes, his sweatshirt pulled over his hands. You reach over, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your grasp. Laying there in peaceful silence, you find yourself running your hands through his hair, inhaling his scent and letting his body warm your own. You felt yourself calm down for the first time tonight with him in your arms.

The moment was broken as someone exited their hotel room, glancing down at the two of you on the floor before making their way to the pool, towel flung over their shoulder. Pete and you shared a look of amusement as he walked away, stifling your laughter until he made it to the elevator.

“Come on, let's go inside.” He says, trying the doorknob. There’s a thump sound as it moves a bit and stops, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before giving it another try. You tilted your head, looking at the doorknob and to Pete as a look of realization overtook his features.

“I forgot my key.” He sucks his teeth, shaking his head as you laugh from your place on the floor.

[iamlyne]

from someone whose confidence and boundaries could use a lot of work - here’s a few reasons why halsey’s music is so important to me:

- you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece, and now you’re tearing through the pages and the ink

- and i’m still waking every morning, but it’s not with you

- do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?!

- all of control

- already choking on my pride, so there’s no use crying about it

- if you wanna break these walls down, you’re gonna get bruised

- i’m a wanderess, i’m a one night stand, don’t belong to no city don’t belong to no man, i’m the violence in the pouring rain, i’m a hurricane

- and i found myself reminded to keep you far away from me

- and i’ve been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool for a while now, drowning my thoughts out with the sounds

- BUT I DON’T HAVE TO FUCKING TELL THEM ANYTHING, ANYTHING !!!

- and i’m gon’ write it all down and i’m gon’ sing it on stage, but I DON’T HAVE TO FUCKING TELL YOU ANYTHING, ANYTHING !!!!!

- and i’ve tried to wash you away but you just won’t leave

- and i promised myself i wouldn’t let you complete me

- all we do is think about the feelings that we hide

- all we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign

- they can break our hearts, they won’t take our souls

- i’m finding it hard to leave

- all of 100 Letters but especially I DON’T LET HIM TOUCH ME ANYMORE

- baby as soon as you meet me, you’ll wish that you never did

- every SINGLE word in sorry

- don’t trust the moon, she’s always changing

- perhaps hopeless isn’t a place, nothing but a state of mind

- i ain’t your baby no more

- look, i don’t mean to frustrate, but i always make the same mistakes

- MOTHERFUCKER, DON’T PLAY WITH ME

- women! don’t! play! no! games!

- ANGEL ON FIRE i repeat ANGEL ON FIRE

- DEVIL IN ME i repeat DEVIL IN ME (“but i scream too loud if i speak my mind - WHO JUST WRITES THAT?!)

- cause you know the truth hurts but secrets kill // cause you know the good die young, but so did this

- i hope hopeless changes over time

- all of ashley

- and every second of clementine

- IT’S FUNNY HOW THE WARNING SIGNS CAN FEEL LIKE THEY’RE BUTTERFLIES

- and i had no warning about who you are

- i spent a long time watering a plant made out of plastic and i cursed the ground for growing green

- i spent a long time substituting honest with sarcastic and i cursed my tongue for being mean

- CAUSE I COULD NEVER HOLD A PERFECT THING AND NOT DEMOLISH IT

- HOW COULD SOMEBODY EVER LOVE ME ???!!!

- there’s power in the words you’re thinking

- I HATE EVERYBODY and i’ll say it again for the people in the back I HATE EVERYBODY

- 3AM // specifically // i’m reckless, treat it like a necklace, take a different version and i try it on for size with everybody that i know and WILL YOU PLEASE PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE

- without me is for the people pleaser in me that’s constantly being used because i have shit boundaries and it’s so special to me

- beautiful strangers only come around to do me wrong

- CAUSE HE IS SHE IS HER AND HER AND HE ARE LOVE AND I HAVE NEVER FELT THE DIFFERENCE !!! TIRED OF ALL THESE LABELS

- told me pick my battles and be picking ‘em wise BUT I WANNA PICK ‘EM ALL AND I DON’T WANNA DECIDE

- and i’m not breaking, i won’t take it, AND I WON’T EVER FEEL THIS WAY AGAIN

- all i want in return is revenge, cause i don’t need you anymore

- i’ve been trying all my life to separate the time, in between the having it all and giving it up // i wonder what’s in store if i don’t love it anymore

- coming apart at the seams and no one around me knows

- pre-chorus and chorus of still learning

- i should be living the dream, but i go home and i got no self-esteem

- 929 (for a song that wasn’t written about me, i relate a little too much)

- i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do, i hope you dream of me

- i know you’re chokin’ on your fears, already told you i’m right here

- you can be kind to the one that you love (even if YOU’RE the one that you love/are trying to love)

- SO TAKE WHAT YOU WANT, TAKE WHAT YOU CAN, TAKE WHAT YOU PLEASE, DON’T GIVE A DAMN !!! ASK FOR FORGIVENESS NEVER PERMISSION

- she smiles back, but it’s a fact that her fear will eat her alive

- you can’t take it back, it’s good as gone. well, flesh amnesiac this is your song. and i hope what’s left will last all summer long, and they said that boys were boys but they were wrooooonnnnnnggggg

- don’t call me by my name, all of this is temporary, watch as i slip away for your sake

- better off dead so i reckon i’m headed to hell instead

- jesus needed a three day weekend to sort out all his bullshit

- don’t wait for me, it’s not a happy ending

- ALL OF THIS IS TEMPORARY

- EASIER THAN LYING EASIER THAN LYING EASIER THAN LYING // LOSING YOU IS EASIER THAN LYING TO MYSELF THAT YOU LOVE ME!!!!

- i romanticize and then i get to stressin’

- tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve and change like a season, reason for nothin

- CHORUS of Lilith

- now i’m wonderin if i ever wanted to hold you???

- the more that you give away, the more that you have, the more that they take

- no, i’m not your daydream, i won’t have your baby

- i feel better when the boys stop calling

- i keep waiting for luck to come swallow me up

-you asked for this hits every fucking time

- really can’t remember where i left my spine, hidden in the pages of the new york times at home and maybe i’ll be better if i take my meds, ain’t a double header if you lose your head

- all the little flowers gave me something to believe in

- bridge of darling gives me a lot of hope for better days ahead

- and i won’t die for love

- you shoot for the memory, so you can forget me, I’D LEAVE IF YOU LET ME

- SHE’S HELL IN A BASKET JUST MAKING A RACKET I LOVE EVERY SECOND IT’S FUCKING FANTASTIC

-you sabotage the things you love the most, camouflage so you can feed the lie that you’re composed

- YOU DO NOT WANT THIS

- why do you need love so badly?

- i’ve got a monster inside me that eats personality types, she’s constantly changing her mind on the daily

- THESE ARE THE STANDARDS TO WHICH YOU COULD HOLD ME

- I AM NOT A WOMAN I’M A GOD, I AM NOT A MARTYR, I’M A PROBLEM, I AM NOT A LEGEND, I’M A FRAUD, KEEP YOUR HEART CAUSE I ALREADY GOT ONE

- maybe i could be a different human in a new place

-i’m better all alone

- maybe i could be a better human with a new name

- AND IT REALLY DOES HURT WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE

- the (motherfuckin) lighthouse // FROM A TENDER AGE I WAS CURSED WITH RAGE // CAUSE I NEVER WANTED SAVING I JUST WANTED TO BE FOUND // AND I’M GLAD I MET THE DEVIL CAUSE HE SHOWED ME I WAS WEAK AND A LITTLE PIECE OF HIM IS IN A LITTLE PIECE OF ME

- PEOPLE DISAPPEAR HERE

- all of nightmare, every second

- I DON’T OWE YOU A GODDAMN THING

- CAUSE KINDNESS IS WEAKNESS OR WORSE YOU’RE COMPLACENT

- I’M TIRED AND ANGRY BUT SOMEBODY SHOULD BE

- grew into a savage and that’s why they gave this verse to me

- I SOLD FIFTEEN MILLION COPIES OF A BREAKUP NOTE

- i don’t play anymore, i went through your phone and called the GIRLS IN YOUR DMS AND TOOK ALL THEM HOME

- i’m keeping you waiting but i won’t wait on you

- i’m already gone…

- you looking like you fell in love tonight, for pete’s sake, homie pull it together, we hooked up once it was kinda whatever

- cause i’m a mistake and we both could do better

- EXPERIMENT ON ME

- you burnt the witches now you’re defenseless, who needs a Y with this many Xs?

- darling who ya praying to, and is anybody answering you? cause i’ve done my part for 12 years now and i can’t seem to get through

- i’ve been sleeping in a bed too big for me, can’t remember what it’s like to get some sleep

just to name a few - but they have a way of putting my thoughts into words though she’s never met me 🖤

[antxfreeze]

it was you | jjh.

pairing: jung jaehyun x reader

summary: you and jaehyun liked each other ever since freshman year..but life has its own ways of pulling you guys apart 

word count: 2.6k

genre: angst... just angst

warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing... that's it!

How would you feel if it was you?

It was the last week of you being a college student. Yes. you were finally graduating and finally, you’re gonna be free of the drama. To celebrate, almost everyone graduating in your university was invited to Yuta's party. Yuta was your partner in your physics subject and you hooked him up with your best friend, Joy. Ever since then you would either third wheel with the two or join the other when they both needed company. 

When Yuta said everyone was going to be there, he literally meant everyone. You admit to yourself that the reason that you wanted to go to this party is to finally let go of the college scene. And who knows, you might get over him too. 

“Look who’s here!” Yuta greeted you as you entered the crowd “My girl y/n’s finally arrived!” He greeted you with a hug and quickly forced you to drink a shot of tequila.

“Yuta I just arrived there’s no need to rush” you told Yuta as he laughs at the sight of you denying the alcohol he just gave you. 

“By the way, where’s Joy?” 

“She’s with Irene and the girls. Want me to call her?” 

You wave your hands gesturing a ‘no’ then Yuta nodded and told you to just call him if you need something. ‘As if I can find him with all the people here’, you thought to yourself. 

Everyone was there, maybe including him. Of course he would be here.

You just arrived at the party but ever since then, your mind was swallowing all the possible thoughts of him being there in the party. And because of that you took every chance of drowning yourself with alcohol. Even the ones offered by strangers. Just to numb the feeling of possibly meeting him, and then making a fool out of yourself by spurting nonsense. 

You felt the alcohol slowly kicking in, you knew because you felt hot, as in fever like hot. And when Joy saw you dancing on the dance floor the first words that went out of her mouth were “Y/N why the fuck are you already drunk?”

Which made you answer “How the hell am I drunk?” the usual phrase drunk people actually say when they are drunk. 

Joy moved closer to you and cupped your face “Honey, are you doing this to numb the feeling of seeing him?” 

You laughed a bit at the way Joy was trying hard not to mention the name of the guy which caused you to act like this, to feel like this, to feel hopeless. 

“I like how you still don’t mention his name to keep me from remembering him” you tell Joy as the both of you just danced to the music. You were thankful that Joy understood you, understood the fact that you just needed someone to be with right now. Because if at any moment he shows up, you might lose your cool right then and there. 

“Y/n, I love you but please, please don’t get wasted again tonight.” Your best friend says as she cups your face again. “I will mom.” you replied and Joy tells you again to behave. But as much as you wanted to forget him, you also wanted for him to see you. See you losing your cool, or maybe see you flirting with someone because you knew he was always there to keep you away from doing those things.

But maybe now is different. 

Because he was nowhere to be found.

And maybe it was because he was with his girlfriend. 

You felt like crying just thinking about it, about him, about still looking for him amidst trying to forget about him. With these thoughts, you just felt like losing it all tonight. 

“Fuck it” you said aggressively. You left the dance floor and quickly filled your glass with tequila. You were never a fan of alcohol and maybe that was the reason why you had a low tolerance. But fuck it, cause tonight was the night you wanted to forget it all.

But maybe you were too late, because as you chug down the last few drops of tequila down your system, someone stopped you from getting any more, well, drunk. 

“What’s with ‘fuck it’?” He was standing right in front of you. That familiar figure and familiar voice. The figure you were looking for the whole night finally stopped you, finally saw you.

“Jung Jaehyun, what a surprise.” 

Jaehyun was surprised too. You were never the type of girl to get wasted on parties because you yourself knew that you had a low tolerance. Jaehyun always felt eager to take care of you in times like these, the initiative to sober you up and take care of you in parties was the role of Jaehyun in each and every party you went to. Because the reason why he went to those parties was because you were also there, and Jaehyun always wanted to be where you were.

But that was then, and the both of you were living in the now. 

 “Y/n, you know you have a low tolerance so why the hell are you drowning yourself in tequila?” You noticed Jaehyun’s tone getting a little bit impatient.

You were drunk, and that’s a fact. And when you’re drunk you spurt out nonsense “Why do you care am I your girlfriend?”

Those words felt like ice piercing through Jaehyun’s heart. But it was true, You weren’t his. 

Both of you were standing there, He was still holding your wrist while on the other hand you held your cup tightly, as if it was the something you needed to hold onto or else you’ll cry there in front of Jaehyun, the guy you love.

Jaehyun was just looking at you, observing you. Jaehyun does this every time he’s deep in thought. You knew because that was the reason you fell for him, just him looking at you, and you looking at him. It was enough to make you fall for him.

“Jaehyun you need to let go of me” It was a lie. You wanted him to hold you, at least for now.

“How would you feel if it was you?” Jaehyun says as he was still looking at you, looking for an obvious hint saying ‘yes’. 

You know for a fact that you couldn’t handle this kind of conversation, not at least because of the state you were in. “Jaehyun let go of me” you pleaded again.

“How would you feel if it was you, y/n” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Then it would’ve been fucking nice” you let go of his hold and took your drink with you as you chug the last few shots of tequila down your system. You walked out of Jaehyun’s sight hoping he wouldn’t follow you because now was the time you lost it.

Before you knew it you were a crying mess. You made your way out of the crowd and went out to the balcony to get some air to ease your mind. Once you were already outside, you cried. You didn’t care about the people who were there in the first place, you just wanted to cry as if letting them know that you needed to be alone in the balcony at that moment. 

You knew from the start that Jaehyun had actually liked you ever since then and you did too. You both hinted that you liked each other from the start but both of you never really talked. You knew he liked you because every time he would smile and talk with his friends he would look at you and smile too. You knew he liked you when he entertained you joining their club but he let you in for free instead of paying the org fee, cheesy, but after that incident he asked your number. You knew he liked you because he knocked at your apartment at 3am just to ask for advice on a project, but instead he took out a paper bag of pizza and chicken and told you “Jokes on you! I just wanted to watch this new movie with you”

Lastly, you knew he liked you simply because you knew. And for you, that was enough to believe that he liked you. 

“You know, back in freshman year…I…” Jaehyun paused for a bit, looking a bit flustered as he walked towards you. His whole face looked pained and worried, and red now that the alcohol was finally kicking in. 

You stare at him, allowing yourself to appreciate him in this type of angle where you could see him much clearly now that the both of you were outside and just staring out at the open. 

“You what?” you begin on asking, hoping to hear what you really wanted to hear from him.

He chuckled a bit “I should’ve let you pay for that club fee. Then maybe we had more funding for events back then.” He laughed, trying to lift the mood. And it worked because you laughed too. 

“So is it my fault then?” You replied while wiping your tears, in hopes that he didn’t really spectate you crying your heart out a little while ago. 

“No, I did it because I liked you.” 

The first thing you did was blink, and then blinked again. You felt like tearing up again, just because of the thought of him liking you. But you felt like crying because he had so many chances of saying it back then when it was easier, so why now? 

“Why is it so easy for you to say you like me now?”

You flashback on the time where Joy threw a party at her house. Again, almost everyone was there, Jaehyun was too. All of you began calling dibs on people you actually like, and other people wouldn’t touch those chosen already. You were hoping he’d pick you that day, he was hoping you’d pick him too. But things never go the way you really want to don’t they? 

“Because I already have Yeri.” Jaehyun says looking down. He didn’t want you to hear that. But maybe it was time both of you discussed this matter, even though things won’t go back to the way it was before.

“You called dibs on her.” you finally blurted out. It was hard for you to admit it, it's as if you were finally accepting the reality that he wasn’t yours, and you never called him ‘yours’ 

Yeri was your best friend and you were also shocked to find out she liked Jaehyun too. Because god no one knew how much you liked him. Yeri called dibs on Jaehyun that night while you were talking with Eunwoo in the kitchen. And when you got back, Jaehyun called dibs on Yeri.

“And you called dibs on Eunwoo.” he says, still looking down. That night was supposed to be the night he confessed to you. He already planned that after the party, he would walk you to your apartment and do the usual; watch movies while eating chicken and pizza, then finally, confess to you. 

Jaehyun knew Eunwoo had a thing for you, but he didn’t mind it because he also knew you liked him

You didn’t know how much Jaehyun liked you. He liked you to the point that he joined that club first because he found out how much you were interested in it. He liked you to the point that he would ask his friends whether you’ve already arrived inside the lecture hall, just so he could pretend he was laughing, but in reality he was just looking for reasons to smile at you, so you could smile back at him too. 

He liked you to the point that he genuinely loved you. 

But that night at Joy’s party, Yeri told him that Eunwoo was going to confess to you already, and that you wouldn’t mind dating him. He believed Yeri’s words because she was your best friend, and exactly at that moment, Eunwoo asked for your help in the kitchen. That was why maybe he believed that he didn’t stand a chance, or maybe he never did have a chance. That was why he picked Yeri. 

“Jaehyun, I've liked you since freshman year.” You couldn't help it anymore and lost it again. Jaehyun couldn't look at you, he hated to see you cry, especially when it was because of him.

“Y/n I liked you back then too.” Jaehyun says as he looks at you. He was looking at you with the same eyes you fell in love with, his caring voice, you loved him and all of him.

You looked at him ready to say something again and then he said

“and i still do.”

“You and Yeri lasted up until now, Jaehyun. How could you like me and her at the same time?”

It was hard to swallow the fact when he and Yeri got together, you spent nights thinking about what went wrong, why did he choose her and not you, when you were the obvious answer. Yeri and Jaehyun lasted for almost 2 years, and during that time, you and Jaehyun never got back to normal. 

“Because I needed her to forget you….. but I guess my plan failed since I still like you.”

You tried your best to not look at Jaehyun, to not let him know how much this was hurting you. Because even though the both of knew how much you loved each other, the time you spent apart from each other made you view him as nothing but a stranger again. 

There was silence and then finally he spoke again “God i want to kiss you" 

You couldn’t deny, you wanted him too. But Yeri was your best friend. No matter how much you wanted him, you wouldn't just cheat on your best friend.

“Jung fucking Jaehyun….” You took a sip from your cup and the both of you looked at each other again, both wanting each other's  presence. Not just now and for the rest of the night, you wanted him forever and you could tell he wanted the same too.

“I love you” Jaehyun is now facing towards you, even though how much he hates to see you cry, he felt as if this was the last time he'll ever get to confess his true feelings for you.

And you felt the same too.

“I really do.” you smiled and to your surprise, he was getting teary eyed too,because even though you were quiet, he knew the meaning of that quietness. 

"It's a starter for me seeing you cry Jae, you never cried when we watched The Notebook" you told him and tried your best to fake a laugh. 

He looked at you, then he smiled. The same smile you first saw back then. And maybe the reason why you truly loved Jaehyun was because of the fact he can make you happy just because his presence is enough to make you feel things. You can't escape the way of how much you loved him, even though you want to stop, you loved him and you just can't stop not to.

“I love you too, Jaehyun" you told him as you completely turned your back away from him, and as you were getting farther away, you lost it again. 

But it wasn't just you who was hurting, Jaehyun rarely cries but he did this time. He knew how much he hurt you and he hated himself for it. He knew that every tear you shed was a rain parade from hell, he hates the person you've became just because of him. 

The both of you knew how much you meant each other, but maybe at this moment, the both of you weren’t for each other. 

Maybe in another life, if the both of you were given an opportunity to meet and love again, you'll make sure to love him like it's always the end. Because you yourself know how much painful that feels, and this time, you wouldn't want for it to end.

Maybe. 

[sp00kymulderr]

We Fall (Javier Peña x Reader)

Warnings: Vague mentions of anxiety

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 1,319

A/N: Anon requested the following prompts for Javi, but I can’t follow prompts to save my life so it’s not quite what you asked for:

I called you at 2am because I need you

I’m scared but won’t admit it so you take my hand

                                                         ***

Fear.

When you’re working for the American government in Colombia, fear becomes less the thing that keeps you up at night and more something that you thrive upon. One day, eventually and unknowingly, the fear shifts from this constant scorching heat to a static ball of electricity in your soul that keeps you moving.

But even so, in a place so dangerous and unpredictable, that electricity can still charge and jolt you to your core – reminding you of it’s ever-gracing presence.

This is one of those moments.

It’s not about you, not at all. Perhaps you’d feel less dread if it were. But it’s him - the one person in this rotting, stifling place who you’ve ever been able to really depend on. The only person who really knows you here, who you can trust. The man who lets you cry on his couch at 3am, knowing your pain even through his own liquor and smoke induced haze. The man you love.

Javier.

With Medellín at it’s worst, Escobar ruling over it with a reign of never-ceasing terror, the Colombian army are planning a risky operation. Of course the US demands involvement, let us send our best at the DEA the ambassador insists. Let us send Murphy and Peña on this suicide mission.

You haven’t heard much more of the briefing, unable to fully understand anything after the ambassador tells you they’ll be leaving tomorrow and you’re staying behind. The three of you sit there, them looking calm and collected, and all you want to do is scream about how stupid this plan is. About wasting good men, the best men, on some hopeless power struggle. Instead you clench your fists under the desk and feel your body tense as you try to keep your emotions in check.

This isn’t right. He deserves better, they both do, than to be gunned down on the streets of Medellín. And it’s so stupid because they both want it, seeing it as nothing more than a chance to catch at least some of Escobar’s men if not the man himself. The weight heavy on your chest is that trepidation you had been doing so well to live with, now smothering you until your breath feels shallow.

Your thoughts are interrupted with the soft pat of a hand against your thigh, almost making you jump. He’s still listening intently but there lies his hand, palm up – an invitation. You let yours fall in to his, fingers intertwining slowly. His skin is so warm, softer than you even remember, and when he squeezes your hand reassuringly you feel some of the weight lifting away. Stroking his thumb against your skin, the simple action tells you that Javier knows you better than you ever thought – he sees you in a way no one else really has – letting you know that he’s there and it’s okay.

In a different situation, right now would be the moment you finally kiss him.

��

The small gesture that Javier made, that hint of affection and protection he showed you, gets you through to the end of the day but the minute you’re alone again that vicious despair attacks once more. Instead of letting you sleep, your brain whirrs with every terrible thing it can show you. Every operation gone wrong, all the dead bodies you’ve had to see since coming here.

The problem with Javier is that even though he’s intelligent and experienced, he’s also too headstrong for his own good, not reckless so much as determined to see it through no matter the risk to his life. You’ve seen it before, been through it before – not just with him but previous partners who compromise their own safety for the glory of reaching an almost impossible goal. It’s what makes him good at his job, Javier will do anything to succeed. Selfishly, you wish that wasn’t true but only because you never felt so much like you needed him to be alive as you do now.

At 2am, you abandon the vague comfort of your bed to wander the flat aimlessly – unsure of what to do with yourself. The abandoned books on your coffee table don’t take your fancy, neither does the half-empty bottle of tequila. Instead you chose to be selfish, to be your own form of reckless as you pull on a sweater and make to leave your apartment. But when you’re barely a foot from the door, the light rapping on it stops you in your tracks.

There he is, when you open the door, the very man you’d been about to seek out. His dishevelled hair and bleary eyes tell you he’s also been trying to sleep – for once – but the smell of alcohol on him makes you think he’s been awake a while longer than you have.

“Javi. Are you-” opening the door to him he enters quickly, unsure for just a moment and then he’s right there in front of you and gathering you in his arms.  Surrounding, pulling you close to him with one hand against the small of your back and the other on the back of your head, telling you to lean in to him.

For what could be hours, but is likely a couple minutes, you stand like that in silence. He smells of old smoke and vaguely of cinnamon, somehow so comforting as you breathe him in shakily. He’s held you before, but something about this moment feels different. A press of his lips to your forehead has you clutching at him, hanging on to him like he’s your last hope in the world. Maybe he is.

“You know I’m coming back, right?” Javier whispers, breath hot where it brushes against your hair

“Javi...it’s...there’s so much that could go wrong...I don’t-” you stumble for words, still left startled by his tender embrace.

“I know you’re scared for me, but I’m not leaving you. I promise”

He knows. He knows and he’s always known; what you need, who you are, everything you want. In spite of what he might call his cold-heartedness, the man who has you enveloped in his arms has a predisposition to care so much. An instinct, when it comes to you. Even if it isn’t love to him, it’s more intimacy and endearment than either of you ever thought you deserved.

“You can’t promise that, Javi. You don’t know what’s going to happen out there. Just...be safe...don’t be an idiot”

Pulling back slightly, you look up at him. He doesn’t feel the fear any more, not really. It’s been so long now he’s far past it, so when you look in his eyes you see only that warmth and steadfastness that you’ve come to know of him. It does something to help you.

He leans down slightly and presses his forehead to yours when he speaks again.

“Listen to me. No one knows what’s going to happen, you’re right. But do you really think I’d finally find my person, and then go and get myself killed? I want years and years with you to make you laugh and piss you off, and you know how stubborn I can be when I want something”

You both laugh, just slightly and only for a moment but it shifts the atmosphere and when he finally unwraps himself from you, you find tears on your face that aren’t from terror of losing him but joy of having him with you.

“I promise” he tells you once more, hand squeezing yours just like earlier. Giving you something to keep you afloat against the sea of anguish that his absence will surely still bring.

If his life ends tomorrow riddled with bullet holes, then you will spend every remaining moment of your life hollow, broken. That is the fear. And perhaps fear is ruler in this place, but somehow now you know the heart is stronger even than that.

And Javier is your heart.

                                                        ***

Tag list:

@pascalisthepunkest @if-i-were-your-raven

[burntmcnuggies]

A Hopeless Fight

Yandere Levi x Reader

Warning: this story contains blood, gore, and suggestive themes such as kidnapping, murder, non-consensual touching, forced sex, and drug usage. You guys have been warned! Now all of you who wanna read! Please enjoy! :D

Chapter One: Hopeful

“Morning (Y/N)!”

“Oh good morning deary!”

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Have you brought us treats again?!”

I laughed and smiled at all of the people greeting me as I walked into the hospital. I kneeled down to the kids and dig into my purse, pulling out their favorite candies. “Now don’t eat it all at once, small bites ok? And don’t make Dr. Zöe mad alright? Be good.” They thanked me enthusiastically and hugged me. I smiled warmly and hugged the poor little cancer kids back. A special connection was between me and those sick kids. My little brother had sadly passed away from cancer, and I promised myself one day I would help in the search for a cure, and help others. “There’s my favorite little visitor!” I looked towards the eccentric voice of my friend and gave her a teasing grin. There was something strange about her though, I couldn’t put my finger in it. “And my favorite doctor! How’s it going Hanji? Busy today as usual?”

“You know it! I really need your beautiful talent of manipulating people to help me get through some stubborn patients!” I sweat dropped at her semi-rude perception of my so-called “power” she believed I had. I was just honest, and respectful to all of the families with loved ones who are sick. Of course as I mentioned my brother had cancer, and the doctors did everything they could. If I had a chance, I would save others too! “An odd way of saying it, but yeah! Let’s go! I’m ready!” She gave me a grin and turned on her heel confidently, holding her clipboard and marching over to the elevator. I followed after her, looking around and smiling at the children and patients of the hospital. “First patient! 24 year-old woman in a coma. We need to do brain surgery but the mother won’t consent.”

“Come on, Hanji.” I took the paper from her clipboard and then grabbed another from the nurses desk. I was still only a med student, but my messy haired friend had already given me permission to visit and discuss procedures with patients and administer IV’s. “Give me something more challenging.” She chuckled and smiled before walking off to go see another one of her many patients. I walked into the room and closed the door slowly. “Hello ma’am.” I greeted the older woman who sat beside her daughters bed, just staring and holding her hand. She looked up and quickly wiped her eyes, squeezing her daughters hand tighter. “My name is (Y/N), and I’m a nursing med student in the area... I wanted to talk with you one last time about your daughters condition...”

—

“(Y/N)!!! You’re too good! You got the consent in under 5 minutes! That HAS to be a new record!” I grinned and laughed talking a sip of my water before picking up my sandwich again. I had visited at least 7 patients in a little under 2 hours and gotten the consent for major surgeries from all of them. I guess i really did have some sort of gift, or it’s just my way of persuasion. “Well I’m glad they all turned out to be ok. The first patient you gave me finally woke up from the coma... now some other nurses are giving her steroids and observing her.” I smiled warmly down at the table, feeling a warm bubbling sensation in my heart. It was that beautiful feeling of knowing I’d helped someone in need. I knew this was where I belonged. “Dr. Zöe, please let me be an oncologist here once I graduate med school!”

Hanji looked at me surprised, not expecting me to be so straight forward with her in asking such an important question. Honestly it was more like a statement. She smirked and set her food down. “Alright. Sounds good to me.” I looked at her surprised and started to tear up a little bit. Finally, the dream I’ve wanted ever since my brother passed was finally going to come true soon. All I have to do is finish med school in a couple weeks and I’ll have it! “Thank you so much Hanji... you have absolutely no idea how much this means to me...” She smiled and leaned over, patting my head as if I were some kind of dog. I continued to smile and cry in happiness, but my happiness was short-lived once I looked up at the news. It seems I wasn’t the only one paying attention.

“And now onto Chief Erwin Smith for a very important segment.”

“Goodmorning Trost. Heartbreaking news: the ashes of Dimo Reeves was found in the Trost landfill this morning at 3am by a nightly worker. All blood was drained from the body, and it’s clear there was evidence of torture and mutilation. There is also no sign of the other man that’d been missing for two weeks. If you knowing anything about their deaths or disappearances, please contact the number at the bottom of the screen.” My eyes widened in surprise. Dimo Reeves? He ran the largest chain of market in the states. Sina, Maria, and Rose! Without him then who is going to be the CEO of the Reeves company? And they still haven’t found the other guy? “I wonder why the police aren’t getting involved. I mean, shouldn’t they be investigating? People have been going missing and turning up dead left and right... the town is in a panic.” I looked down in sadness that all of those people had gone missing. It also scared me. None of the victims had anything in common. They didn’t even know each other. Rumor was the killer was possibly a hitman. I have no doubt that’s true. “In response to the many civilians wanting answers. We’ve put our best officer on the case, Corporal Levi Ackerman.”

“Oh I’ve heard of him...” Hanji mumbles and glares at the screen, pouting a bit while she sipped her drink I looked back up at the screen and watched as a rather short handsome young man walked onto the screen, standing beside the blond-haired chief. “Rumor is he’s the strongest man in the world. He’s cracked over a hundred cases and is very skilled in combat. Looks like they are stepping up the game.” Strongest man in the world, huh? He doesn’t look the part of the strongest man in the world, but I can’t judge much since I haven’t seen underneath his navy police uniform. There was something that unnerved me about him though. His eyes. A beautiful color indeed, but deep within, he was hiding something. But what? “Nobody stands a chance against him. He’s basically an S+ class detective.”

“My team and I will find this murderer, and bring him to justice. As a precaution we ask everyone to limit themselves of how much time they spend outdoors. Until we’ve caught the killer, it’s advised that every household has an armed weapon nearby.” I understand the need for that, but wouldn’t that cause suspicion and caution between neighbors? Knowing that the person right next door has a lethal weapon and can discharge it at will. Maybe I’m overthinking it. “Officers will be placed in every area as security. Thank you.” Shouts of gratitude and encouragement were thrown at the ebony-haired man as he walked off stage with his commanding officer. Something about him just wasn’t right. Murmurs filled the food court with gossip about Corporal Levi. Some praising how strong he was, others discussing how safe they felt with him being on the case of the murderer. “He seems confident... perhaps a little too cocky don’t you think? I don’t know... something just feels off about him.”

I failed to notice my friend flinch from across the table. “How exactly?” She asked in curiosity. I shrugged and stared at the man walking out of the view of the TV camera. What did i see him that made me so uneasy? “It’s his eyes. There’s something deep within them. Something almost... sadistic if you know what I mean? I’m probably just being paranoid.” Hanji clenched her fists and laughed off my explanation. She casually brushed my accusation to the side after that and picked up her phone to check the time. “You’re overreacting. He’s helped a lot of people. We should probably be heading back now. I have a surgery to oversee in twenty minutes. Think you can visit some of the cancer children while I’m away?” I nodded and picked up both our plates, kindly disposing of her food as well to help her save some time. When I turned around to say something she was gone. I raised a brow and gave a quick glance around the room. She must’ve gone to the OR already. Well, looks like I can go start my task too! I walked down the hallway with a smile on my face to give hope to the many ill patients. Sometimes a smile can give people hope and set them at rest.

Waiting for death is cruel. But giving people hope, can help them live up those last moments of presumed hopelessness to make themselves happy.

Hope makes people keep pushing. Which is why I will never give up.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Levi, we might have to do something about her earlier than I expected. She’s too smart for her own good.”

“Tch, couldn’t have let me prepare? I’ll be there in 20.”

[quarantinebreakup412081121]

Day 273 - “Hey so I’m garbage”

“Hey so I’m garbage

I’m talking to someone didn’t know how to bring it up and/or wanted to wait until holidays were over but then I would ruin your damn year already if I wait so fuck it.  I’m sorry, could have handled it way better but I guess that’s just classic ------”

That’s the message I received last night.

That’s the message I received after he apologized 5 weeks ago and said that he handled ending things with us poorly and that I deserved better and even during the years we were together that I deserved better.  “You meant a lot to me, maybe I wasn’t the best at articulating that or showing it but you’re really all I had. A job and you, unfortunately I focused more on the job and im sorry for that” were his actual words.

He also hit me with the “you’re an amazing person... and you deserve someone that will smother you in the affection and attention you deserve.  I’m the one that failed you.”

He said he had a lot of things to work on.

Well he has apparently miraculously fixed all of the issues he had within 5 weeks because he’s dating someone new.  So all of the things he couldn’t or wouldn’t do for or with me-- and the basic boyfriend-in-a-relationship things that he fought against doing constantly- I guess those have magically sorted and he’s ready to move on.

That’s sarcasm and very unlikely- but what’s more realistic is that he intentionally treated me the way he did because he could.  And he continued to do it because he wanted to and he knew I would pretend it was fine.  And he didn’t show me respect throughout most of our relationship, and he’s continuing to treat me like that now as well.  Maybe it made him feel powerful and in charge.  I don’t know.  I’ll never know.  It sounds to me like he lied to me about everything he said in his apology and probably only brought that stuff up because he was talking to someone new and wanted to clear his conscience of whatever microscopic amount of "guilt” he was feeling.

He has done a stupendous job of finding unexpected and creative ways to hurt me, put me down, and make me feel worthless.  But last night took the fucking cake.  No, honestly, that even beat his “It’s not working out. We should move on.” text back in March on Day 1.

“It’s not working out.  We should move on.” after 5 years and 2 months.  In the months leading up to it, there was no Christmas present, no anniversary acknowledgement, no Valentine, and no idea as to why I was hurt by any of that...  Then he blessed me with the breakup initiation via text.

Some people are trash and I get that.  But how did I allow myself to date one of them for 5 years?  Someone close to me told me that I shouldn’t let him control how I’m feeling- but that it made sense that I was feeling this way and that it’s the same way people in abusive relationships still have emotional connections to their abusers and have a hard time getting past things even though they’re in a better situation away from the abuser.  That’s the closest thing I can compare this to.  Don’t get it twisted-- there was never any physical abuse, but emotionally... it’s the worst I’ve ever been treated by anyone.

He’s an asshole, so of course he dropped that on me last night, when he knows I’m still celebrating and enjoying Christmas.  And I was.  In fact, I was enjoying it and not stressed about him at all because we’d been talking again recently and while it wasn’t with the intention of leading into another relationship- it was nice to have that gap in my heart temporarily filled during this time of year.  But he couldn’t wait until January- when nothing of significance was happening, when I’d be able to take my time and process things and work my way through this heartache all over again.  Nope, that fucker made sure that he hit me when and where it would hurt the absolute most.  I suppose at least he didn’t do it right before actual Christmas, and he probably expects me to be grateful to him for that.  Of course.

Last night when I read his messages, my entire body felt like it was on fire and my eyes started to swell up, and that sensation spread across my whole face.  I was with my family so I fought to hold in the tears and sniffles.  I stopped the Christmas movie that I was watching because I don’t want this to be the feeling I associate with it the next time I watch it.  I put on Avengers Endgame because that’s my “make me feel better” movie.  Not sure why- but it usually works, at least a little.  I cried.  I stared at the message and kept opening it to read it over and over again.  I wondered why he wanted to do this to me now.  Weren’t we trying to be civil and remain friends?  Isn’t that what was happening for the last few weeks?  I broke down and let it all out to a friend who was texting me to find out if I wanted to use his account to watch the new Wonder Woman movie.  He was sweet and kind and tried to make me feel better, but it didn’t fix anything.  I texted my best friend, even though I didn’t want to because she’s dealt with a lot lately and I didn’t want to throw a wet towel on her and her family’s happy Christmas break.  But I didn’t know what else to do.  I broke down and cried to my mom.  I tend to avoid talking to her about things that have to do with my ex because she didn’t like him (didn’t like the way he treated me, he was condescending, and he could come off as just being downright rude a lot of the time) but I couldn’t keep it in, no matter how hard I tried.  She brought up a lot of valid points and tried to make me feel better, but despite my ability to understand what she was saying and agree with her on all of it, it still didn’t do much in the way of helping how I was feeling.

I’ve never been so livid in my life.  I’ve never felt so sad and angry and dejected and hurt and hopeless and betrayed all at once and I couldn’t process it; to be honest, I’m still having quite a bit of trouble with it.  I went to sleep around 3am, still watching Endgame.  It didn’t really help but it didn’t hurt.

I laid there for hours, not actively crying, but tears were streaming out of my eyes constantly.  I had to take my hoodie off because the sleeve was soaked through.  I woke up feeling like I’d fallen and hit every part of my body at once, just one huge ache.  I couldn’t eat breakfast.  I ran errands.  We got things done, but for me it felt like 3 hours of anxiety attacks coming and going.  I started to feel anxious and panicked being in stores and around people and it felt like some sort of strange sensory overload that I have never in my life experienced.  I indirectly took it out on my mom a tiny bit without realizing it, and I beat myself up internally for doing that.  I got home and asked my brother to make a post office run for me so I wouldn’t have to go out around people again today.  I haven’t eaten anything in over 24 hours.  I have no desire to.  I need to make myself drink some water because I don’t think I’ve had water all day either.

His message is still sitting there... showing as read but not replied to on Snapchat.  I don’t know what to say or how to reply.  I want to say all of the things I’ve posted on this blog over the last year... I want to yell at him and scream at him and make him understand what he’s done to me for the last year (plus 5) and make him feel some of what I’m feeling. But somehow I feel like that would just give him some strange feeling of satisfaction and he’d be content knowing that he obliterated me and he’s moving along without a second thought.  It’s not fair how this is all unfolding. It hasn’t been fair for the last 6 years and it’s continuing down the same path again and I can’t take it.  I just can’t.

And in reference to the first line of his message.  Garbage doesn’t try to hurt you and ruin as much as it can for you then skip away like, “lol, but fuck it, that’s just classic me, rightttt???  lol haha lollllll”

Speaking of “haha” and “lol”-- I am just this second realizing that his increased usage of emojis and little fillers like “haha” and “lol” were probably things he started doing to change and improve his communication for this new girl he’s talking to, and I just got some of it because that was the default mode he was already in for her.  I fucking hate him so much I don’t even have words... but maybe later tonight I will, and I’ll write another post.

[celawrites]

Day 37

It’s 12am and my phone is buzzing and I cannot sleep. What the fuck is going on.

You have 20 new notifications

I click open our class chat first, and to my surprise, it’s all birthday messages.

Clown: Did you guys actually have to type me a whole essay? Thank you tho <3

Pebble: A well written essay!

Sam: Time well spent

My phone vibrates and I’m invited to a call from a handful of friends.

Joining Your Neighborhood Pizza delivery service’s call…

“It’s 12am let me sleep”

“Are you not happy that we’re wishing you happy birthday at 12am?”

“I am, it’s just I’m also exhausted for no reason”

“You’re going out for a McDonalds run right?”

“Yeah. You guys woke me up halfway through”

“Sorry”

“I’m sorry it’s 12am and I really wanna know who’s in this call right now”

“Ah! It would be Estelle, Beanie, Min, “

“Your son”

“Mint”

“Sun”

“What the fuck are you guys doing awake?”

“Admiring the stars”

“Sure. Totally believe you”

��Cressie it’s your birthday.”

“One year closer to my demise I guess”

“You’re insane”

“So I’ve been told”

“Ah. Check your mailbox in the morning! There should be a couple things in there”

I yawn. 6 hours of sleep isn’t enough to run on.

“Alright get to bed. Sleep your last 3 hours and I’ll be waiting for you at 3am”

“Mint you’re the most punctual out of all of us why are you picking me up?”

“I’ve never had a McDonalds run with you. Besides, It’s Friday.”

“Alright I’m sleeping now good night”

“Good night birthday girl!”

“That’s so cheesy ksjdfalfa”

Sure enough, at 3am, I wake up and find Mint outside my door, vibing in his car. I shake my head and lock the door.

“Good morning Mint”

“Morning”

“You’re mean you know that?”

“Happy birthday Mint”

“Right back at you”

“HEY REMEMBER WHEN YOU JUST STRAIGHT UP LEFT ME ON READ WHEN I WISHED YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY-”

“I THOUGHT WE WERE OVER THAT ALREAY”

“My salty ass could never”

“Alright what do you want for your birthday?”

“Neither of us give anything-”

“Our Asian ass could never”

“HOnestly”

“Ah. I do have a present for you though”

My hand reaches into my backpack and I pull out a scrapbook.

“In true Crescent fashion, I present to you our scrapbook”

“What?”

“A collection of all the photos we have together with little commentary along the way. This is now yours” I beam.

“You’re joking”

“Nope”

“I didn’t even get you anything like his I-”

“You don’t need to”

He snickers and hands me a small box.

“I found it while shopping online, and it reminded me of that one time A gave you a rainbow rose so I figured I would give you an eternal one”

I stare at the rose. It’s rainbow, and I was surprised he even remembered that his brother had given me one.  I tear up slightly, maybe its because I wasn’t used to getting gifts from him, or the sudden change of heart but I mean-

“I’m crying”

“You’re always crying”

“SHUT UP KDFSKFSHDJF”

My hands clink at the glass softly, and Mint hums in appreciation as he flips through the scrapbook.

“Where’s this photo from?”

“Hm?”  He points at a photo where both he and his brother are jumping on the trampoline while I’m sitting.

“Your mom sent it to my mom a few years back”

“Ah”

There’s a comfortable silence that passes over us, and I decide to answer all the texts that I had received about my birthday while he flipped through the book.

After about a dozen thank you!’s and 4 conversations, I finish. Mint snickers when he flips to the last page.

“You just had to put that one last huh?”

On the last page lies Mint and I at Junior prom last year. It was a tradition to go with eachother, and my friend had taken a photo where we were pretending to make out.

”Why? Don’t want your future wife seeing it?”

“No. It’s just you saved the best for last” he snorts.

“Of course” I hum.

“Alright what do you want from McDonalds?”

“Ice cream”

“You’re literally bleeding this week no”

“Uhhh. Fries?”

“Sure”

Mint starts his car and we head off. The sky is a calm blue. A dark shade that leaves you wondering if there’s more out there. It was ironic that I had met him so long ago. It was even more surprising when he moved here for junior and senior year. I was horribly confused, and the only explanation he could muster out was a job change for his parents. But I was pretty sure they just wanted to have A mature in a different environment.

“Lost in thought again?”

“Mhm. You never told me how and why you moved here in detail”

“Nothing really. It was a job change on my parents part, and a new path for A”

“What about you?”

“I wanted to chase the only person who never gave up on me”

“You’re disgusting”

“Better than confessing to my crush every day for a whole year”

“LEAVE ME ALONE”

“You’re the one who brought up how I chased you all the way to California”

“I still wonder how you can pin after someone like me”

“At some point I realized you saw me as a brother”

“I wish I could do that.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic. Have some fun every once in a while”

“Are you implying I should have a one night stand?”

“Once you’re a legal adult sure”

“Bad decision making except it’s Mint giving me bad advice as a joke”

“I hate you”

“Love you too~”

“You’re disgusting”

“Bleh”

HE pulls up at the McDonalds drive-through and I scream.

“dEAR ARE YOU ALIVE?”

“OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING! EVERYTHING’S ON ME TODAY”

“WTF DEAR NO”

“NO OBJECTIONS. IS MINT WITH YOU?”

“I’m here”

“Happy birthday Mint darling anyways what do you guys want?”

“The usual”

“Nothing new?”

“Nope”

“Alright! See you at the second window!”

“Cressie darling I got you a gift!”

“I- what?”

“Gift.” He tosses something through the car window and it lands in my hands.

“What is it?”

“Check”

I click open the box and I find a small pendant with a moon.

“I thought you were a broke high school student?”

“But the boss gave me a raise and told me to get something nice for my lover and like I don’t have one so I mean-”

“I don’t deserve you” I sniff.

“Stop crying darling you’re scaring me”

I really hope you find yourself a lover this year or I will fight everyone around me I SWEAR”

“You’re being too loud again Cress”

“Sorry”

He hands us our food and waves us goodbye. It was funny to me. I had so many friends around me now that I had grown.

“Are you gonna make a birthday post?”

“Oh for Serenity!” I gasp.

I type away and Mint steals a couple fries from me. I hiss at him while typing.

“Too bad” he shrugs.

School rolls around and I ‘m met with 20 happy birthdays and a couple gifts fro my other friends. Surprise surprise I have other friends. Z and Sun’s gift surprises me the most.

“Cress” Sun calls for me after school.

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday” He hands a medium-sized box to me.

“You always make us scrapbooks for our birthdays so I thought I’d try to make one for you”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you-”

“You remind me pretty often but yeah”

I open the box and a seat little scrapbook sits inside. There’s a white pen, a silver one, and a gold pen rolling around next to it, and there’s a small letter. Z tackles me from behind and I crash into Sun’s chest.

“Z what the f-”

“Language” Sun glares.

“Your gift!” Z hands me a small photo sized box.

“Photos?”

“You made a whole batch with notes on the back for me so I decided to print a bunch for you!”

“Thank you Z” I sniff slightly.

“What’s wrong! Do you not like it?”

“No no! I’m emotional haha” I muster up a smile. My cursed birthday luck was gonna catch up with me soon. I just felt it.

“No worries! It was the least I could do” Z smiles.

I nod in response. The rest of the day carries out like normal, and I find myself tired by the end of the day. My classmates threw me a party, and at the end of the day, my friends threw me another one. I enjoyed it, but I was waiting for my cursed birthday luck to catch up to me, I could never be happy until it occurred.

“If you’re thinking about that birthday curse of yours again, I’d advise you to know that with me, there’s no chance of having bad birthday luck” Mint hums. His birthdays had no bad things. It was like the universe favored him.

“I know. But I can’t truly calm down until I get to bed”

There’s a comfortable silence that settles down before Mint speaks up again.

“I’m sorry”

“Why so?”

“You had always wished me happy birthday so consistently, and I never replied and I just feel really bad and all-”

“Don’t worry about it.” I tap at the red solo cup in my hand. “I probably deserved all that”

“You don’t and that’s why I kind of. Um”

“Mint you’re my editor what did you do-”

“Bought tickets back home?” I gape at him. My jaw is dropped, and he seems to panic. “My home’s open and all! I know your house is rented out and the renters for my place just moved out and we have thanksgiving in a month so I figured I would take you back for the break and I’m sorry! I probably should’ve asked first and all but-”

A choked sob escapes my lips. I’m shocked, I hadn’t gone home in so long. How did he know? A stream of incoherent words escapes my lips and Mint tries to soothe me.

“You know.” I managed to force it out. “Some days I question why I stopped crushing on you. You spoil me rotten, and I don’t even deserve someone who cares for me and knows me like you and you always seem to know how I’m feeling and-”

Mint rubs soft circles on my back, and I let out my emotions. My birthday curse wasn’t a curse. It was a tradition. A tradition to cry at least once on my birthday, and for the first time, I was crying tears of joy. A couple minutes pass, and I feel my emotions slowly draw back.

“Thank you” I mumbled weakly.

Serenity made a new post!

It’s my birthday! Thank you to all of you who sent in birthday wishes (and death threats)! Another year has passed and I truly wish that I could thank you all face to face for the support!

Once again, my lovely editor Leaf shares a birthday with me so go ahead and send in some birthday wishes to him as well. For today’s gift from me, you all get a blast of joy! Much love!

-Serenity

Previous : Masterlist : Next

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Unexpected Arrival -5

Pairing: Eventual Bucky x Reader, Possible Steve x Reader

Summary: As if working with the Avengers wasn’t exciting enough…. an unexpected visitor is about to change your life forever.

A/N- If you would like to be tagged in this just drop my ask/message and i will add you ⭐️

Switching off the TV i got out of bed and stretched feeling my body crack in various places, i quickly checked on Evie who was fast asleep in her rocker before grabbing the baby monitor and heading to the kitchen for some tea and something to eat.

"Hey" Bucky says from the sofa startling me, it was nearly 9pm and i thought he'd still be out on his date.

"Hey" i replied quietly as i continued making my tea and grabbing some food.

"Where's Evie?"

"Sleeping in my room"

"You sure she's okay by herself...."

"She's fine" i nodded looking at the baby monitor that had a huge screen showing my sleeping baby girl "take a look for yourself" i pushed it closer to him.

"Did stark make this?"

"Of course!"

It was suddenly so quiet, you could of heard a pin drop!

"So why are you still here? Thought you had a hot date?"

"I never wanted to go on that stupid date. I kept trying to tell Sam that but you know what his like"

"Right"

"I just wanted to be here, spend more time with you and Evie. But you've been locked away in your room for hours"

"Sorry, i feel asleep" i shrugged "then i watched a movie, i didn't know you were still here and i didn't want the team fussing...." i lied, i couldnt tell him that the truth was i had been sitting in my room crying over him!! I finished making my tea and poured out a cup of black coffee for Bucky knowing he would never turn down coffee.

"Here" i gave him a quick smile as i placed the steaming hot mug on the table in front of him. As i turned to go back into the kitchen Bucky reached forward taking my hand stopping me from leaving.

"Hey...."

"What?"

"Are you really okay?"

"Im fine" i nodded forcing a smile, i could already tell by the look on his face he wasnt buying it.

"Come here" he pulled me down next to him pulling me into his side so that i was curled up against his chest "you know you can talk to me"

"You sound like Steve" i mumbled rolling my eyes.

"Steve? When did you talk to Steve?"

"Earlier, he came by to check on me"

"Oh"

"He heard me crying and let himself in i didn't invite him in"

"Crying? Why were you crying?" He asked looking down at me with worried eyes.

"Im just hormonal, I'm literally crying at everything. Im a mess right now...."

"Thats understandable after what you've been through doll, it'll get better soon. Its not even been 24 hrs yet"

"Yeah i know" i nodded in agreement giving him a small smile.

"That why you got pissy about the whole date thing?" He suddenly asked making my heart start to race.

"Honestly? I don't know.... part of me was angry that you'd even consider going on that date when i had just given birth to your daughter. Then you said you felt like you need to be here, i wanted you to want to be here for her. I don't want to feel like me and Evie are ruining your life"

"What?? Y/N how could you ever think you and Evie ruin my life??" He looked down at me like i was crazy "You have given me the best thing I've ever had in my life. I know we didn't plan for this to happen but, I'm happy it did. And I'm glad that it was with you"

My head fell against his chest in an attempt to hide the fact i was crying again!!

"Doll..... are you crying?"

"Yes okay! I cant help it!" I moaned then we both started laughing at what a mess i was.

"I should get back to Evie, i don't want to leave her alone for too long" i said finally pulling myself out of Bucky's arms.

"Can i come and say goodnight? Is that okay?"

"Of course it is, you don't need permission Buck" i smiled at him before grabbing my tea and some chips and heading back to my room.

Evie was just waking up and starting to cry when we walked into my room, Bucky was straight over there lifting her into his arms.

"There's my girl" he cooed quietly, he loved her so much already it was clear from the way he looked at her, Evie instantly curled up against his neck and started falling asleep again.

"Come and sit down with her Buck, you cant stand there all night" i nodded to the empty side of the bed. He nodded before walking over and sitting next to me, as he got comfy i started a movie on Netflix and opened my chips leaving the bag between us so he could have some if he wanted.

"If i fall asleep wake me up at 3am for her feed" i said to Bucky like it was something we did all the time.

"Sure doll" he smiled down at me before his eyes focused back on the TV.

Bucky woke me up at 3am as promised for Evie's feed, I don't even remember much of it to be honest, i felt like a zombie most of the time since having her. It became a regular thing over the next couple of days, Bucky would stay in my room with us and wake me up when it was time to feed Evie then we'd wake up cuddled up with Evie sleeping in her basket at the side of the bed. I could almost fool myself into thinking we more than two friends who had a baby together.

Waking up this morning i found myself alone in bed and Evie's basket empty, Bucky would probably be out in the common room with her letting me get some more rest. As i sat up i felt the front on my top was wet and looked down to see my breasts had been leaking!

"Really....this is just fantastic!" I groaned throwing back the covers and getting up, my breasts were hurting and feeling so full i could cry! I grabbed Bucky's hoodie that was on the back of my chair and went off to find Evie.  When i got to the common room Bucky was sat alone reading on the sofa, i looked around but there was no sign of Evie.

"Buck, where's Evie??" I asked needing to know where my baby was.

"Steve and Nat have taken her for a walk outside, trying the new stroller Tony made"

"Shit..." i muttered shifting uncomfortably "okay" i nodded before quickly heading to the room next to mine that was currently being decorated for Evie's nursery. I started rummaging through the many boxes looking for what i needed, i remember seeing one here somewhere!!

"Doll, what are you doing?" Bucky asked from the doorway, i turned to see him casually leaning against the door frame watching me.

"Looking for something....."

"What? If you tell me i can help you"

"I need the breast pump.... like now!"

"Why? Are you okay...."

"This is why!" I quickly opened the hoodie showing him my wet top, Bucky's eyes went wide and he actually blushed a little.

"i cant wait for them to bring Evie back, it hurts too much! I need to do this now"

"Okay, go wait in the bedroom i'll find it"

When i heard Bucky come back a couple minutes later i had already shed my wet top and was standing in sweatpants and my lilac nursing bra Nat had gone out to buy me.

"Shit sorry! I should have knocked" Bucky mumbled turning around quickly.

"Come on Buck its not like you haven't seen me in less" i rolled my eyes at him reaching for the box in his hand.

"My god how does this thing even work!!" I yelled getting frustrated with the damn thing.

"Let me see, just try and calm down" he said taking the pump and reading the instructions.

"I have no idea.... this is talking about nipple sizes!" Bucky said looking horrified shaking his head at me.

"Having this baby has left me with no dignity at all! pass me one of those bottles..." i pointed at one of the bottles that attaches to the pump "Bruce and Tony have literally seen everything! And now this!" I said taking the bottle from Bucky and turning my back to him while i unclasped the cup of my bra.

"Ow ow ow!" I cried as i tried to put pressure around my nipple "this is ridiculous!" My head dropped as i started crying at how hopeless i felt.

"Hey come on now, you can do this" Bucky said from behind me, i hadn't even noticed he was that close until i felt his chest against my back, his hands resting on my stomach.

"Do you want me to.... i could try and...."

"Im already humiliated Buck" i shook my head at him. I rested my head back against his chest and closed my eyes trying to calm myself down. When i felt Bucky's hands slowly moving up from my stomach to cup my breasts my eyes flew open, my heart racing.

"Bucky...."

"Shhh just relax" he whispered as his hands started to massage my breasts.... god he was good with his hands! I let my eyes fall closed again as i felt myself relaxing.

"You feeling okay?" He mumbled close to my ear.

"Yeah it feels better actually" i replied opening my eyes, i looked down to see Bucky holding the bottle in his metal hand whilst his right continued putting pressure in all the right places on my breast.....The bottle already filling slowly.

"This is so embarrassing..... i feel like a cow!" I moaned, Bucky just chuckled and kissed the side of my head "Thank you" i said quietly, as embarrassed as i was right now i was so grateful that he had helped me with this.

"No problem doll".

"You know this is a good thing, i get to help feed Evie now!" Bucky called through to me while i was in the bathroom cleaning up and getting in fresh clothes.

"I'll try and work that thing out so i can express too. That way you can feed her more"

"Thanks" he beamed at me at i came back out into the bedroom "you feeling okay now?"

"Yeah I'm good" i smiled "embarrassed but I'm okay"

Bucky pulled me into his arms and held me tight, his hands gently rubbing up and down my back.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart" he mumbled "we make a pretty good team you and me"

"Yeah we do. We always did though, thats how we got here Buck" i laughed thinking back to that mission in Alaska, we had been paired for that mission for that exact reason.

"Thats right, Steve said we were perfect for the job because we worked well together..... maybe we worked together a little too well" he said putting his arm around my shoulders "I mean, what are the chances that the one time i get you into bed i get you pregnant!"

"Must be those damn super sperm of yours!" I rolled my eyes at him.

"Must be" he chuckled "come on lets go find our girl".

Taglist:

@booktease21

@founding-fuck-bois

@whynot3027

@xpunishedx

@siren-queen03

[evans-fiction]

Look a the night, and it don’t seem so lonely

Summary: It’s the summer of ‘79, but liquor isn’t the only thing Caro finds herself drowning into. Falling in love with a stranger on a rooftop had never sounded less scary. A story best read with your favourite 70s love songs humming in the background..

Pairings: 1970s au Chris Evans x OFC Caroline

Words: 8.5k

Warnings: Language. Mentions of alcohol/death/homophobia, but very minor. a little Angst, but mostly a bunch of flirting and song references!!!!!

                                                    ***

Caro watched herself in the mirror, tightening the front knot of her white top and making sure everything would remain in place. Her fingers grazed her exposed collarbones, thrilling shivers coursing through her veins at the thought of going out in such a daring outfit. It made her look nice, the bell bottom jeans accentuating the curves of her hips while her chiffon shirt revealed just enough to still be considered appropriate. It was a party after all, she had the right to look provocative.

“Darling, have you seen my leather boots?” She heard her friend’s voice echo from the hallway, Stella already at the front door and ready to run out of their apartment. “Never mind!”

She gave herself one last glance, switching her earrings for large hoops last minute, and joined her best friend in the hall. Stella’s full head of blonde curls bounced with her steps as both women trotted out of their building, the beers they had had before leaving were already working their charms.

“I still can’t believe you got us into this party.” Caro sighed while her friend lit up a cigaret, yelling the directions at their taxi driver. “Will you ever tell me what you did?”

She laughed, puffing the smoke out of the window while Caro tried her best to refrain from coughing. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Stella smirked and she rolled her eyes at her mysterious attitude. Knowing her best friend, Caro was pretty certain she had either sold the host some weed or offered something else in exchange. It was one of the most anticipated event in their town, invites only, and definitely not the type of crowd Caro was used to, but Stella wanted to celebrate getting a new job at a law firm and so she had followed her.

As expected, their car slowed down in front of a massive property already swarmed with people. Caro’s jaw dropped as she took in the state of the mansion, people were sprawled across the yards, already drowning in liquor and hanging from balconies. The music was awfully loud, she could decipher the melody of Dancing Queen from their parked car, the vibrations making her heart thump. “Are you ready babe?” She heard Stella say beside her as they stepped out from the vehicle, admiring the booming party with its pulsing lights and roaring crowd. It was as if the place itself emanated an aura of bliss, and even before stepping inside, both women knew this night would be absolutely memorable.

A loud engine roared a couple feet away, the sound managing to drown the blasting music and it caught Caro’s attention. She barely had the time to glimpse at the man hopping off his motorcycle before Stella pulled her inside the house. Immediately, she was given a drink and handed joints, which she refused with embarrassment. Caro could barely handle the smell, let alone smoke with her terrible asthma, one of the many reasons why she avoided such events. But today was a special occasion, and she had to make sure Stella would stay safe.

In contrast to her own character, her best friend lived for parties and massive get togethers. She had been the same since high school and had kept her vigor well into adulthood. More often than not, Caro had to pull her out of drunken situations or had been her 3AM call for a ride home. She didn’t mind it, Stella had been her friend since kindergarten, and they had always taken care of each other. It was them against the world, always.

“I have to find Mickey.” The blonde woman yelled over the music, Caro confused about who this person was, but assumed it might have been the host. “Go have fun, babe! I’ll find you later.” And just like that, Stella had disappeared into the massive crowd of grinding bodies. It was not unusual for them to separate, but it didn’t mean that Caro felt more comfortable. She decided to head for the kitchen, trying to grab herself a decent drink that hadn’t been made by a drunk stranger, and quietly tried to tour the place without knocking into too many sweaty bodies.

For such a massive house, she was genuinely surprised to be having difficulty finding at least one empty room. It seemed as though half the state of Massachusetts had been invited to the party, people were dancing on furniture and making out in closets or bedrooms. “Invite only, my ass.” She mumbled to herself upon stumbling on a couple going at it for the fifth time.  It was becoming a hopeless quest for some peace and quiet, and Caro thought maybe she had no other choice but to head back downstair and socialize.

She tried a new door at the far end of the millionth hallway she had walked in within this house, a little perplexed to see it opened into a wooden staircase. Curiosity taking over, Caro went up the dimly lit path only to find herself opening a wide paned window leading to the roof. Relief rippled over at the realization that she had finally found a secluded place, where the music still felt as loud and invigorating, but without the suffocating mass of people. Although it was dark outside, she could still perceive the roof’s large flat surface in between two gables. It gave her a nice view of the backyard and the drunk people wandering out of the house or smoking by the gardens.

What she hadn’t noticed though, was the other presence on that same roof who cleared their throat, almost startling her to death. “For crying out loud!” She gasped, accidentally spilling her drink on her white top. The silhouette in the corner chuckled at her reaction, the sound clearly belonging to a man, while she tried her best to dry out her stain.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was raspy, almost too deep to be heard over the music. Caro groaned, irritated that she had dirtied her outfit and now smelled like beer.

“Well you did, my shirt is completely ruined.” She huffed. The stranger stepped out from the shadow, and if she hadn’t been so bitter about her outfit, she would have probably gaped at how mesmerizing he looked under the moonlight. Instead, she used her annoyance to stop herself from swooning at his buff stature, soft eyes and charming smile.

“Here, have mine.” He said, taking off his flannel and revealing broad shoulders, his muscular body accentuated by his black t-shirt. Caro gulped, quietly thanking the stranger and taking his offered shirt. Carefully ridding herself of her dirty top, and making sure he wouldn’t even catch a shadow of her exposed body, she buttoned up the oversized flannel. It smelled like fresh pine, with a barely noticeable undertone of cigaret and cologne, and was warm around her.

“Sorry for yelling at you.” She mumbled, genuinely feeling a little horrible at her rude attitude given how the man had immediately offered to help. He smiled under his beard, his full lips opening to reveal a set of perfect teeth that were probably brighter than the moon. Caro wished she could see the colour of his eyes, but it was too dark to decipher anything. She could still appreciate how clear they seemed to look. “I’m Caro.”

“Is that short for something?” He replied, shoving both hands in the pockets of his jeans, which only made his biceps bulge even more. Okay, she had to stop staring.

“Yeah, actually. Caroline.”

“Like the song?” He wondered and she nodded.

“If I had a penny every time someone said that...” She sighed and he laughed quietly, the sound somehow making her heart quiver. “What are you doing up here anyway, all alone?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The stranger said, a teasing tone to his voice as he walked back to his previous spot. She realized there were chairs and a couple cushions laid in the corner, already set to enjoy the summer evenings with a clearer view of the moon and the stars. As she approached the cosier area, she could feel the music vibrate under her feet, ABBA’s hits fading into Bowie’s Starman and its rhythmic guitar strokes.

“I just needed some quiet, you know.” She explained, not sure why she was so easily revealing her thoughts to this complete stranger, who hadn’t even mentioned his name yet. “I’m not a big fan of parties.”

“Why did you come then?” He asked her, collapsing on a plastic outdoor chair while she awkwardly took a seat on an ottoman. “Beer?”

“Yes, please.” Caro hummed in satisfaction as she wrapped her fingers around the cold bottle, freshly opened. “And, well, I just followed my friend, you know. Making sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

He eyed her strangely, as if what she was saying made no sense to him. “Then why aren’t you downstairs checking up on her?”

She rolled her eyes, feeling a light sense of judgment from the man. “We have a system. As long as you don’t hear anything break, it’s fine.” A flash of concern crossed his eyes, and all she could give him was a shrug. “How do you know this spot anyway?”

The man scoffed before taking a long sip of his drink. “I should be asking you that. I live her.” He said, simply, and Caro spat out her beer in shock.

“Holy shit, are you joshin’ me?” He laughed at her reaction. “This place is absolutely insane!” Then she thought back to what she had just said regarding Stella. “I was kidding about my friend, she’s not going to break anything.”

“Thanks? Still unsure if I should be worried or not.” Her jaw was still to the floor, trying to understand how this man dressed in flannels and ripped up, oil stained jeans could own a million dollar house.

“So, wait, why aren’t you downstair?” She questioned him back, and his lips pursed, pale eyes drifting to look at the distance.

“My house, not my party.”

“How does that make any sense?” Caro chuckled and the man shrugged, a coy smile on his face.

“It doesn’t.” She frowned, curious about what he meant. Caro took the short moment of silence to gaze at him, admiring his lean physique and long hair that swept over his head, the brown ends barely grazing his shoulders. He didn’t seem older than her, maybe by a few years, and he clearly gave off the vibe of being too ‘mature’ for parties. Stella would hate him.

She was surprised she could still hear a few crickets chirp with how loud the music was, but it was almost sedative. The night was warm and comforting, the sky clear of clouds and showcasing an array of bright stars, the only light besides the moon that allowed them to see beyond the roof’s little edge. The spot gave them a good view of the house’s backyard, surrounded by thick trees protecting them from nosy neighbours, but if she squinted her eyes a little bit, she could see the city lights far ahead, over the leaves.

She focused her attention back on him, the stranger was quietly sipping on his drink while his fingers danced over his stained jeans. Caro wondered what song was playing in his head, that entranced him so much that he had left reality for a brief moment. It wasn’t the only thing she was curious about. 

“Are you ever going to tell me your name?” She broke the silence, her interest in the handsome stranger growing with every passing second. He blinked back to consciousness, chuckling lowly before clicking his beer with hers.

“Chris.” Strangely enough, the name fit him well.

“Is that short for something?” She teased and his smirk grew. His eyes met hers, the moonlight casting almost a ghostly glow over his defined features and enhancing the sharpness of his nose and the shadow of his lashes. Finally, she could see the colour of his eyes, it was a blue that looked almost unreal, surrounded by a circle of darker azur, and Caro wanted to lean in and drown in them.

“Christopher. You ask an awful lot of questions for someone who wanted quiet.” His voice broke her brief trance and she blushed, feeling embarrassed to have let herself seem so enamoured for a moment, but not of her curious side.

“Mr Christopher, Why won’t they leave you alone...” The man snorted as Caro sang, not expecting her to retaliate. “That’s right, I know my music too.”

“Unbelievable. Styx?” Chris laughed. “Out of all the songs, you choose the one about a saint?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault your name isn’t musically inspiring.” He feigned offence while she giggled behind her bottle.

“Buzz off, will you.”

“And you’re lucky, because it just came out a couple years ago.” She continued to tease him. “How sad to have nothing written about you.”

“Hey, that’s unfair, you know.” He nudged her arm. “There are, like, a billion tunes about Carolines.”

“Yet my parents named me after an actress.” She rolled her eyes, feeling a pinch to her heart at the thought of her family. Caro took another sip of her beer while Chris watched her intently. “One Million B.C.” She clarified and his eyes widened.

“You were named after Cave Woman?” Chris gasped. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard in my life!” He guffawed and she sighed, taking in his reaction. Caro wanted to be annoyed that he was technically making fun of her, but the sight of him wholeheartedly laughing was too pleasing to remotely feel irritated.

“Glad I can humour you.” She continued and he shook his head, still chuckling. Caroline decided that it was her favourite sound.

“Were your parents, like, obsessed with the movie or something?” He asked, body fully turning to give her his attention. “I don’t remember it being so memorable.”

“I’m shocked you even watched it.” She snorted. “And yeah, my mother was particularly fond of Carol Landis.”

“Are you judging my appreciation of cinematic masterpieces?” He smirked and she scoffed. “You’d be surprised of the extent of my knowledge.”

“Alright, show off. What other obscure cultural interests do you have?” She mocked but he took his time thinking about his answer, his eyebrows curling up. Caro found it endearing how expressive his face was, everything about Chris was captivating and it was truly unfair.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you, but you’re not allowed to laugh.”

“What! You’ve been cackling like goose at me this whole time and now, I can’t make fun of you?” She lightly slapped his arm while Chris’s eyes practically twinkled. “Now, come on, spit it out.”

“Alright,” He calmed down and Caro felt bubbles of excitement in her chest, eager to learn more about him. “I might actually know the words to most Disney songs.” He finally admitted with squinted eyes and her jaw dropped.

“You’re joking.” He shook his head, grimacing in embarrassment and her face split into grin. “All of them?”

“Yep. Pretty much.” Caro blinked, trying to process exactly who this man was. Everything about his exterior screamed angry bad boy, from the leather boots to the ripped jeans and the chains around his wrists. He was big, strong, and bearded, the personification of the type of guy who brought nothing but trouble. Yet, here was Chris who was funny, surprisingly thoughtful and knew all the Disney songs. Caro wondered what more was he hiding under his seemingly rougher appearance.

“How is that even possible?” She wondered and he shrugged, head tilting back as he finished his beer.

“My family’s big on Disney.”

“Funky. But I dig it.” He smiled at her, it felt genuine, and she could read the relief in his eyes that she hadn’t ridiculed him. But how could she? It only made him so much more likeable.

“What about you Caroline? Any embarrassing facts you’d like to share with?” He asked, biting his bottom lip and she clicked her tongue, trying to hide the grin growing on her face.

“Look who’s asking all the questions now, huh?” He rolled his eyes as she poked fun at him. “And well, you’d be sad to know that I’m actually very boring.” She continued, a little nervous to talk about herself to a man she had just met, but Chris scoffed, not believing her.

“You were named after Cave Woman, there’s no way you could be boring.”

“Well, my job doesn’t leave much place for hobbies or… Watching Disney movies.” She teased and he raised a brow in question.

“What could you possibly do that rids you of the pleasure that is Robin Hood?”

She pursed her lips, a little ashamed that she truly didn’t dedicate much time for fun, except on rare occasions like tonight. For Caro, it had always been like that, ever since her parents passed away, and she had to grow up very fast. There was no time for pleasure when you had to work your ass off to meet your rent every month. “I’m a nurse.”

“Noble.” He said, sounding impressed. “New England Baptist?” She nodded, surprised that he got the hospital right. “Fun coincidence, I was there a couple weeks ago.” Her face fell, scanning him quickly for an injury she hadn’t noticed, but his smile reassured her. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t for myself.”

“Oh... Sorry for whoever you had to visit.” She grimaced apologetically and he shrugged, his expression fading into a serious frown. He didn’t seem necessarily upset, but she sensed that something was off.

“Don’t worry about it, everything’s alright now.” He forced a smile through his beard, and Caro wasn’t quite sure of what he meant by ‘alright’. Her curiosity was pressuring her to ask for more, but it would have been disrespectful and so she kept her questions for herself. “It’s a great place to work for though.” He cleared his throat, diverting the attention away from him.

“I guess. I’ve only been there for a couple years now, but I like it. What about you, what do you do?” She questioned and a more genuine smile appeared on his face.

“I fix cars.” Caro frowned at his answer, not expecting something so simple. He was the owner of a gigantic mansion; what kind of cars was he fixing? Unless it was a code word for something else. She eyed him suspiciously and he caught on her gaze. “What? Don’t believe me?”

“You just...fix cars?” He nodded, amused at her confusion. 

“Any type of engine actually. My garage’s a couple towns away if you ever have car troubles.” He pointed south, but she kept watching him oddly. “Why are you looking at me like this?”

“It’s just..strange, I wasn’t expecting that.” She clarified, still waiting for him to crack but he seemed genuine. It only confused her even more.

“I literally have oil stains on my jeans.” He chuckled. “Do I need to pull out a business card, or something?” 

“Then,” Caro began, motioning at the space around them. “How come you can afford this place?” She finally revealed her thoughts and he sighed with contentment.

“That, my dear, is called being an heir.” Her face fell in shock, not believing her ears. With eyes round as plates, she stared at Chris giving her a tight smile, while her mind had an incredibly difficult time processing his revelation. “The estate belonged to my father.”

“What a fry.” She whispered, genuinely stunned, and her reaction made him snort. Something about what he said didn’t quite click in her head, and her mind started rolling immediately. “Wait, you said belonged. Is he…?”

And there it was again, the colder look on his face that had clouded him mere minutes ago. It didn’t take much for her to connect the dots, and a familiar sadness filled her heart. “I’m...so sorry, all my condolences.” She murmured, knowing the feeling of losing parents too well. Even though her own experience happened almost a decade ago, the pain would always be fresh.

Chris sighed deeply, twirling his empty bottle between his fingers as his eyes focused intently on the rim. “Don’t feel too bad,” He replied. “He was a dick.” His words were harsh, and she could feel that he deeply meant them, yet the pained expression on his face was as clear as day.

“What about your mother? Is she okay?” Caro asked before she could stop herself. She had always been a curious person, but it came from genuine concern. It had placed her in particular situations in the past, and she personally knew how hard it was to discuss that sort of thing with people. But somehow, there was a sense of comfort when talking with Chris, and she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to learn more about him.

“She passed away when I was young, I don’t really remember her.” He shrugged again, kicking his feet back as he changed position on his chair. A veil of sadness wrapped around her heart, thinking of this man who never had the chance to know his mother and whose father apparently was deadbeat. “Anyways, that’s why Mickey’s having a party.” He continued and she raised a brow.

“A funeral party?” Her confused question made him laugh quietly, the sound heartfelt this time. Caro was glad she had managed to bring back a happier Chris, and so she relaxed back in her seat and watched him intently.

“That’s an… interesting way to put it, I guess. He was particularly awful to Mickey, so it’s his own way of celebrating the death of the man who made our lives hell.” He opened himself another beer and Caro realized she had barely touched hers.

“Ain’t that harsh, given how much he left you two.” She assumed Mickey was his brother, and the person Stella had convinced to invite them.

“That’s the least he could do.” His tone was gruff, almost making her flinch. Caro was about to apologize for pushing it when he sighed deeply, head dropping. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

She gave him a sad smile, hand reaching to grasp at his arm for comfort. There were many things she wanted to say, anything would have worked, as long as it had kept her emotional distances. Yet, something strange happened. Her usual walls felt now transparent, like there had just vanished, and allowing herself to share her experience with Chris seemed like the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t apologize. I understand the feeling.” 

His head tilted up to look at her with puzzlement, blue eyes searching her face for an explanation. Caro didn’t discuss her parents’ death with just anyone; Stella and her shrink were basically the gist of it. But Chris had just lost his father, leaving him and his brother alone in this world. They obviously were in a more privileged situation than where she had been thrown into, but the pain and confusion of the loss was universal. Just like she had wished back then that there could be someone who would understand her, Caro knew that Chris probably felt as alone. “I lost my parents too, about a decade ago.”

His expression melted into one of chagrin, Chris understanding that she had been young, too young when it happened. And he was right to think that, Caro had just freshly graduated out of pre-med, making her a legal adult who was hurled into the world with nothing but debts after debts to pay, a house to manage and a life that seemed too hopeless to live. “I’m sorry.” He murmured and it was her turn to shrug, wrapping her arms around her chest as a form of comfort. A breeze came about, softly wiping at her hair and refreshing her soul. It had been too warm today.

“As time goes by, you start to become numb to the pain,” She continued, heart feeling a little heavy. “But I try everyday not to forget their faces, and the good moments. That’s all that matters in the end.”

“You are very lucky then.” He replied and she eyed him strangely.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I mean, at least you have good memories to remember.” He explained himself and she bit her lip, once again feeling a sense of empathy for him. Part of her wished they were close enough so she could actually embrace him, bring him some warm consolation. He seemed awfully closed off, all alone on his roof, drinking his sorrows and anger away. Caro wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t stumbled on him so suddenly.  

“What about all that Disney stuff?” She wondered and it made him smirk.

“That’s because of my aunts, they practically raised Mickey and I.”

“Guess it explains the surname.” Once again, she had brought a smile back to his face and it made her feel bubbly inside.

“You’re very intuitive, you know.”

“I’ve been told.” She grinned coyly while he kept on watching her, eyes softening.

“You must make one hell of a nurse then.” She felt herself blush at his words, not quite sure what to answer. Chris’s eyes weren’t leaving hers, his gaze penetrating and she started to feel a little squeamish. “Is that why you do what you do?”

Caro was taken aback by his question, uncertain by what he actually meant. “What do you mean?”

“Nursing.” He murmured, eyes analyzing her. “Because of your parents’ passing?” 

She chewed on her lip, a little unsure of what to tell him. Caro wasn’t particularly excited to delve into her own past, but she could sense that talking about it was taking some of his own pain away. “Not really, it was just a matter of circumstances. Nothing to do with their death, really.”

“How did it happen?” He asked, but a look of regret flashed in his eyes as soon as the words left his lips. Chris didn’t mean to pry, and Caro knew that. But strangely enough, talking about how their death occurred hurt less than discussing the dreadful feeling of loss that had lingered in her chest for years. “Sorry, I shouldn’t...”

“It’s okay. I can talk about it now.” She gave him a small smile and he eased back in his seat, watching her carefully. She inhaled a deep breath, eyes gazing at the bright stars for some strength while she recalled that faithful night. “It happened ten years ago. I had just finished my senior year of college and my parents came to visit me on campus for a weekend, to help me move out of the dorms.” 

Caroline remembered their smiles, and how they had embraced her immediately upon entering the small room. The day had started wonderfully, the three of them going on a brunch to celebrate Caro being over with pre-med, and giving her the energy for the many more years of school she had left. Morning dragged on to late afternoon, their little family spending hours packing her boxes and making sure the dorm was clean before they would head back to her home for the summer. There, she was planning to find herself a place to live with Stella, close enough to campus and to all of their favourite spots across town.

It had been a blissful day, warm and sunny. She remembered how her mother’s hair bounced off her shoulders, sun rays rippling down her long curls while every room filled with her perfume. Caro remembered her father’s laugh, and his brown eyes squinting behind his heavy glasses every time he would tease her about her campus stories. Everyone around them felt as energetic, glad that finals were over and that summer was right around the corner. “Obviously, there were many fraternity parties happening across campus to celebrate the end of the year. A lot of drunk people running around town, yelling, smoking...Driving.” 

Christopher leaned back in his chair, gradually understanding where her story was going. His eyes gazed down at the ground, a heaviness settling in his heart as Caroline continued to speak. “For a long time, I felt guilty for not getting in the car with them. I kept thinking; maybe things would have been different, you know? I could have advised them, guided them away from the mad crowds and the irresponsible drivers.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” He murmured and she sighed, looking back at him. 

“No, I couldn’t, but thinking that didn’t make the feeling go away.” 

“What did?” 

She turned to face the sky again, finding it less intimidating to speak when she wasn’t directly looking at his eyes. Caro knew he had been watching her intently the whole time, eyes reading every single emotion that came across her face. As exposed as she was though, Chris didn’t make her feel invaded. “Nothing. It’s still there. Always will be.” She whispered, simply. “But guilt always comes with the loss of someone in that way. You’ll always wonder if you could have done something to change their faith, anything.”

“Do you drown yourself with work not to think about the pain?” For a moment, her heart stilled. She wanted to deny, fight back on his assumptions, but she remained silent, and felt suddenly very cold.

“I didn’t have much choice.” Was all she murmured, barely able to keep her gaze on him. Chris didn’t flinch back, still attentively looking at her. It was like she was bare, and he could just read her mind. It was terrifying.

“How come?” He kept pushing and she held her breath, body tensing. For some reason, she just couldn’t stop talking. It was like he had put a spell on her. Or maybe it was the alcohol.

“After the...accident,” She cleared her throat, flashes of that awful night coming back to haunt her. “Money did not come as easy. I had enough to switch for nursing school, and was able to work right away. So, yeah, I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to survive.”

Caro heard him scoff, and for a moment felt absolutely insulted that he would mock her experience like that. She faced Chris, ready to snap at him, but the expression on his face was everything but derisive. “Gosh, I’m such a dick.” He shook his head and she raised a brow in question. “Here I am whining about my asshole father dying and leaving us a fortune that’ll last a lifetime, meanwhile you’ve been through hell and you’re still so… undefeated and…” His voice trailed off, guilt ridden, and her irritation died down.

“You didn’t know.” She tried to console him and he only sighed, sulking in his seat.

“I just feel...like crap.” He shrugged, eyes gazing at the sky. He was quiet for a long time, lost in his head and wondering if he should just let it all out. There was so much anger, and guilt in his soul. At his father, his will and how it affected his brother. He had been bottling everything up for past the weeks, trying to find a way to unravel the emotional mess his old man had forged for the past thirty-eight years. It was getting too much. 

And then there was Caroline, the sweet stranger had been so kind and incredibly open. Watching her looking at him so softly, caring even though she barely knew him, it was strange and unexpected but he welcomed it gratefully. 

“You know, all my life I just wanted him to be a dad, to be there.” He began, tone getting resentful. “I never wanted his fucking money. And now he’s dead, and Mickey and I have this shit ton of cash that we don’t even need, that we didn’t work for. Meanwhile there are people like you, who weren’t as lucky, you know, who had their futures taken away, and it’s just so fucking-” He kicked at a rock, watching it bounce on the cement edge. “Unfair.”

“Chris,” Caro interfered, not liking how self-deprecating he was acting. “You shouldn’t feel gross or awful for taking the money. Like you said, it’s the least he could have done.” Instinctively, her hand reached to grasp his arm, squeezing it lightly. His eyes flicked to look at her, filled with a powerful vulnerability that almost shook the air out of her lungs. “But you have the opportunity to do something with it, greater than he could ever. Sure, my situation wasn’t as privileged as yours, but that was my life, and I’m better now. Really. Just because some didn’t have it easy, doesn’t mean you should feel bad for how your life ended up.”

He watched her for a long time, letting her words sink in. Caro wished she could read his mind, understand him and the inner battles he was struggling with. On the first impression, he seemed like such a light character, all smiles and charms, talking about Disney and music. But in the short amount of time they had spent talking with each other, Chris had opened himself up to reveal an unexpected sadness that broke her heart.

“Sometimes,” He sighed, chewing on his lips. “I just want to give it all away. To a charity or something.”

“That’s a good idea. Why don’t you?” Chris shook his head, humourlessly laughing.

“I can’t do that to Mickey.”

“I mean, he doesn’t have to give away his share of the money?” He made a grimace and it piqued her curiosity.

“He...didn’t get anything.” Chris finally admitted after a long silence and her jaw dropped. “You get what I mean now when I say he was an asshole.”

“What in the world.” She sighed, troubled by the revelation. What had Mickey done to deserve such hatred even beyond life? “Can I ask why?”

“Let’s say my little brother is no fan of ladies, and my father was not fond of that idea.” He explained, clearing up her confusion. He glanced at her, uncertain of what her reaction would be, but relaxed back as she didn’t seem to flinch or express repulsion. In fact, Caro’s heart filled with sorrow, thinking of the poor boy who had been rejected by his father so cruelly because of who he loved. What a vile man their father must have been. “So everything is under my name now, and feels dirty and like I’m betraying my brother for accepting it. Worst is, he doesn’t even know that our dad left him nothing. He still thinks his check will be coming up soon.”

“You’re giving Mickey some money, right?” She asked, concerned, and he nodded.

“Of course, I’m not him.” He smiled sadly. “I’m just scared I guess, of telling Mickey what he did, I don’t think he’d be surprised but...” The words were on the tip of his tongue, along with the bitter anger that came with it. “I don’t want to give my father the satisfaction of hurting him one last time.”

“You’re a kind man, Christopher.” With her hand still reposing on his arm, Caro gently caressed his skin with her thumb. He was warm, and so soft for a man of his appearance. The touch seemed to have soothed him, body relaxing in his chair while his gaze remained on hers. “You will find a way to make it better for Mickey. He’ll always be fine, because he has you.”

His lips parted, a wave of appeasement crashing over him as he let her words sink in. She was right, Chris would have never let anything bad happen to his brother. And now, they would be able to be free from their father’s agonizing disinterest and his threats against Mickey. He could feel the terrible guilt of the past few weeks start to dissipate, not entirely, but the future seemed a little less somber. “Kid’s never got to catch a break,” He said. “He deserves it more than me.”

“Was your father also awful to you?” He gave her a side way nod as he chewed on his lip. For a moment there, Chris wondered why it had been so easy to talk with Caroline. The younger woman had squeeze almost everything out of him at this point, but he didn't mind it. He wanted to tell her more. 

“With me, it was mostly the distance.” He admitted, memories of a sorrowful childhood in his father’s company coming back to his mind. “I’ve always been the big, rough guy he expected me to be, unlike Mickey. Didn’t mean he cared more, just that he hurt me less.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He chuckled humorlessly at her words, not wanting to feel more pity for himself. 

“If there’s one thing he taught me, it’s what not to do. I was honestly shocked he left me anything at all.” Caro frowned at his words, wondering what he meant. “Last time we parted wasn’t quite on good terms.”

“How come?” His lips twitched, a little uncertain about how to explain the mess that had been his life before leaving the mansion. 

“We had this huge….Huge argument, about Mickey obviously.” He started, and Caro watched him attentively. “My brother’s a dancer, you see. He does ballet, and you can guess that my father was not jumping at the idea of his son running around in white tights.”

A moment that should have been filled with glee would forever remain bitter for him to remember. Mickey had been cast in a prestigious crew, which back then was the greatest news for the both of them. His hard work had paid off, and Chris, having paid for his brother’s lessons and being his biggest supporter, had never been more proud. For once, there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel for Mickey, who had struggled with so much for so long. 

But the wonderful news travelled around town, everyone glad to hear about Mickey’s success, and as the son of the most powerful man in their city, the announcement reached him too. Chris remembered how the man had summoned them to his office that following evening, threatening Mickey with vile words if he didn’t refuse the offer. “How dare you humiliate this family and defile our reputation with your disgusting behavior!” Was amongst the things he had spat at his younger brother’s face, who had been too young at the time to exert any sort of power to fight back against their father. And he had made Chris watch it all, menacing to shut down the garage or his chances to ever start another business again if he were to continue funding Mickey’s passion. Their old man hadn’t hesitated to express his disappointment and disgust that both of his sons were participating in such antics. 

“That was our last straw. Mickey wasn’t going to give up on the opportunity of a lifetime, and I was too old to let that man control my life any longer.” He shrugged, Caro hoping there was at least a good ending to his story. “So we told him to fuck off, packed our bags and left this hell hole.”

“That’s why your garage is so far, I wondered.” She replied and he chuckled a ‘yeah’. “What happened to Mickey?”

“Well, after a couple years working in Boston, he made it into the American Ballet Theatre in New York.” Her face lit up, genuinely relieved that Chris’s brother had realized his dream despite their father’s attempt to hold him back. “So yeah, we hadn’t talked to him since then. Well, until the butler called and said father was on his deathbed.”

Caro grimaced, worried that Chris would fall back into a morose state but he sighed deeply, actually seeming serene. “Did you actually get to see him?” He pursed his lips, lightly nodding.

“He was...thankfully not able to talk. But it was strange, seeing a man that had been so imposing and menacing our whole life, reduced to someone so frail.” His eyes were focused on the moon, searching for the right words to express meeting his father again. “It had been a good decade since we had last seen him, and I guess the hateful emotions he harboured for us consumed him. It’s honestly the only end he deserved.”

“At least, now you and Mickey are free. Will you come back to live here?” She asked and he looked at her for a solid moment, a strange light shimmering in his eyes.

“I used to think there was nothing that could hold me back here. I’m not too sure about that anymore.” A faint smile appeared on his lips, the soft expression making her blush. Caro tried not to read too into his words, knowing it was too early to remotely let her heart imagine things. “I don’t have the same view at my garage.” Chris motioned at the backyard and the sight of the moon and the stars above them.

“That is an especially great view.” She replied. “And a beautiful house to live in. Good for parties.” She teased, making him laugh under his breath. 

“It has its perks. Although, it does need to be filled with more positive energy now,” He hummed. “Or I could sell it.”

“And what will you be doing with all that money?” He pondered her question, lightly shrugging.

“I have my business, and I’ve been working long enough to be able to afford everything I need.” His eyes scrunched, yet he still looked absolutely mesmerizing. “I don’t know. What would you do with it?”

Caro felt a little stunned for being put under the spotlight, not quite sure how to answer him. She chuckled nervously, sipping on her beer to give herself time to think. What would she do if she were a millionaire? “I don’t know. I guess...I’d go back to school, you know, become the doctor I wanted to be.”

His eyebrows curved up, surprised by her admission. He seemed perplexed, yet impressed. “And here I was about to say I’d buy myself a new motorcycle.” They both chuckled, Caro rolling her eyes at his words.

“Of course. Men and their toys.” He feigned offence, lightly nudging her shoulder. “Wait, are you the guy who arrived on the bike earlier? That thing was louder than the party.”

“Don’t insult Jolene, she can hear you.” Caro couldn’t help but laugh at his reply, everything about him sounding more and more unexpected. “She’s the most important lady in my life.”

She bit her lip, trying hard not to give him a look of pity but he caught on her expression before she could hide it away. “Do you realize how sad that sounds? Jolene, really?”

“The love of my life.” He smirked, raising his bottle in a cheer. Caro looked at him, dumbfounded, and with giggles on the verge of bursting through her lips.

“And I assume others can’t compare.” She said, trying to gather a little more insight on his romantic life. Caro was not one to court taken men, or anyone for that matter. She had always been too busy to remotely think about it, letting herself be attached to someone was terrifying and she had avoided it at all cost. 

Relationships meant exposing the burden of her soul and her past, something she had feared to do for the past decade. Yet there was Chris, who had charmed his way into her heart in a single night, and made the thought of caring for someone not so awful after all. 

A look came across his eyes, and a smirk pulled at his lips. “For a long time, I thought no one could compete.” He said softly and Caro realized he was playing with the lyrics of the song. She pursed her lips, trying to hide the fond smile creeping on her face, and decided she too could play along.

“Her voice is not soft like summer rain. She roars like a tractor.” His laughter echoed loudly, the sound ringing like pleasant bells in her ears and the melancholy that had clouded them was slowly lifting up.

“You really do know your music, don’t you?” He grinned, leaning on his chair to look at her closely. She blushed, the new proximity feeling a little intimidating because Chris was so... But she didn’t mind it.

“I guess that’s my little embarrassing fact of the night.” She had finally answered him and he practically beamed. “You’re satisfied now?”

“I knew you weren’t boring, sweet Caroline.” He winked at her and the simple gesture made her heart squeeze, it was practically unbearable. It was becoming hard to stay in the same space as him without feeling like she was about to completely burst into flames. 

If it would have been anyone else, Caro would have felt the usual twinge of annoyance at the reference. But her name rolled off his tongue so nicely, and it made her heart flutter. The fact that a man she had just met had managed not only to make her spill her deepest secret in a matter of minutes, but also to make her heart twirl in her chest when he would pronounce her name, should be petrifying. And it was, a big part of her was mortified at how fast she had become entranced by Christopher, but he had made it so easy. 

“Look at the night, and it don’t seem so lonely.” Her breath halted as Chris whispered the lyrics softly, humming the melody under his breath, and it brought a smile on her face. It wasn’t just interest now, she was getting deeply smitten. 

“We fill it up with only two…” She continued, and Caro swore she could see the colour of his cheeks change. It was almost surreal, how beautiful he looked at that very moment. The moon shone brightly on his visage, the light cascaded down his round cheekbones, and curled around his full lips pulled into a tender smile, while his ocean blue eyes shimmered as they bore into hers. Caroline wanted to lean in, she wanted to know how his lips felt like, if they were as soft as her infatuated mind was believing them to be.

Everything felt warm, maybe because it was the middle of July, or maybe because Chris was overwhelming. The smell of his cologne on the shirt he had given her was still exhilarating, but now she could practically feel him glow, his aura making her heart thunder in her chest.

A familiar melody echoed from downstairs, Caro immediately recognizing the hit song and her heart dropped. It couldn’t have been possible! Out of all the songs that could have played at this very moment, it had to be this one. She was speechless, eyes wide in shock while Chris’s face lit up, smile widening as he too couldn’t believe his ears.

“Is this for real right now?” She blurted out and he bit his lip, starting to bob his head as the music got louder.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing.” He sang while snapping his fingers and a goofy expression on his face. “But then I know it’s growing strong.” Her jaw fell as she watched him sing along, a new energy coming to him. A mischievous grin started to grow on his face and he suddenly jumped on his feet, hips slowly swaying as he continued to chant and Caro couldn’t hold her giggles any longer. 

“Hands, touching hands, reaching out,” Her stupor at the coincidence had faded, now replaced by genuine glee as she watched him shout the words of a song she had disliked for so long, but now sounded like the most beautiful melody when it came from him. For such a big man, Chris definitely knew how to make his body flow with the music effortlessly, it was entrancing.“Touching me, touching you...” 

“Sweet Caroline!” He belted out, his voice several tones lower than Neil Diamond’s, but still sounding surprisingly pleasant. “Good times never seemed so good!”

“I can’t believe you actually know the lyrics.” She said over the music while Chris continued to dance and grin from ear to ear. Caro couldn’t help herself from moving to the air as she remained in her seat, shaking her head at how ridiculous he looked. It was strange, watching him go from gloomy to this lighter self, practically bouncing to the notes beating through the roof. Yet, she was entirely enchanted. “Or that you know how to dance.”

“I spent five years driving Mickey to ballet classes, I know a thing or two about dancing.” He retorted and she laughed, amused. Chris shuffled closer and extended his hand for her to take, a large smile on his face. Realizing what he was doing, she shook her head and tried to escape his reach. “No, no! That is not happening.”

“Oh yes. C’mon, Caroline,” He pressed, his charming grin as glowing as ever while she continued to shake her head. “Don’t be so square. The chorus’ coming up again.” Mildly offended by how Chris called her, she scoffed and took a large sip of her drink. She tried to look everywhere but at his hand calling for hers, and his eyes practically begging for her to get up and dance with him. “I know you want to.” He winked at her, and just like that, every fighting will in her body vanished in a second. Caro was done for.

“Sweet Caroline!” They both yelled, Caroline finally up on her feet and rolling her hips as ridiculously as Chris was doing. “Good times never seemed so good!”

They started dancing closer, until she could feel his hands on her waist, swaying with her movements. “I’d be inclined,” They could hear the crowd below belt out the lyrics of the hit song, the beats vibrating under their feet, electrifying her senses. “To believe they never would.”

Caro hadn’t quite realized how close they were standing, and she could feel his warm breath roll on her skin. She felt Chris inch closer as the melody slowed down, blue eyes glancing at her lips and Caro knew exactly what was about to happen. Maybe it was something in the air, or the smell of his intoxicating cologne, but she let Chris pull her in for a thrilling kiss that was so gentle, it took her breath away.

This wasn’t her, she never let herself be familiar with strangers, let alone at a boozy party. Yet, there was something about his aura that felt reassuring, it was comforting even. Her heart was beating through her chest, making her entire body pulsate with the electrifying feeling of having Chris wrapped around her. His fingers rested on her waist, while his lips, soft as silk and more delightful than she could have ever expected them to be, moved with hers. Chris tasted like mint, fresh yet he was incredibly warm, and his beard pricked at her skin enough to send shivers down her spine. 

It was overwhelming, but Caro adored every second of it. How their bodies melted into a hug so tight, in fear of the other walking away. They were slow dancing as the song faded away, under brilliant stars and a moon that shone so bright upon them. 

She felt submerged by his presence, cocooned in his warm embrace, wrapped in the music and arms that strangely felt like home. And, for the first time in her life, Caroline didn’t want to escape the feeling of longing for someone else.

[xntrek]

2018 - A year of discovery, crying, depression, loss, rejection ... and not necessarily in that order.

It all started, as most things do, with a drink.

— more —

For years I knew I was different, that my emotions were not the same as others, that I felt things in weird ways and with that came a way of interacting with others that was ,,, different to standard societal norms.

I always knew that I could love multiple people, equally and equitably - at the same time. No one else around me was the same, and everything - movies, stories, fairytales, counsellers, therapists - tells us that love is some kind of pie that apparently you need to decide how to slice up - because there is a limited supply of it.

That was never true for me.

My love is bottles. Each person gets one, and the more I love you, the more bottles I fill on your shelf. Those bottles never go away either. I may no longer have you in my life, but those bottles remain - getting dusty, but as full as always. Even ex-partners who have wronged me still have their bottles - sure, there may be warnings or a cross-and-skullbone label on them, but the love, it’s still there.

Late last year I met someone who finally gave me a name for people like me. Polyamorous. Yet, in my initial research I didn’t think I was one of them. Most of the literature is either based on “technical polyamory” relationships or on those more inclined to what I referred to as the “poly sexual” group - namely the swinger set and those addicted to the NRE (New Relationship Energy) high.

But I did find others who were like me, and for a while that was enough.

But, as I said, it all started with a drink - and someone who I was attracted to, who I was avoiding because I wasn’t meant to have those feelings for, who I wasn’t meant to crave or desire or in any way have - she told me she wanted me.

Now, you have to understand something else - no one has ever said that to me before. Ever.

I’ve been with Ingrid for 25 years. We love each other. I know she loves me. But she never wanted me. We met under confused messages, we found ourselves together. We have worked through a lot of things over the years. But she never wanted me. Worse, she rejected me, more than thrice - and yet I forgave and we kept going. But this entry isn’t about that.

With the discovery of “my people” and thus the fact I was not a “freak” and the impetus of this wonderful person who awoke a part of me I had forgotten existed - I asked, although she tells me I practically demanded - that I be allowed to explore this part of me. She agreed, but apparently it was because she felt she had to or risk losing me ... so I found out later.

I set up a few dating accounts - tinder, OK Cupid, FetLife - and she even helped me to do so. I had the young lady who had expressed her interest in me, but thought that since she had a boyfriend (she wasn’t a poly), worked with me and had expressed her desire while very drunk that nothing more was ever to come of it.

That was incorrect.

We started seeing each other. It was wonderful. It made me happy.

But then Ingrid realised it was real. She had originally asked me not to tell her who I was seeing, but due to my stupidity and incorrect assumptions, she discovered who this woman was ... and it was no longer ok.

This was just as I headed off to the united states in May.

In New Orleans, at the Collision Conferance, I met another woman - she was intelligent and gorgeous, everything I would have described as a perfect subject of my “weird science” experiment if I had been given that power ... we synced on so many levels ... except she did not see me in that way, at all. Story of my life really.

We became friends though, and it turned out she was the Ingrid in her relationship with a poly ... so we talked and talked and I saw her point of view, and thus understood Ingrid’s better as well.

I came back to Australia and the pieces of the wreck that was my relationship was still there to sort out. But first I need to back track to March 2017 to catch you up on the other half of my life that was crashing down at the same time - work.

In 2017, the multinational I was working for merged with another. Combined, it became a corporation of 170,000 individuals world-wide. Prior to the merger, I was the Divisional COO - the operations lead for a division of four practices and 400 people at its peak. Due to the magic of McKinsey, my role was merged with that of the acquired group and the role was offered to the individual with the University degrees, not the one who was already in the function (i.e. me), So, over the next 6 months, I had to manage the transition of the staff over to the new divisional organisation, including the graduate programme cohorts I was managing ... until i was left without a department, a team or a group of young minds I had been enjoying helping set up their careers and development.

Fast forward to June 2018 and the various avenues I had been exploring in the new corporation were all drying up - the CTO function for two seperate divisions I was in the running for were both de-funded and thus dead in the water. The leadership role for a Digital Transformation Center that partnered with a local university, also died for the same reason. The Principle Consultant role was re-classified as an associate level and the three suggestions I offered for new roles were all declined.

So there I was - home and work life both in shambles.

Due to the machinations of beaurocracy, my last pitch demand from my previous director to “give me a job that actually makes use of me or pay me out” became a decision to do the latter - but that would take another three months to actually implement.

During this time, Ingrid and I were trying to determine what to do. Although she claimed she felt I had given her an ultimatum with my request, she now gave me one ... remain monogamous or we have to go our seperate ways.

We got a therapist - we went on a relationship therapy weekend ... we have talked and we understand each other a little better ... but ultimately nothing has changed.

So, come September 1, 2018 I was out of a job with a redundancy payment, a relationship that was broken, a lover who couldn’t be mine and an emotional state that was rougher than a perfect storm seascape.

Over the last few months I have had to try and regain some of my professional confidence - something I am still working on - but ultimately came to the conclusion that I wanted my work life to have some real meaning - a purpose that was greater than profit.

A dream job came up - the CTOO role for the Movember organisation - but i missed out on that due to their dream candidate being available and ready to start. So, that hurt, regardless of how logical and reasonable the choice for them was.

I forked out 20K from my redundancy to hire an outplacement service. They’ve been good - helping me with my CV, networking, LinkedIn, etc. However, as I said, I wanted a purpose greater than profit ... so I sunk another 50K into starting a business. From scratch.

I’m sitting here at 3am on a Thursday morning, on my back porch - smoking. Oh yeah, I returned to my self-destructive habit of coping by swallowing my emotions and my self-loathing one drag at a time.

I have a lover who is done with me.

I have a partner who is happy with the way things are and doesn’t want anything to change.

I have no job.

I have a business with no clients.

I have a rapidly declining bank account.

I have my MDD slamming my emotions harder than a screen door in a storm.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot - I discovered something else about myself this year. As part of a therapy session to deal with my eating disorder - I discovered that even under the power of suggestion, I couldn’t find a “safe and happy place”. My life has been tumultuous to say the least ... but the thing that gets me, is that almost all of the therapy options rely on building you back up by finding this magical place and using it as a foundation.

So, yeah. That’s great. What happens when you don’t have a foundation stone?

So - that’s been my 2018. Crying. Depression. Rejection. Loss. Basically a general sense of dystopic hopelessness.

If I survive the “festive season” I can only hope that 2019 is a fucktonne better.

It has to be, right?

[mummapaintstheblues]

From A Bench In Konoha

3AM prompt! Week 3 Day 3 KakaSaku month! This is a very weird and out of my comfort zone kind of thing. I mean... I wrote a whole fic from the point of view of a bench... You know that one that Obito and Rin sit on, and Kakashi hangs out around? That one. I hope it isn’t too weird for you but I AM TRYING TO EVOLVE DAMMIT. (I can’t answer any questions about why the bench is thinking, sorry, I might be going insane)

Also, I read some intense smut today that ruined me. So 2k of FLUFF.

Despite the temperature of the night and the first flecks of snow beginning to fall upon its back, there was no lack of warmth.

Not that a bench could feel warmth to begin with. But this was not the kind that provided mere heat. This was the warmth one felt in the presence of loved ones, a comforting kind that dispelled goosebumps elicited by the darkness of the night. Not physical by any means but no less a force of nature.

While benches didn't have any concept of time it was aware that this was an out of the ordinary occurrence.

All the busy ones (which is what it referred to them as, how was a bench to have any concept of names after all?) had long since retreated to wherever they went. The bench liked to think that they were constantly moving, as they appeared to be during the day, until the moment they saw a special place to sit.

But when the pinpricks of light speckled in the distance the people seemed to have no time to sit here. They gravitated to that light and stayed away until the warmth of the sun reappeared, leaving a lonely bench waiting toward the gates of the village for its next special person to stop. And it certainly had its favourites.

One was currently seated in the trees above. The casual rustling of pages was usually his giveaway, but it was very dark so there was no way he could be staring fixed at the bound papers he always carried. Instead he just simply sat, completely still, sighing every so often and murmuring to himself or to the carved mountainside.

This was one of the all time favourites as far as people went. The one that made regular visits throughout the year. Long ago he sat with others on the bench, but now he was very alone. Or with that overly energetic one.

That was how the bench managed to tell them apart. The noisy one, the one that stuttered around the noisy one, the one that never smiled.

The favourite person in the trees had always been the lonely one. All his people had come and gone, sometimes the bench considered itself the only constant. Something horrible must have happened again for him to be visiting at this hour.

With delight the bench registered another warmth, a very familiar one too. Not as regular a visitor as the other special person, but still a favourite nonetheless.

Not many people spent a whole night sleeping on a bench outside after all, and it wasn't likely to forget that.

She sighed as she sat, shuddering a little at the cold, or something else. A lone tear fell upon the seat. The crying one. That's right, she'd been crying that night as well.

“Sakura?”

“Kakashi sensei… sorry I didn't see you. What are you doing up there?”

They knew each other. Interesting. The lonely one jumped down to stand just in front of the crying one. What the hell was a Sakura anyway?

“Oh, you know. Normal night time activities.”

“Sitting in trees?”

“Yup.”

“It's 3am?”

The Kakashi shuffled in a gesture that made the crying one huff in a sort of way that might have been a laugh. But it didn't entirely stop her flow of tears, they broke through the brave facade tumbling onto the concrete.

“Hey, what's going on? It's been awhile since I've seen you like this.”

She sobbed, he sat beside her. The bench registered the tentative and reluctant way he put a hand over top of hers.

It became difficult to discern the words she sputtered out after that. 'Nothing we could do’ seemed to be the punchline before her entire being crumpled into misery.

“I guess you don't lose a lot of patients, being so good at what you do.” The lonely one was obviously at a loss for words, and it was easy to tell, it wasn’t as if he’d ever spoken much to anyone else. He seemed to be more comfortable talking to inanimate objects than people. “I can’t promise you it will ever get easier Sakura, or if time will lessen the burden. Time has a funny way of bringing that pain back to the surface sometimes, even years later when you don’t expect it. But I can guarantee one thing…”

“What’s that?”

It was a rarity to have the lonely one smiling as he spoke.

“Well, a lot of good things will happen. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next week even. But they will happen, and keep happening too, you can’t stop them. Bit by bit it will allow you to breathe again and then it won’t all be so bad. Trust me.”

The crying one had stopped crying. Wiping the water marks left by tears with her free hand before patting the larger one of his that still enveloped hers. With a nod, and an almost smile, she sniffled before she spoke.

“I think that’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me sensei.”

“That would be about right.” He sounded mildly irritated and her smile faded. “It’s true, you are very good at what you do. The best, so I’ve heard.”

A grin. The bench felt warmer.

“You really know how to sweet talk a girl huh?”

The smirk at her words faded quickly. He was still displeased at something unspoken, though she seemed to be much happier. Whatever it was caused him to shift, and tense, almost taking his hand away from hers. But she seemed to understand how this one worked, intertwining her fingers with his in such a way it was impossible for any escape. They were looking at each other now in a way a bench would probably never fathom.

“Sakura, I’m sorry…”

It was difficult to tell exactly what he was sorry for by the sombre tone in which he spoke. The girl shook her head.

“It’s alright. You never need to apologize to me sensei, for anything.” A nod of understanding passed between them. Obviously he had been apologizing for more than one thing. “Besides, I’m not that girl who needs to fish for compliments anymore. I’m all grown up.”

“I noticed.”

A soft chuckle from the both of them as she leant over to nudge his shoulder. Then there was silence for a while. Comfortable and quiet. The bench revelled in having its people so close during what was usually a cold and lonely time of night, it wondered if they both felt that way too.

“You never said what you were doing out here, in a tree at 3am?”

“You never told me why you came here either.”

There was another look that passed between them and an exasperated sigh escaped the girl.

“Fine. I’ll go first.” A nod of agreement. “I just... come here sometimes. Not often, just when everything seems hopeless and rockbottom. Like that night Sasuke left me here on this bench.”

“The first time or the second time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” It did not sound funny in the slightest but the bench never claimed to fully understand humans. “The first time, to be exact. It reminds me of how far I’ve come. Makes me feel a little less hopeless, I was hoping for that tonight. That second time was a mutual understanding, by the way…”

“Oh really? Understanding huh?”

“Yes. He understands that should he even attempt to breathe too closely to me again, I’ll punch him so hard they’ll have to find the atoms of his stupid pretty face before they reconstruct it…”

Laughter, from the both of them. A small shuffle closer. It was a cold night after all. Their arms were touching now and there was a new kind of warmth.

“So.”

“So…?”

No words, but Sakura (so he kept calling her) made a face at him.

“Oh right. Why I’m here. Well, I could make some excuse about falling asleep on that branch this afternoon, but truthfully…” It seemed difficult again for him to form words. A shuddering sigh, a swallow. “Honestly, I couldn’t really tell you. I find myself here a lot when…”

He trailed off. She finished the sentence for him.

“Things come back to the surface?”

A nod.

There was silence again for a moment. Broken by a voice that was in a completely unfamiliar tone from the lonely one. At least unfamiliar for the bench.

“Back in the day, before… well. I used to spend a lot of time here with my old team. One of us was always never far away from this spot. We used to fight to get here first some days.”

“You mean Obito?”

A nod, and another pause.

“I forget sometimes that you actually met him. The Obito I remember was quite different to the one you met though.”

She smiles again. It doesn’t falter as she speaks.

“Would you tell me about him? The Obito that you knew?”

For some reason it feels like a heavy request, especially in the nervous way she grips her knee with her free hand and the heavy exhale from Kakashi. A longer pause. This girl seems to know to be patient with the lonely one, sympathy from a fellow lone wanderer perhaps. But she had always been the most loving and caring of the favourite people, highlighted that night she begged the dark and lost one to take her with him. The bench was glad that he had left her behind on its safe surface.

Kakashi appeared to be thinking. His words bubbling out at first as if they had been carefully weighed and measured before breaking.

“I don’t know what to tell you. He was certainly one of a kind. If I had to go into detail, I’d say he was more like Naruto in our early Team 7 days, but now that I think about it he was a little like you as well.”

“What, a crybaby know-it-all?”

He laughed.

“Crybaby definitely. And a know-it-all too I suppose, as in he thought he knew everything but, like Naruto, was wrong about ninety percent of the time. His enthusiasm was flawless though.”

There was more laughter. Their knees were now brushing against each other as the lonely one kept talking. He talked so much it was too hard for the bench to follow what was happening. But it didn’t need the words to understand the communication between them.

He spoke, of funny things judging by the way the girl laughed, it was nice not to see her not crying for a change. He babbled about other things that seemed to be quite serious or frightening in the way she gripped his hand tighter and gasped a fraction. Then it turned to sadness, at some particularly painful part he had just stopped talking, unable to continue. He sat hunched over as if the words deflated him, escaping without his express permission rendering his body useless.

Sakura leant into his shoulder, it almost caused him to startle at the contact, just the smallest of jerks could be felt.

“Your Obito sounds like a good person.”

“Mmm.”

“Thank you for telling me about him.”

A small nod. There seemed to be no words left in the lonely one to speak anymore. Sakura knew exactly how to ease him and break the tension.

“Just a small query. How is that lady still allowed to own cats? We were looking the damned things for her ten years after you and your team!”

A small chuckle. This was obviously to do with the funny thing from earlier that had been hard to follow.

“Now Sakura, that’s no reason to give up on the entire species. Even if all cats are terrible creatures.”

“Oh, right. Dog person. I forgot. Still, I guess some people have more money than sense.”

“There’s that too. I think it’s more that people just shouldn’t own cats.” Another chuckle from the both of them. “Well it’s true isn’t it? There’s no loyalty, you get nothing in return for the partnership, they keep trying to leave you…”

“Like Sasuke?”

Dead silence. It was getting hard to follow again, she shifted her head off his shoulder to look him in the eye.

“Did you… just compare him to a cat?”

A nod.

Suddenly there was lots of laughs. Proper eye watering laughter, the kind that would have made the bench laugh too if it had any inclination or understanding on what was going on. Or what laughter was to begin with. It seemed happy though.

It continued for a bit, until it began to peeter out. Sakura nudging his shoulder again, they were pretty much lined up next to each other on that bench now. When he nudged her back and caught her eye something changed. It was palpable. Even to the bench.

The last few shakes of laughter disappeared as their faces now inched ever closer together, until they too were touching.

There was a muffled kind of silence that was not unfamiliar, people had been known to commit this kind of thing while sitting here on occasion. It was an action that seemed to be pleasant for both parties, even if it was a complete mystery.

A sigh, a muffled moan, the shuffling of clothes and bodies. Like they were devouring each other. When their lips parted they still kept their faces close, touching everywhere else. It was a heavy pause as they panted together from the activity.

“What was that?”

He spoke so quietly in between breaths, like he wanted her to be the only one to hear his voice. Like he was terrified of anyone else overhearing, a ludicrous concept at this time of night. She pretended to look thoughtful with a smile that didn’t seem likely to disappear, her arms were wrapped around his neck.

“Well, you did warn me something good would happen. Figured I should give it a head start.”

He was now smiling too, in a different way than ever before. In an open way.

“Thank god. I’ve been waiting for months to…”

He was cut off mid sentence by her lips. They appeared to be melting into each other. It was that bright and comforting warmth again, but tenfold. None of them felt the cold of the snow falling, felt the cold of loneliness or the night air, none of it. There was only warmth and happiness. After minutes of this shuffling and electric silence, Sakura abruptly stood, there was a questioning stare.

“Kakashi, it’s 3am.”

There was a begrudging nod and he stood too. Then she leant on her toes to whisper something in his ear.

“Come home with me?”

It was a question. A grin graced his features before he nodded and pulled the mask back to its usual spot. Stealing her hand they disappeared into the darkness, towards one of those little specks of light, a bench back to its regular night time solitude.

It was pleased that the lonely one now was not so lonely, someone was with him. And the crying one was no longer crying either. Huh.

It would need another way to tell them apart now.

Kakashi and Sakura. That would do.

[mind-the-margin]

That Night

This year has been a bit of a brutal awakening for me. Up until now, I’ve kind of bumbled through life, tripping over my own feet and keeping quiet and getting the fuck on with all the hard shit. I was woken, rather rudely in May.

Now, I’ll warn you that there’s quite a bit of doom and gloom, although maybe not as much death as I would have liked. My humour is dark to reflect the utter void that exists in place of soul but hey ho!

I don’t quite know where I should begin so I’ll just start somewhere in the middle and fumble around in the dark- as I am used to.

On 25 May 2018 at approximately 11pm I consumed 100 aspirin tablets. I wasn’t thinking straight but the only conviction I had was that I did not wish to live. I did not want to live. That wasn’t the first instance that I had planned my death, but it was the first time I had actually gone through with it. To be honest, some part of me must have realised that it wouldn’t be my only attempt because I had bought a shit load of other drugs as well. (All perfectly legal I feel I must stress.)

This story is equally about my first and most pathetic love as it is about me. See, I told this person, let’s call him Bob, at about 12am that I had overdosed and that I was dying. Bob decided he was tired of hearing about death, so he simply turned off his phone and went to sleep.

My naivety coupled with my unconditional love for Bob led me to the belief that he was maybe driving to come see me. That he was so desperately worried for me that he loved me, and he would show it. Poor Alisha, I was so horribly wrong.

At around 2am I realised that I was dying. My ears were ringing so loud it felt like they were weeping blood. My eyes were weeping themselves and I had thrown up a little. I remember that the last time I ate was a Kinder Bueno- what a beautiful last taste. Months later, I cannot bear to eat the chocolate without feeling nauseous, although this may also be attributed to the fact that it was mine and Bob’s “thing”.

Fuck Bob- I feel that it is important to stress how much I wish I could hate him for that night.

My head was spinning both clockwise and anti-clockwise. I could not stand up straight. I don’t know how but I made it down the hallway and knocked on my friend’s door. She opened up and asked me what was wrong, I was trembling from head to toe. I thrust the empty pill bottle into her hands. She asked me what was wrong, I told her I had taken the whole bottle.

I remember crying on her floor, realising that death was ugly and that I didn’t want to go out this way. I remember feeling so hopeless and so so lost. I was so lost. Overwhelmingly so. I had my phone clutched by me, so sure he would call or text or do something, anything.

I don’t remember much but I remember how much the silence twisted uncomfortably in my stomach like the jagged edge of a dagger.

We got to the hospital at around 3am, all thanks to A and none to the two ambulances that never arrived. I remember I needed shoes and F got them from my room but in my daze I was only fixated on wanting my trainers. What a strange thing to be focused on when your insides are screaming at the havoc you’ve wrought, when you’re dying.

We were sat in A&E for ages. I threw up a lot. Sorry to both A and F who had to witness that and the countless strangers in the waiting area. I remember seeing an emergency doctor and she kept asking me what happened. My mind was so convoluted, I could understand her but it was like I had forgotten how to speak. I had been on the verge of passing out for about an hour and I was focusing on staying awake.

They took my bloods and my blood sugar, and I was fed some anti-nausea medicine through a drip. I was taken to the recess area where several doctors monitored me, I had 32 grams of aspirin in my bloodstream. It was 6am I think, when F left. I was so tired but I couldn’t sleep and I was so exhausted after being grilled by everyone.

I texted Bob, I told him it would be best if we broke up. I was still in the danger-zone. The full extent of the danger I was in was probably best realised by my friends. I was still texting and acting normal, even when they did not know whether I would live, or whether my organs would fail, or my heart would give up or I would internally bleed.

Sometimes, I wish I had given my phone to A so she could’ve explained it all to Bob in a way he would have realised the gravity of the situation.

He didn’t come. I begged him and still he didn’t come. He didn’t call. He aired all of my calls. I think the girl he claimed to have loved died that night. I died that night. Even afterwards, when his excuses had ran out he did not come.

He said a lot of things in anger, things I do not know why I had already forgiven him for. I was in the hospital for 5 days. I missed him, I couldn’t sleep and I cried at night when I thought the nurses were not watching me. Everyone in the hospital was awfully nice to me, I guess they all knew why I was there. It felt like there was this constant itch I couldn’t scratch, but in some ways it was nice.

Amna stayed with me until Sunday night I think, until the doctors were sure I was out of danger. I was very much out of it for the first 3 days or so. I remember waking up really groggy and seeing my friends at the foot of my bed. The doctors had tried to convince me to tell my parents but I was adamant they couldn’t know. They still don’t know.

This is the worst secret I have had to keep.

My friends called, the few that I had told. And some came to see me. I was very weak and just tired of life. I felt grimy holed up in that hospital. The irony doesn’t escape me.

I went home after having had a psych evaluation. The Crisis team had arranged to meet me very few days to make sure I wouldn’t try offing myself again. I was on bed rest for a week but it only lasted a few days before my impatience and the monotony made me feel insane.

I never know how to end whenever I tell people about this. People tend to ask, “do you regret it?” or want me to express my newfound desire to live. I’d be lying if I said either of those things, and I often lie so people would just leave me alone. The truth is that recovery is not that simple and healing is not pretty. It’s not scented candles and journal entries. It’s more like burning pictures of Bob (this only happened once but I kind of want to redo it since I think he deserves worse). It’s crying at 3am and being unable to sleep; it’s antidepressants that make you numb as fuck; it’s breaking down when you remember that night again and again; it’s feeling so fucking lost, like you’ve lost everything.

I lost a lot of people, my first love being one of those. But the person who cared most is the one that left the biggest loss, me. I lost myself and I don’t know whether I’ve even managed to gather all my pieces and tape them together yet, but I know that there so many pieces that are missing.

I’ve been getting bad again lately. And fake friends don’t really help so I cut everyone off and deactivated a lot of my social media. But you know what? As much as I am afraid of never completing myself, of never recovering fully. I know that I’m the most important person in my life. And I don’t need people like Bob to have my back because those kinds of people are only ever invested in themselves and all they do is take and take.

All I’ve done for the longest time is give and give and give until my rivers run dry and I am left to die thirsty. I am done giving. I am done crossing oceans for people who would not even cross a puddle for me.