#i’m so sorry you had to go through something similar sweetpea

[inkykeiji]

i was just completely blown away by your post about agnes and what you said, it really really really resonated with me. i relate to everything you said and i remember reading in a post a while back that he was in the hospital and you felt conflicted about seeing him. i understand that. i also have a complicated relationship with my dad and i just love him so much but i could also be so upset with him because of the things he's done to me and my sister and my mom. oo i can't type too much!! -🧁

oh wow cupcake, thank you so much for this!!! i really appreciate hearing your thoughts, and it’s once again super comforting to hear that there’s someone else who can relate to it as well <33

tw: mentions of drugs + abuse

family in and of itself as a concept can be and often is so incredibly complex, especially when there’s something like drugs and/or abuse thrown into the mix. a lot of people (esp people online, i find) like to act as if these relationships are black and white, as if these feelings and these experiences can be easily and neatly sorted into defined categories when the fact of the matter is, they aren’t, and they can’t. obviously, abuse is bad—this is an objective fact we can all agree on. but when that abuse comes from a family member, a parent, someone who was supposed to be there for you and raise you and love you, it really muddies things.

i love my father, but i do not like him. i am hoping i can find it in me to forgive him for what he’s done to us before he dies, but i’m not sure it’ll happen. i still hold so much anger and bitterness and just generally negative feelings towards him, and in my twenty-something years on this earth i have only JUST begun to work through this shit. and he doesn’t have much time left.

[inkblot22]

Can You Keep A Little Secret?

JFC this took me longer than usual I'm so sorry anon. I sort of explained it before, but I didn't exactly use your prompt, based on ineptitude on my part. After I finish reading Oshi no Ko, I might try again! Line divider by @/cafekitsune.

This fic is aimed towards sort of everyone, but the reader possesses afab features (they don't come into play until later, this chapter has no mention of them.) You'll understand what I mean by it being for everyone if you read the first paragraph or so. It has to do with suspending your belief/ employing your imagination.

TW for: lots of confusion, semi-shy reader, creep behavior, mention of death, mention of lobotomy/grippy sock jail, reincarnation. These warnings will get worse, and this takes place when all characters are 18+.

Waking up was never your favorite part of the day, but that feeling increases tenfold when you wake up in someone else’s body. You know for sure you didn’t look like this last week, and the name on your ID is similar to your own, but you don’t recognize the face in the mirror. Whoever you’re inhabiting has a few similar features to your own, but your skin was never this dewy, your eyes never so… hollow and strange. 

When you looked up your name, you found out that you, or your body, at least, had died in your sleep. When you looked up the name on that ID, you found out that you’re the child of some big business man and a prolific model, and you apparently dabble in acting. Your dad isn’t your dad, but he calls you every night to make sure you’re settling into your “new” apartment. Your mom isn’t your mom, but she has popped by once or twice to ask you how you’ve been and make you really good food. She mentioned last night that your acting instructor was worried, since you hadn’t attended your Thursday classes, and also that your agent has been trying to contact you. You didn’t know you had an agent.

When you called your agent, who was literally just titled “Agent” in your new phone, she sounded relieved then irritated, chiding you for living the high life too fast. She said you weren’t popular or loved enough to go on week-long benders, and then she mentioned that she had a job for you and she’d see you on Thursday. According to this phone that isn’t yours, Thursday was tomorrow. 

You made a night of getting prepared- slathering on the fancy face masks, trying on various outfits, scrolling through the pictures on the phone of your new body in the past, painting your really gorgeous nails- and then you went to sleep and woke up to a phone call from your new dad. 

“Hi, sweetheart!”

“Uh… hi, Dad…” You mumbled. You didn’t know him from Adam, but there was no point in being rude to him.

He pauses, and then he speaks slowly, “Did you hear from your agent, honey?”

“Yeah- yeah I did, uh, I have acting class in a little, and she said she has a job for me.”

“Oh, I’m glad to hear it! You know you can always visit me if something is wrong, okay? Just call me or Devin and he’ll come get you as soon as possible.”

You don’t know who Devin is, but you don’t point it out, “Of course. Thank you, dad.”

There was another pause. This one stretches out for a while and then he mumbles, “Okay… love you, sweetpea.”

“Uh… love you too. I’ll call you when I get back home?”

“Sure thing. Bye bye.”

The call ends with a click and you hop in the shower, trying to scrub away the confusion. You pair the lotion with a body spray that makes you smell like a summer afternoon in an apple orchard, and then you dress yourself in a soft off the shoulder sweater dress with a pair of tights with little sequins and gems sewn onto the sheer black material. You pull your hair back, tied at the nape of your neck, and roll on some lip gloss. You grab your bag, which isn’t your bag, and stroll out, walking down the street to get to the talent agency.

The receptionist looks at you in some measure of shock and greets you kindly. You smile and wave. He looks even more confused as you clomp into the stairwell. Once you get to the third floor, mildly out of breath, you hurry to room 3-5 and silently slide into the back.

You’re not sure why you’re acting so covert, as the class hasn’t even started. A woman with dark hair strolls in and flinches when she sees you sitting there, your new name tumbling from her lips with confusion.

“Hello.” You hope that she’s the instructor, “How are you?”

She looks at you like you grew two heads and forces a smile, “Oh, I’m well, dear. Give me a moment to look outside.”

She clicks to the window in her heels and opens the blinds looking around wildly before she turns back to you.

“Well, nothing’s on fire and there’s a distinct lack of flying pigs, so I guess you’re finally serious about getting better at acting?” 

“Uh… I…?” You don’t know how to respond, “I didn’t realize I’d been late so often.”

“Late? Half the time you didn’t even show up. The only person worse than you is-”

The door behind you opens. You clench your hands to stop the shaking you just realized you were struggling with, and turn slightly in your seat to see a willowy young man, tousled lavender hair being haphazardly smoothed by his slender hands.

The instructor snorts, “Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Felmier.”

He smiles, but it’s a bit too calculated. When he speaks, his voice is soft, almost artificial, “Ah ha… Good morning, Angie.”

Angie, evidently, rolls her eyes and takes a seat at the front of the room, crossing her long legs, and tilts her head skeptically, “Sure. If a satellite doesn’t crash in this room and kill us all in the middle of class, I’ll be shocked.”

“Mr. Felmier” walks over and smiles at you. It seems even more strained than before, and keeps eye contact with you as he points to the chair next to you, his voice high and sweet, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Oh, of course not. I don’t own that chair, haha!” You joke. 

His face twitches, some micro expression that you’re just observant enough to notice, but not to see, and he takes a seat. Angie gets up and leaves and you look out the window. You can feel eyes on you, and when you turn to look at him, his face is impassive save for a slight narrowing of his eyes. You look down at yourself and pat your cheeks, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, no, is there something on me?” You ask.

He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes blinking so fast that if he hadn’t done it twice you would have never seen the movement, and then he gives you that sweet, plastic smile, “Oh, no. Your makeup is different than usual. It looks nice. Pretty.”

“I- I’m only wearing lipgloss, so I guess that’s why. Thank you.”

He nods slowly, and tilts his head, still smiling as though he’s trained to do so, “After we’re done here, did you want to go get brunch together?”

You’re about to say no. You don’t remember him, because this is not your life you’re living, but if you did know him, you’d decline anyway. Something feels funny about him. You don’t really have to decline, though, since you have to go down to floor 2 and see your agent afterwards anyway, “Oh, uh, I’m so sorry. I have to do something after.”

“I can wait.”

“I don’t want to put you out. Maybe another time?”

His eyebrows pinch together ever so slightly and his smile doesn’t strain, but it feels wrong as he leans his elbow on the back of his chair to better face you, “Did you hear the news from Mirelle?”

“What news?” You don’t know who Mirelle is.

“Oh, you’re meeting with her afterwards, aren’t you?” He smooths the hair along your temple so it is slicked behind your ear, “Are you wearing that perfume I got you? You said you hated it.”

Okay, so whoevers body this was definitely knew this man, and now you don’t even know his full name. Judging from the way he’s speaking to you, you were friends at least. Your lashes flutter and you look away from him.

“I- I’m sorry. It smells very nice.” You don’t know how you’re supposed to be acting. The irony of waiting for an acting class while not knowing what your role here happens to be is not lost on you.

Felmier sits up like you insulted him and his voice is quiet, so quiet and tense that you don’t think you’re supposed to hear him, “Interesting.” 

You glance at him again, “What?”

“I didn’t say anything. You like that bagel place down the street, don’t you? After you see Mirelle, meet me in the lobby. I think we should have a chat.” Although he is smiling, his voice doesn’t leave any room for argument as he turns back to the front. 

You stand up, leaving your purse in your seat, and walk to the window, looking out of it for a moment until Angie strolls back in. She clicks her tongue and you walk back to your seat.

“It’s just you two? Now I’m really expecting a freak accident. Well, let’s get started.”

Acting class was… interesting. Since it was just the three of you, Angie had you read lines from a script and act out some kind of argument. She seemed pleased with your performance, but Felmier kept stumbling over his lines and making the wrong expression. He seemed tense by the time the two hour long session was over. You didn’t want to follow that thread, and besides, you had somewhere to be. You went down the stairs again and bumped into a woman with silver hair, who looked at you just as confused as everyone else had been, and smiled sweetly, genuinely.

“Hey, you. You’re a bit early.” She says.

“Uh, yeah. I guess so? I don’t know.” You guessed this was supposed to be Mirelle, your agent, maybe. 

“It’s a good change, babe. Why don’t you come into my office?” She doesn’t really ask, since she’s already leading you over.

She takes a seat behind her desk and you take a seat in front of her, and she taps away at her computer for a moment before she says something.

“You remember Epel? Epel Felmier?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh? You ‘guess so’? Not that the two of you are constantly arguing, or anything.” She smirks, glancing away from her monitor to look at you, “Regardless, I’ve got something that will help with your little PR nightmare last month. What were you thinking?”

“Uh, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrow a fraction, but whatever she was thinking is ignored, “You and Epel are gonna be collaborating on an upcoming short film. Hopefully the two of you don’t get into another screaming match.”

“Um. Yeah. Hopefully.” All this new information and these new people are making your head spin. You don’t want to start panicking- you did enough of that last week- but you’re already exhausted. You wonder if there’s a back entrance to this building so you can just sneak out and don’t have to talk to Epel again. You don’t think you can mentally handle him talking to you over a cup of coffee.

Your agent, Mirelle, is looking at you expectantly, like she just said something. Your heart jumps into your throat, then sinks to your gut and you clear your throat quietly, shifting in your chair.

She laughs airily, “Oh, you didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

You shake your head, and she laughs again.

“I just said that production starts Monday. Try not to do anything crazy. This project is monumentally important for your public image.”

“Okay. Sorry for causing so much trouble in the past.” You mutter, standing up.

She shrugs with a happy little grin, “Oh, you’re young. Maybe you’ll grow out of it.”

You just nod. How are you supposed to even respond to that? If you get mad, you’ll probably get hysterical, and if you get hysterical, that is a one way ticket to a stay in grippy sock jail or a lobotomy. Rich people are different, and even though you’re living in some rich person’s body, you did not live this life for longer than a week. 

You purposely walk to the other staircase. Most buildings have two for fire safety. Your eyes water as you pause on the stairs and you sigh before you start descending them. 

Just as you get to the exit, your hand on the door, you hear a voice behind you, “Hey.”

It scares you out of your skin. You jump and spin and squawk, only to meet the wicked smile of Epel. It doesn’t reach his round blue eyes. He tilts his head from side to side, slowly, as if appraising you, and then he starts walking towards you and you push back against the door, opening it ever so slightly. He stops his motion and looks a tad surprised.

Then his eyes narrow, “Come back in.”

His voice sounds different, rougher. You don’t really want to, but it’s hot outside and you figure from all the odd looks and reactions you’ve gotten, running would be too erratic for this poor person’s life you’ve taken over. 

When you close the door and remain leaned against it, Epel’s face relaxes. You didn’t even realize he was making any sort of tense expression. He glances at the spandrel, the area beneath the stairs, and sighs.

“You hit your head last week? That why you were missin’?” Yeah, he’s speaking entirely differently. He has a sort of charming country twang to his voice, an underlying roughness that makes him seem even more boyish than before.

“Huh?”

“‘Huh?’” He mocks, looking back at you. He looks like he might cry, but his eyes are angry, “That all you got to say? For years you’ve told me that I don’t mean shit, and now you’re actin’ like you don’t even know me.”

He is right. You don’t know him at all. Even though you’re still in the cool building, you begin to sweat. You don’t know what to say to this without going through the experiences you’ve had in the past week, so you decide you don’t have to, especially since it seems like he may get aggressive if you say the wrong thing.

You lean hard against the aptly named panic bar, turn on your heel once outside, and take off running. It dawns on you a little late that he might be following, or, seven forbid, that he knows where you live, so you take a different route as dictated by your GPS and call your new father as soon as you get in the building.

It’s the middle of the work day, so he obviously doesn’t pick up. You unlock the apartment door and pant breathlessly, leaving a hasty voicemail, “O-oh, great seven- ugh- okay, hi, Dad. I told you I’d call you when I get home, so that’s what I’m doing. Hope I didn’t disrupt a meeting or whatever. Call me back, bye.”

You flop face down on the bed and groan, rolling onto your back as the ringtone that you would never choose goes off. In bold white letters on the screen, it says “Bumpkin Boy” with no other indication of who it might be. You pick up.

The voice on the other end sounds heated, a quiet mocking lilt to it, “Bet you went home, huh?”

Your blood runs cold and your very ability to speak is ripped from your lips.

“S’okay. You don’t have to talk. I could pay you a little visit, see what it’s like to live like a nepo baby for a day, but I think…” He pauses, and when he next speaks you hear the smile in his voice, “I think I’ll just wait for Monday, since you owe me a coffee date, don’t you?”

He hangs up after that. You stand up and double-check that you’ve locked the door before you hide in your closet and try not to start hyperventilating. You can’t even beat yourself up for this one. These circumstances are entirely out of your control.

[lordabovehelpme]

Big Bear- Clyde Logan x Reader

Request: So we all know how the best nickname for Clyde is Bear. But how about the first time reader called him that? It doesn’t have to be a whole fic, it can totally be a headcanon or just a thought! Love you! - anon

A/n: Ahhh I love this!!! And I love you for sending this in!! I hope you enjoy! 

Summary: Everything he does reminds you of a bear, but you’ve never told him. What happens when the little nickname slips one night? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as the comparison crosses your mind, it never leaves. It just makes so much sense. The way he get’s all huffy and rumbly in the mornings. Those pillowy lips of his pushed out into a pout and his eyes half closed yet sparkling when they see you. His grumbles will thunder down the halls as he tries to find you. Every morning it makes you think of a bear waking from hibernation a little too early. And every morning you’ll cup his cheek and stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to that pout. And his pout will slowly turn into a small smile.

It’s the way his giant hand wraps around your own, in fact your whole hand can fit in his palm. When he offers his hand out to you, you have to bite back your giggles at how he seems so similar to a bear offering his paw. And it’s not only his hands, it’s also his feet. Those large feet carrying him all around the world and barely fitting into his shoes. They also remind you of paws.

Then it’s the way he hugs you. Those big arms wrapping around your form and pulling you into a strong chest. If he’s behind you, he will rest his chin on the top of your head. Most often he’ll let an overdue sigh escape and relax around you, content with your touch. And if you could see his face, you would see closed eyes and a lazy smile. But if he’s facing you, then a kiss is pressed to your forehead before you are fully pulled in. Then he’ll tug you impossibly close to him and nearly tuck you away into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his waist and slide under his shirt, your nails lightly scratching at his back. Shivers will run up and down his spine and you’ll be pulled even closer, a purr vibrating from beneath his chest.

It’s also the way he eats. It’s like you never feed the man or like he’s never eaten before. He will shove as much as food as he can into his mouth and eat it so quickly. It’s a miracle he hasn’t choked and died yet. But you don’t mind it as much when he’ll give you a thumbs up, his eyes closed from happiness, and a smile with his cheeks puffed out with your cooking concoctions.

But all that good hearty food leads him to look like a bear. His shoulders are wide and nearly take up an entire doorway, muscle cushioning the bone and making a perfect spot for your head to lean on. His chest is broad and strong, pecs pulled taut and slightly protruding from his favorite (and your favorite) shirts. But when he takes those long deep breaths, he swells with air and grows before your eyes, you can’t deny the heat that rises to your cheeks.

However, your most favorite part (if you can even choose) is his tummy. It’s so soft that you literally cannot wait to run your hands over it every night. He’s fed well and you love that it shows. He used to hate it when you first started dating. You would wake up to find him gone, putting himself through various workouts, trying to burn it off. But over years of you telling him how much you love it and how it’s nothing to be ashamed of, he’s grown to like it. It tells you that he’s healthy and loved. And you both know he can’t refuse your baking, especially when you make those gooey apple pies.

The funniest comparison you’ve found though, is the way he sits. The way his entire body will fill any chair and his shoulders kind of slump. But it’s most apparent when he sits backwards on chairs, large thighs surrounding the back and his arms resting on his knees. One time when the two of you were watching a National Geographic Documentary on bears, they showed a scene of a bear sitting in a field. You happened to have looked over at Clyde during that scene, and had to bite your lips to stop from laughing. He was sitting in the exact same position. Your head went back and forth from the TV screen to your man bear on the couch, giggles hidden behind your hands. You could have put their pictures next to one another and said “Spot the difference.” Although, that wouldn’t have really worked because there was no difference.

But there’s something about how warm and cozy he is that really puts the icing on the cake. Countless nights you have found him on the couch, book in his large paw and cooling mug of tea on the small coffee table. And countless times he’s just lifted his arms as you’ve crawled onto his lap, he’ll set his book down on the armrest and drape a blanket around you, tucking in all the corners. Then, without a word, he’ll go back to his book and his arms will hold you close. Sometimes, if you ask, he’ll read aloud to you, deep voice grumbling out poetry and old english in his little drawl. You can feel it rumbling around in his chest and it draws your eyelids to shut. The scent of woods and faint cigarettes mixed with the warmth of his embrace makes you fall asleep in seconds. You’ll nuzzle further into his hold and his shortened forearm will trail up and down your back, caressing you as you drift off.

In your mind, clyde is a bear and there is no other option.

However, you haven’t told him of this comparison yet. Pet names aren’t uncommon between the two of you, he’s always calling you one, “Sweetpea, suga’ plum, sweet’eart, and his favorite, darlin’.” But something about comparing him to a wild animal is keeping you from telling him. Maybe it's the fear of him not liking it, maybe it’s just embarrassment, whatever it is, you don’t know.

The first time it slipped was a late night at the bar. Clyde made you fancy cocktails that were way too good and he looked even better. Your thoughts started to come out unfiltered and you could tell he was getting a kick out of it.

“Darlin’ I think that’s enough fer ya.” He said with a chuckle making his voice even deeper.

You let your lips push into a pout as you stared up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes. “But bear, I’m already going home with you, one more won’t hurt.”

He froze, eyes widening but after a second he shook his head and let a small smile take over his face. “No more fer ya darlin’. I’m sorry, but you’ll thank me in the mornin’.”

The two of you never spoke about it.

Well, you didn't speak about it for three days.

He was curled around you that morning, dead to the world as his snores thundered through the house. (Even his snores sound like a bear’s!) You wiggled out of his hold and padded into the kitchen, starting to prepare all the ingredients for omelettes. Mindlessly you hummed a little tune and started to chop some bell peppers.

Suddenly an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you away from the counter, lifting you into the air. You scream and start to kick your legs before loud chuckles come from behind you. Realizing who it is you relax in his hold and frown.

“Clyde, I had a knife.”

“Darlin’ if that's how you fight against a bear, I’ll never be able to take ya campin.”

The amusement is loud and clear in his voice. You know you’ve been caught.

“What do you mean bear? I don’t see any bears.” When worse comes to worst, what do you do?

Play dumb.

It’s also not your fault he sprung this upon you in the early morning. Your brain’s not even awake yet.

He sets you down and you turn around in his hold, eyes wide with faux innocence. His own eyes slightly narrow, but a small smile stays on his lips.

“Hmm.” He stares down at you, silently testing your acting abilities. “Some little birdie told me that ya think I’m a bear.”

“Well obviously the birds around here are terrible at gossip!” You cross your arms and turn back to your peppers.

He lets out a loud hearty laugh. Then he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on top of your head, watching as you try to not fumble and fluster under his gaze.

“I just wanna know why ya said it? And why you’re now denyin’ it.”

You sigh and set the knife down on the counter, looking up and out the small window above the counter. “Promise me you won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Everything in you screams at you to not tell him. But he said he promised and you know that eventually it would come up again, so why not tell him now?

“Ikindathinkyouactandlooklikeabearsoinmyheadit’sbecomeanicknameforyou.”

He takes a second to think over what you said so quickly. You can practically hear the cogs turning in his head. But with each second that passes, the anxiety bubbles up further in your stomach.

“I like it.”

That is the last thing you expected him to say. “You like it?”

He turns you around so he can look at you. “Yeah, it makes me feel like I can protect ya better. Like a bear.”

Your cheeks hurt from your smile. “Really?”

He swoops down and presses his lips to your own. “Yeah.” His own lips are pulled into a smile. “I’ve got ya darlin’ and now you’ve got yer bear.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press another kiss to his lips. “My big bear.”

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So yeah, I totally was swooning the entire time I was writing this! I hope you enjoyed! 

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! It means the world to me and I also love hearing what you all have to say! 

Love forever, Lordy :) 

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[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

(fem!reader)

(Beautiful Times AU.)

When ALOIS watches you with Luka, he can’t help but feel his heart melt at the thought that you’re going to be such a great mother.

You take care of Alois’ little brother, despite the fact that Luka’s an adult now and the fact that you’re pretty heavily pregnant at the moment. Although, he’s not sure he believes it when you give the excuse that if you don’t move around you get sore; he thinks you just like taking care of people and can’t bear not to do it.

You make sure to keep Luka’s endless appetite satisfied, always pushing biscuits or vegetables or bread at him and fussing that he’s too thin. (Alois doesn’t buy your ‘worries’ for a second. Luka’s skinny as a rail, sure, but you’ve seen how he puts food away and you know he’s in no danger of wasting away or anything like that.)

You give Luka ample hugs and ruffle his hair. Every single time, without fail, he leans into the touches, giggling, happily returning hugs and kissing your cheek and asserting that you are the best big sister ever. (Alois always teases by says, “Well, what’s Hannah, then? You’re going to hurt her feelings!” Only for Luka to declare that Hannah is the best mum, of course.)

You let Luka climb in bed with you and Alois when he’s had a bad dream. You call him ‘sweetpea’. You rub a handkerchief over his face when he’s managed to get himself dirty playing in the garden. You help take care of him when he’s sick.

Even now, he’s watching you run a wet comb through Luka’s ginger hair, trying to get him presentable for his first proper date. Even though Luka is pouting, and fretting about what this girl will think of him, he gives you a tight hug once you’re done, thanking you profusely before running off so Hannah can help him get dressed.

Alois, meanwhile, can’t take his eyes off you. He’s sitting there with his plate of scones untouched, cheek propped up on his hand, staring at you.

Maybe it’s strange to think, maybe it means there’s something wrong with him, but he’s almost jealous of his unborn child, because he wishes he had a mother like the one he anticipates you to be.

You’re kind and caring and good-hearted, even when the rest of the world might not be. You seem to have given Alois himself many second chances, and if there’s an end to your patience with him as he tries to heal, he’s not found the end of it yet.

He can imagine your little one taking their first steps, and falling down, and crying, only for you to swoop in and pick them up, giving them a kiss and a cuddle and making it all better. He’s seen you do similar to Luka, and felt you do similar to himself.

You don’t get to hear all the soft things that Alois is thinking right now. You do, however, get to see the absolutely lovesick way he’s looking at you as you reach for one of the scones on his plate. Raising it up to his lips, you finally bring him out of his reverie with a laugh. “Is something wrong, Alois? You look rather lost in thought, bluebell.”

“... I suppose I was for a moment.” He smiles back at you, taking just a small bite. “I’m sorry. It’s just... I was thinking...” With that, he pushes the pastry back your way. “... That our child is going to be very lucky.”

“Aah! Really? Well... yes, I think, but... why were you thinking?”

“Why? Because they’ll get to have you for a mum.”

“Mm.” You set the scone down, then lean over to give him a kiss. The flavor lingers on both your lips, though Alois finds himself not caring. He’d kiss you a thousand times over even if you tasted like bloody nothing. When you pull away, you’re running your fingers through his hair. “I hope they get your laugh. They’ll be quite lucky then.”

And when you kiss him again, you get treated to that laugh, shifting against your lips.

Before you’ve even parted, his hand has dipped down to rest against your stomach. “Well,” he murmurs, “I’m lucky too, I think.”

After all, this is the life he’s been dreaming about.

He hopes he never wakes up from it.

[giant-sketches]

Happy birthday @gentlegiantdreamer!!!  You are such a wonderful and inspiring person to me and I hold you dear to my heart! So for your birthday I made you this art and wrote you a little story to go along with it. I wish you a day full of fun and love! There is also a speedpaint!

I hope you can feel the effort I put into this and long hours of work too. I hope you and everyone enjoys my interpretations of Lilypadton and enjoy the story. Disclaimer: Almost Drowning/Cussing/Pain/Shouting/Monster Transformations

Word Count: 1746

At the start Patton was very active after his first transformation as Lilypadton. That may have been due to him going about the day believing it was a one time deal, but that wasn’t the case. From time to time the other sides would catch glimpses of his skin turning green around his hands and dark patches appearing on his neck. However, whenever the subject was brought up with the moral side he’d brush it off as a trick of the light or some kind of baking material he missed in his clean up. They all knew better though, especially his boyfriends Janus and Virgil.

“We need to go talk to him….TODAY!” Janus was pacing around Virgil’s room with his arms crossed, expressing his impatience with his partner.

Virgil thought it best to give Patton space, but his changes were becoming more frequent. Now things were even worse as their cutie had locked himself in his room for the past two days.

“I know you wanted to give him space, but now he’s trapped himself in his room. We’re the only ones on this side of the mindscape that can help him through this.” Janus hissed and cursed himself for not doing something sooner.

“Please calm down Jan.” Virgil got up from his bed to hold his boyfriend. “It’s going to be alright. Let’s go see him now and tell him about what’s happening to him.” He paused in thought. “Though, I never thought we’d ever have this kind of discussion with him honestly. To think he was like us this whole time.”

Janus touched his scaled face and looked at Virgil with soft eyes. “Are you going to show him? You know how h-” “Yeah I know...but I have to. It wouldn’t be fair for me to hide it when he’s going through something ten times worse.” Janus kissed Virgil’s cheek to reassure him.

Both left the room and slowly made their way to Patton’s door. Virgil tried the door knob, still locked. “Patton? Sweetpea we’ve come here to see how you are doing. Can you let us in, please?” Silence...no wait there was some kind of groaning sound coming from behind the door. “G-go away…” Was that Patton just now? It sounded like he was gurgling water while trying to speak.

“We can’t do that! We have something important to talk-or show you!” Janus looked to Virgil nervously. The former dark side nodded his head as Jan’s nails grew out to a point and sliced the doorknob off. “Excuse the intrusion.”

Both stepped into a darkened and rather humid room. Thankfully, both of them could see in the dark. In the corner they spotted Patton curled up and shaking, facing the wall. He visibly showed signs of changing with his green tinted skin and dark patches all over his arms and neck. “Pat?”

Startled, Patton sprang to his feet and turned to face them. They gasped at how their little buddy appeared taller now, his eyes now distinctly like a frog’s, and his hair showed faded tips of green. His eyes were filled with tears as he had to look down at his friends. He felt like a monster!

“No, no please….you have to LEAVE!” Patton’s voice croaked and boomed as he shot up another 10 feet and banged his head on the ceiling with a loud thunk. He groaned as he fell to his hands. The tears intensified as water seeped from the cracks in the wall and began flooding the room.

“Shit! Hold on to me!” Virgil clung to Janus for dear life as they quickly rose to the ceiling with the increasing water level. Patton was down below still weeping and expanding. His form pressing up against every nook and cranny of his tiny room. “Patton! Patton please! You need to stop crying or we’re going to- gurrglrrglr”

Time was up. The water had now completely filled the room as Janus and Virgil started sinking. Luckily, their froggy friend heard their pleas and snapped out of his distress. Quickly he expanded the room, changing it’s form as he scooped up the two tenderly in his webbed hands. With a kick of his strong legs Pat breached the surface. The room was now a large pond with only a small island in the center. The sun was warm and there was the sound of life all around them, but this was no time to relax.

“Virgil? Janus? Oh my gosh please, you have to be okay kiddos! Please!” Patton begged for his sweethearts to be okay as he set them on the soft grass. He poked at their stomachs as gently as he could.

*Cough* *Cough*

Oh thank goodness! Both were hacking up small volumes of water as they gasped for air, sweet-sweet air! “Patton?” Their vision was foggy from nearly drowning as they tried to focus on the green blob in front of them. Virgil raised up his arms, “A-are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay?! Are you okay? You two almost drowned b-because of me!” The big softie was on the verge of tears once again as he leaned in to nuzzle his dark darling with his nose.

“Woah...how big are you Patty?” Virgil giggled. He definitely wasn’t expecting to be cuddled by a gentle green snout of all things. “We’re okay Pat. Just a bit out of breath and-” Janus shivered, he had gotten too cold.

Virgil noticed as he escaped from Patton’s schnoz and immediately started cuddling up to his scaly boyfriend to warm him up. Pat climbed up onto the island, but at his current size of 100 feet he covered the majority of it as he scooped them up in his hand to hold them both closer to the sun. Jan was thankful for this as he hissed happily. His cold blood started to run warm again.

“Thank you darling! The numbness is fading now.” He lifted himself up to look at Patton with a warm expression. “Wow, look at you Pat.” “Yeah, Mr. Green right here.” They both joked to cut the tension. Patton laughed along with them as the ground shook, causing ripples in the water. His size really was something to behold. Still, their joy was cut short, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bottled up my emotions like that and hidden away. You two could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“Oh Patty! We understand…w-we have something to tell you.” Virgil looked to Janus hoping he would start. “That’s right Patton, Virgil and I have both gone through what you’re experiencing right now. Okay, maybe not the exact same thing, but something similar.”

Patton was surprised. “W-what do you mean?” Janus smiled flashing his fangs, “I’m sure you’ve already noticed my face, but have you ever wondered why it looks like this?” Pat shook his head, he always thought it’d be taboo to ask about. “It’s because of my monster side.”

Monster side?! What was that? Patton was obviously confused as Virgil spoke up, “Mhm...Janus, Remus, and I...we all have a monster side to us. Janus doesn’t hide his like I do though and Remus is always shifting so it just seems ‘normal’ for him. It was a huge surprise when yours was revealed. Honestly, I never thought you’d be like us Pat.” Virg was feeling anxious as he kept his head down while talking.

“B-but you’ve never looked like Janus at all Stormcloud. What does your monster side look like?” Damn...that was a question he really wanted to avoid. “Guess there’s no use hiding it anymore huh? B-before I show you, you have to promise me you won’t freak out...okay Pat?”

Virgil looked so serious as he stared at Patton. What was he so worried about? “Awe kiddo, you know I’d never be scared of you! I love you too much!” He beamed a smile that put the sun to shame at them as Virgil sighed feeling a bit more relieved. “Alright.”

Concentrating, he closed his eyes as eight pitch black spider legs spread out from his back starting from the spine. He winced in pain, it’d been a long time since he last transformed. A pair of sharp mandibles poked out from the corners of his mouth; four slits opened up underneath his cheeks in pairs, each containing a solid black eye with a hint of purple.

“Aaaahhhh!!!” Suddenly, Virgil screamed lightly in pain as the transformation came to end with his new set of fangs and claws growing to a point. Janus caught him as he slumped over, huffing from exhaustion. Weakly, he looked up to Patton trying his best to smile.

Patton was mortified as he watched Virgil writhe in pain in his hand. When it all finally came to an end he was looking eyes wide at a big black spider...fuck! His heart was racing as he tried to not physically throw his boyfriend into the pond. Wait! That’s right this was his little sweetie, his Stormcloud, Prince of Darkness, etc. There was no need to be so scared...he gulped as he reached down to stroke his loves face.

Oh! He was still so soft and honestly his spider legs kind of tickled. The fear in his heart dissolved instantly. Patton giggled at how nervous he was only moments ago as he pressed them both to his cheek. “So I’m not alone after all.”

God, Virgil was instantly healed by his Sweetpea’s warmth. He hugged into the green flesh happily. “Of course not Patton, we’ll both always be here for you!”

“I’m so happy right now! You two are the best boyfriends in the whole wide world!!!”

Patton slid into the pond once more as he laid on his back. He kissed his cuties to his plush lips and then placed them right on top of his chest as he floated along the water. All the while they laughed and smiled at their giant lovers' touch.

“This new form is scary, but at long as I have you two I think I’ll be okay.”

“We love you Patton and we’ll always love you no matter what you are.”

The couple laid on Pat’s chest as tiny frogs hopped up from the lily pads to play with them as they enjoyed their time together. All content in knowing that each of them had a little cute monster inside of them that made them special.

[early20sfailingplenty]

hi!! i hope i’m not too late, if so please ignore this, but i was wondering if i could get general comforting letter/message from lester or vincent? i have to put my childhood dog down soon and i’d love to have something from the boys to help calm me down. for the name, i’d love it if you could use sweetpea for lester’s or my love for vincent’s 🥺 thank you so much ♡ ♡

I lost one of my kitties recently so I totally empathise and I'm so sorry that you're having to go through this with your dog.😭💔 I'm here if you want to vent or anything and I hope that this offers you the comfort you need. Lots of love to you!💗

TW; animal death, pet death, death.

Hey, Sweetpea.

Di'n't know how to say any of this wit'out upsetting y'more, so I figured a note would do the job, yep. Momma always used to leave notes for daddy, though I'on know if he ever replied to 'em. But tha's not the point.

M'real sorry to hear about yer dog, hon. Ain't easy to go through a loss; even knowin' that there's time to say goodbye don't help none. I 'member when momma passed; was so sudden. She was there in the mornin' and when I got home, she was gone. Bo was oddly quiet that day, I almost took him for Vincent 'til I saw his face when he turned 'round to look at me. Somethin' never seemed right about that day... but anyway!

This ain't about me. It's about you. M'so sorry, sweetpea. I see death every day on th'roads an' I put more'n a few outta' their misery 'cuz what hit 'em di'n't finish 'em off, an' it never gets any easier. S'okay to feel and t'cry, darlin', I'd never think less o'ya' for it. In fact, I think you're strong. Brave, even, to face this head on knowin' it's coming and staying 'round wit' your dog 'til the end. I know they 'ppreciate it; spend as much time wit' 'em as y'can, s'all I can really say.

Your dog ain't alone an' neither are you, sweetpea, 'cuz y'got me.

Sit tight for me, hon. M'comin' home t'you; these roads ain't done jus' yet but they can wait. But my sweetpea can't and tha's all I give a shit about.

Yours, Lester.

-------

As Vincent is non-verbal, I have taken the creative decision to have him write without an accent and in a slightly poetic manner which is similar to how I write. I hope this is okay.

My love,

The bitter bouquet of death is a fresh one in this town; it lingers in everything I and my brothers do. We control much of it, as you know, but this... this is something we can't do anything about. I never learned much medical knowledge from my daddy, just what I could find in those dusty tomes which Bo never got rid of for some reason (I say sentimental value and so does Lester, but we don't tell him that; the fire in him wouldn't be put out for hours if we did), but even if I had picked up his skills, there still wouldn't be anything I could do to help your dog and I'm truly so sorry.

My brothers and I have a very strange relationship amongst ourselves but especially when it comes to death; it doesn't bother us all that much unless it concerns those we love. Our inner circle has been impenetrable our whole lives and we opened ranks just long enough to let you in, and it's the best thing we've ever fucking done, other than putting a bullet or five in daddy's head. I will be here beside you through it all, my love, and though I know not if this is any comfort to you, I will leave you with this:

You may not have gotten to spend your entire life with your childhood dog in the way I know you most want to, but your dog has spent their entire life with you, which is what they want. Please do not leave them in this time; they need you now more than ever. I cannot imagine you doing so; your capacity for love is blinding. Be brave, my love, I know you know how. If grief is the price of love, then I will help you to foot the bill.

Yours always,

Vincent.

[luvdsc]

hey!! it’s 🧋 anon!! i hope you’re doing well! thank you!! ive got 11 more exams this coming week so i’m a lil 🥲 and then 3 more maybe the week after? exactly! i was so paranoid in the exam like “am i suddenly smart or a grade a idiot?” but it’s comforting to know that others feel the same about tests in general 😅. i’m learning python! i know there are better languages but ehhhh it’s just high school sjdnndn. and thank you about my bias choice sjsjndn. oh no not the 10th floor 😭 i’ve heard horror stories 🤧 i just can’t get over how sweet, funny and gentle he seemed in the jolly interview 🥺. thank you!! for letting me claim 🧋! and i wish i could say the same about not knowing that it was released but i’ve legit been checking since pre-quarantine for a boba emoji bc emojipedia said it would be coming out 😭 i had to start claiming it soon bc i’m NOT letting someone take it from me 😠 (but also! look how cute these are: 🦤🦭🐻‍❄️🐈‍⬛ ). as for my regular boba order, i’m still a lil new to the boba world bc i first (finally) tried it like 2 weeks before quarantine 😭. so everytime i go to this boba place (which is hardly ever for obvious reasons) i try to get something different! bc it all seems so cool!! the place i go to has popping bubbles in different flavours! so i always try to get a different drink with different popping bubbles and regular boba. i think my favourite so far is any drink (maybe mango?) with apple popping bubbles and boba!! but i’ve also been making boba at home for agessss and i usually just make regular tea or green tea with it! 💗

awww 😭 thank you ma’am sksndjdj. i mean, you do give off very motherly energy so i’ll happily accept being a baby 🥺 awww you think my accent is cute? ms cat i’m blushing 😭🥺 oof yeah the exams are not fun™️. but like you said, it does kinda prepare us for them more but the stresssssss is 🥲😭 okay so i’ll answer these in order if that’s okay?

do you still have class going on in between these exams? i assume you mean specifically when we have exams? so unfortunately yeah😭 it depends on the teacher as to wether they’ll let us revise in lesson or if we have to do regular work

do the gcse’s determine your college field of study afterwards? kinda? i mean, colleges have a minimum enterance requrement for courses. although it varies course to course, it’s usually somewhere around the 4-5 (high c-low b) mark. but you can do any course you want at college as long as you have passes in most subjects (usually an emphasis on core subjects (english, maths and science)). (so like, if you didn’t do history in high school, but you wanted to do it in college, then you could do the course as long as you meet the courses’ gcse grade requirements).

is college different from uni? yeah! college is for 2 years and straight after high school. in england you legally have to be in education until you’re 18, so all education is free until then, meaning that college is free! (unless you want to go back to do something else later in life). uni is after college and is optional. that’s where you get things like a bachelor’s, masters and doctoral degree. usually it’s for 3 years although it can vary and you have to pay! we have a student loan system too!

don’t worry about the questions! i enjoy the differences too sjdbbdd. and oooo! here, high school is 11-16/year 7-11, then college is (usually) 16-18/year 12-13 (although we don’t tend to refer to them by years) and uni is (usually) 19-22! (although you tend to go back to that for higher qualifications).

ansnsekndj i’m sorry ms cat 😭 and for me college will start in september of next year! we finish year 11 really early compared to the other years (usually we finish in july (my birthday month!!) but in year 11 we finish the day our last exam happens! which is usually around the end of may to the start of june!) so the holiday is the longest we’ll ever have 😭. that’s one of the reasons i envy americans because the summer breaks are SO long 😭 here, they’re 6 weeks sksndn.

i hope i answered all of your questions ms cat! ily! 🐈‍⬛💗~🧋

hi, lovebug!!! 💓 i’m going to put my answers under the cut since they got pretty long 🤧

i’m doing good!! i got soo much sleep over the weekend and am well rested, so this means tomorrow’s 6 am meeting won’t be too bad 🤧 YOU HAVE ELEVEN EXAMS THIS WEEK???? what on earth 😭 that’s like 2 per day and one day has 3 aksjlhflajkdfaskdjf why don’t they spread them out??? and three more the following week 💀💀 this sounds absolutely brutal, i’m so sorry, lovebug. have you been studying for all of them? LOL yeah, i feel like something is wrong if i can just breeze through a test akjdlhsflask python is a good start and easy to understand! honestly, most codes are pretty similar tbh, so once you get a good grasp of one, it’s easy to learn the other ones :’) do you enjoy cs? 💕 aldskjfaslk yeah, jaehyun does seem like the perfect boyfriend, doesn’t he? 🤧💘 LOL i heard there would be a boba emoji, but i didn’t know if it was true or not, but woooo it’s good to know it’s finally here!! 🥳 and omg the dodo bird and seal emojis 🥺💗 those are all sooo cute!!! aslhfdlkjasd first time trying boba, i just gasped out loud 😦 i’m so happy to hear that you enjoyed it once you tried it though! 💜 omg the popping bubbles are really yummy! and i LOVE mango!!! 🤩 that’s one of my favorite fruits :’) same with apple!! omg you’re making boba at home asdjhfas i’m so jealous 🤧 i haven’t had any boba ever since quarantine started in march 😭 aaaah i loooove green tea and black tea ones :’) have you tried the cheese boba tea before? i thought it wasn’t going to be that good, but i was pleasantly surprised with the taste, like it wasn’t that bad actually. cloud tea is also really nice, too ☁️💞

akjashdlfkja you are the absolute cutest omg 🥺💖 the british accent is sooo nice like wow, you can just be reading me your grocery lists and i’m like 🤩 amazing, perfect, wonderful, never been done before. meanwhile, i’m here with some kind of american valley girl accent LOL 🤧 you shouldn’t be having that much stress at 15 what the heck 😭 i wish they would cut down on the number of exams for you because having 11 in one week is not okay at all ): and oh my goodness, thank you sooo much for giving me such thorough answers to all my questions, honey bee 🥺💛💛✨

ah, we also have classes going on during exams too, so i can relate unfortunately. it really sucks when the teachers continue to teach new material, instead of helping you prepare for the big exams /:

ooo i see!! i think it’s really cool that colleges actually show minimum requirements for acceptance. here, there’s no set criteria at all, so it’s kind of a shot in the dark. they do post the averages of past students’ grades/scores and whatnot, so we have a vague idea of what each school wants, but some schools are weird af, like my friend with a lower gpa and less extracurriculars got into stanford university, meanwhile my one friend who won essentially the youth’s version of the nobel prize and was even acknowledged by obama during his presidency was waitlisted 😬

oh wow, i wish it was like that here :o education is so expensive in the US, like student debt is the norm. do you still have general education classes in college, or is this where you can choose a specific field of study? and university is only 3 years oh my gosh wow, only three years of tuition to pay!! the US could never /: it’s like 70k/year for private universities, 5k-15k/year for public schools in state, and 15k-35k/year for public schools if you’re out of state 💀

the words “college” and “university” are pretty much interchangeable here in the US, so that’s really cool to know! years 6-8 / ages 11-13 (i think that’s the age range?) is considered middle school here, so it’s interesting to see that some of those years are considered high school for you :o

ooo ok, that’s when my school years ended too back in high school! i ended in may and started school again in august. but in uni, i started in september and ended mid june :’) ah yes, our summers are around 2-3 months, and i really miss having that now that i’m out of school 😭 only 6 weeks??? that’s so short omg i’m so sorry ): do you have anything fun planned for your summer? also, do you have prom there? 💕

thank you soooo so much, sweetpea, you answered all of my questions so nicely, and i appreciate you so much 💝💝 ily too, and i hope you have a good week ahead, angel!!! 💖🌷

[morganas-pendragons]

Iron Maiden and her Little Miss | T.S.

I love this gif. 

So someone - @libraryoffandomsuniverse - requested a part two to this Tony Stark oneshot. You’re gonna want to read that before you read this. I loved writing it so much that I decided to do it again! Requests are open! I hope to publish at least two oneshots a day! 

Tagging: @ursae---majoris (sorry beatriz, you’re getting tagged in everything now) 

prompt: reader meeting morgan after the events of endgame + bonding time over their shared love of their father

It’s hard to not be intimidated by a little girl you’d never met. Tony hadn’t mentioned her in the short time you’d seen each other during the battle, but Pepper had told you about her afterward. Morgan. They’d gotten married in the five years that passed after the first snap and had Morgan not long after you and Peter had disappeared. 

You see her at the funeral, wrapped in the arms of her mother. She very clearly sees you too, and it’s hard not to recognize the similarities between the two of you even though you’re only half siblings - There’s so much of you in her physical appearance, but the eyes... The eyes are so much like your father that looking into them makes your heart break just a little bit more then it already has. 

Happy Hogan is the one who convinces you to take that extra step with a generous offer of whatever amount of cheeseburgers you want. You’ve known him since you were a child, and he’s pretty much seen you grow up, so it’s hard to deny him when he’s one of the last pieces of your childhood. 

  “And besides,” He gestured down to the gauntlet on your arm that you’d refused to take off upon arriving at the cabin for Tony’s funeral. It felt like you were letting go of him if you did. “Iron Maiden will need her Little Miss someday.” 

Morgan was the first one to reach out. You’d taken claim of your fathers lab in the basement of their home and began tinkering on the Iron Maiden armor well into the early hours of the morning after his funeral. Just as you’d inherited his genius, you also had Tony’s infamous plague of insomnia.

You also had his plague of nightmares reoccurring behind your eyes when you shut them. His smile. His hands, the way he listened to you sing him to his death-

  “Y/N? What’re you doing?” 

Your eyes slowly shift upward to meet hers, and the breath catches in your throat. Gods, she looks so small standing there, arms wrapped around her Iron Man teddy. “Hi sweetpea. I’m working on the suit Daddy built me. Why are you up? It’s-’’ Peering over the counter, you grimace as the clock flashes 1:15 AM. “Way past your bedtime.” 

Morgan rubs her eyes and her bottom lip juts out. “I had a bad dream. And Daddy,” Both of you fall silent as she struggles to figure out what to say to you. “Daddy always kept my bad dreams away.” 

You smile softly. “Daddy kept my bad dreams away too, sweetpea. He was good at that.” You reply, standing from your work station and extending your arms to her. “C’mon. I think I’ve got an idea.” 

She sprints toward you and throws herself into your embrace with reckless abandon, and your heart sinks because she is so young and will have to learn to grow up in a world that didn’t have an Iron Man like yours had. 

  “When I was little, Daddy used to make these.” You flicked through the Stark Tech tablet and projected a folder of videos labeled Y/N Stark onto the wall. “They’re called home videos. He and Mom liked to record them whenever I did something.. Like my first word or my first step.” Morgan gasped as you played a video from 2008 - the first time you’d wandered into the lab while Tony had been testing the Mark II. “In this case, when Daddy built his first suit of armor.”

  “That’s him!” She shrieked. “That’s Iron Man!” Morgan jabbed a finger at the image you’d paused on - Tony in all his glory, smiling so brightly as he bent down in the armor and tossed you into the air. You remembered it well. How free you’d felt. How loved. “That’s our daddy!” 

Our Daddy. 

  “You wanna see yours now?” 

When Pepper came down the following morning to a silent house, she had assumed that Morgan had woken in the middle of the night and came searching for you. What she didn’t expect was to see her curled up in your arms, head resting against your chest as she slept. Your eyes remain fixated on the wall as another video continued playing - The ones that had been made while you and Peter had been gone. 

  “Hey sweetie. How long have you been at this now?” 

Your eyes snap open and meet her own as she pauses the video. “Uh.. what time is it?” 

  “Half past ten.” 

Laughter breaks past your lips at the statement. “Nine hours.” You reply. You still can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away from the image of Morgans first Christmas with Pepper and Tony. It’s so innocently sweet and so peaceful that you almost wish you had the Time Stone so you could rewind and let him live through those five years again if it meant your father could have the happiness he’d craved. “It was nice though, getting to see these again. Getting to see him.” 

  “Oh Y/N,” Pepper bent down and placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “I know you didn’t hear it from him when you saw him, but Tony was so proud of you. He left you to be the embodiment of Iron Man in his place. That’s why he installed-” She tilted her head and focused her gaze on your gauntlet. “Have you used the AI feature yet?” 

Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t had the pleasure. 

  “No, I don’t think I have. Why? What is it-” 

  “I think you should start talking to your AI. Maybe it’ll help you build the blueprints for Little Miss’ armor she’ll wear someday.” Pepper takes Morgan from your arms and slowly ascends the stairs to make breakfast, and you’re once again alone in the basement. 

Trembling fingers lift to the screen of your gauntlet, and with a flick of your finger, you’re left looking at the hologram of the AI your father built for you into your suit.

Tears run down your face as he stares back at you, his eyes so similar to his physical appearance, and he smiles before crossing his arms over his chest and lowering the Aviator sunglasses to the bridge of his nose. 

  “Hi sweetpea. You ready to start building Little Miss’ Armor?”

[bittysvalentines]

Window Shopping for a Soulmate

From: @leahlisabeth

To: @creative-cabbage

Thanks for your prompts! I had a lot of fun creating your fic and I hope you enjoy it!

It was so cold that Bitty could see his breath.  “Why are we even out here?” he whined.

“Not my fault you haven’t figured out how to dress for the weather yet,” Lardo shot a pointed glance at his hatless head and gloveless hands.

“Well excuse me, I planned to spend this entire visit in your kitchen baking you enough pies to last a year or in a car on a way to a mall so all our shopping could be done indoors,” Bitty pouted.

“You’re such a baby,” Lardo rolled her eyes and turned to keep walking.  “Hurry up, the sooner we find a Valentine’s Day gift for Shitty we can go home and you can crawl back into the oven.”

“That’s the other thing, since when are you so into Valentine’s Day? I woulda thought it was too heteronormative for Shitty.” Bitty glanced over at the candy store they were walking by and shuddered at the overflowing display of red, hearts, and teddy bears.

“Nah bro, it might be totally commercial but any excuse to celebrate love and all that,” Lardo shoved his shoulder lightly.

“Oh, you’re actually calling it love now?” Bitty asked, eyebrows raised.  “I thought you were calling it a quasi-platonic partnership.

Lardo’s cheeks were already pink from the cold but they brightened almost imperceptibly,  She said nothing but shrugged and kept walking.

Bitty followed her down the sidewalk but stopped as something on display in the next window grabbed his attention.  It was probably the first male mannequin he had ever seen in a lingerie store window.  It was wearing a sheer black lace robe and a pair of black lace shorts similar in cut to his regular summer wear, if his regular summer wear left his entire ass exposed, that is.  “Hey Lardo, don’t you think I’d look sexy in this?” he said, turning to his friend...his absent friend...his absent friend who had somehow been replaced by a god of a man who was incredibly underdressed for the weather, had the bluest eyes Bitty had ever seen, and who was looking at him like he’d never seen a fellow human being before.

“I’m not Lardo,” the man said and Bitty understood why he was looking at him that way when a rush of heat flooded his left thigh and he would have known what it meant anywhere, even without the confirmation of the words he’d just heard.

“Did you just…?” Bitty started.

“Are you…?” The man interrupted him.  They both fell back into silence, staring into each other’s eyes.  The man stepped closer and Bitty, even though he was sure he knew what was happening, couldn’t help flinching back a little at having someone so large in his admittedly roomy personal bubble.

“I’m sorry,” the man stepped back again, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his flannel.  He pulled down the neck of his t-shirt to expose a line of black script across his left pec.  Bitty couldn’t help stepping closer to read it.

And sure enough, there it was: “Hey Lardo, don’t you think I’d look sexy in this?”

Bitty laughed, “Lord, what a thing to say to someone on their first meeting.  I cannot believe.”

“Euh, do you?” The man gestured to Bitty.

“Plain as day on my thigh, sweetpea, but I am not disrobing in the middle of the street like we’re in some tropical vacation spot.  It is way too cold out here for that,” Bitty chattered, a little nervously.

“It’s barely below freezing,” the man said, amusement creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, it’s below freezing, the point where things like Bitty’s freeze,” Bitty scowled.

“What’s a Bitty?” the man asked.

“Oh uh, I’m a Bitty, well I’m an Eric...Bittle,” Bitty could feel his face heating as he rambled.

“Oh, well it’s nice to meet you, Bitty Eric Bittle,” the man grinned widely and Bitty could feel his heart pooling somewhere at his feet.

“Bitty, what’s up?” Lardo startled them out of the intense staring contest that was developing between them as she stepped in front of Bitty.  “Is this guy bothering you?”

“What no, Lardo, this is my soulmate,” Bitty said.

“Eyyyyy,” Lardo stuck out her hand.  “So you’re the man who isn’t Lardo.”

“Um...yeah.  It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, since your name has been on my chest my entire life,” the man blushed.

“Dude, really? Can I see?” Lardo asked.

The man blushed deeper but pulled the neck of his shirt down once more.

“Bits, that’s so embarrassing! What were you…?” She looked around before catching sight of the same outfit that had caught Bitty’s eye before.  “Dude, yes.  You would look amazing, you have to buy it.  I’m sure your soulmate will love it.”

Bitty thought he was going to combust and melt right through the sidewalk.  Thinking about it in theory had been one thing, but to think about it now, in front of a man he was most likely going to enter into some sort of relationship with, well it was a bit much.

He looked over at the other man and took comfort in the fact that at least the other man looked just as uncomfortable as he did.

“So, I didn’t catch your name,” Lardo continued.

Bitty facepalmed as he realized he had completely forgotten to ask.

“Oh, my name is Jack, Jack Zimmermann?” Jack fiddled with his beanie.

“Wait, the NHL player? Seriously?” Bitty asked.

“Haha, yeah, I guess so,” Jack laughed and shifted his feet, looking at the ground.  “I thought maybe you recognized me?”

“No, I’m sorry.  Like I play, but I’m not really into following any teams,” Bitty said.

“You play?” Jack’s eyes lit up.  

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Lardo said. “I’m gonna go keep looking for a Valentine’s gift for Shitty and I’ll text him to come and pick me up and we’ll go out for dinner and Bitty can take you to our home and cook you a nice dinner so you can get to know each other.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Jack protested.  “I’ll take you out for dinner.”

“Trust me, Bitty here is absolutely itching to cook you a delicious meal and you have not lived until you’ve tried his pie,” Lardo winked.

“Is that okay?” Jack asked.

Bitty nodded and shyly reached for Jack’s hand.  Jack took it and Bitty instantly felt warmer.  He led the way to his car, suddenly really excited to see where life would take him next.

[inkykeiji]

just read "I'm about to show you the beginning is the end" - it was amazing, by the way!! - and *god* touya-nii reminded me of my ex there. I won't go into all the nasty details but he'd often get upset with me over something small or out of my control, leave me (whether it be a breakup or ghosting me), and me having to contact a family member to get through to him and "compromise". His compromises weren't as nice as the little necklace Touya got reader but HEY thats not the point here😭

anywayyy reason im rambling about this is because when i was with him i used to ramble about him being like touya-nii in the positive senses - the way he was in bed, the little similarities, the way they spoke similarly, etc. And now that i'm out of that abusive situation, all I'm seeing is the similarities within the abuse and toxicity of reader's relationship with touya. The funny thing is it didn't even occur to me just how bad Touya was to reader because I was conditioned to think it was just barely out of the ordinary. Take away the branding and cheating and you had my relationship that i thought was healthy.

Sorry i made this ask so long but I just wanted to let you know how much I love your writing, and how much I admire the way you're able to make the toxicity of your characters subtle (I hope that doesn't sound weird??) I've always seen abuse portrayed really unrealistically and 90% of the time it's only physical abuse. It's honestly a little scary that I didn't register touya-nii or that ex as abusive because they're so good at masking it, and i love how you're able to portray it realistically. it's comforting in a weird way? I hate reading fluff because it just makes me feel worse, but the complex dynamics of your characters bring me back to reality and remind me i'm not totally alone. so to sum up my giant rant...

thank you <33

hi sweetpea <3

tw: abuse, toxic relationships

i cannot tell you how much this ask means to me, oh my gosh. thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences with me! <3

i’m glad it comes across as realistic, because it is heavily based off of my own parents’ relationship, and my father’s abuse towards my mother and myself. one of the several reasons i write such toxic relationships is to make sense of, process, take apart and put back together, my own experiences and what i grew up steeped in.

the other thing i wanted to say, especially since you mentioned not being able to see outside of the toxic relationship until you were actually and fully OUT of it, is that it’s written that way from readers perspective on purpose. it’s written from the perspective of a person who is so deeply entrenched in this relationship, in this tangled web of abuse and this manipulation, that they don’t actually see anything wrong with it. they’ve been gaslit and brainwashed in a slow, methodical, precise way, and it’s also where the ‘romanticized’ aspect comes from—because it’s coming from HER point of view, where she does truly believe she’s in love, where she may even, in some very twisted and brainwashed way, feel love for him, feel care and compassion for him. it is such a complex, grey area! (you may notice that when i write from touya’s perspective, it takes on a more obsessive, almost worship-y type vibe; ie he loves her soooo much, she's sooo good for him, so perfect for him, etc etc.).

abuse, and abusive relationships, are not black and white and i hate it when people attempt to portray them so simplistically. and the thing is, abuse of ANY kind (but especially emotional abuse) doesn’t just HAPPEN. it is a slow, slow progression and it can be extremely subtle; so it doesn’t raise any flags, so the abuser can trap their victim and break them down, etc. i wish, so desperately, that my mother left my father. but she didn’t, and she won’t, and as much as it upsets me because she is a literal angel on earth and deserves SO much better, it is ultimately her choice and i have to respect that even if i don’t agree with it. it’s her life; i can’t force her to do anything. i’ve discussed this with her before, and she told me this is the choice she is making. but anyway the point i’m trying to make here is, there are so, so, SO many reasons why someone who is an abusive relationship chooses to STAY in an abusive relationship; the reasons differ from case to case as it is such a personal thing, and we already have so much research and scientific/psychological literature conducted on this topic alone.

in touya-nii’s reader’s case, it is both because she is brainwashed and entirely dependent on him, and because she was already so fragile—already had such a fragile sense of self worth—and now the only place or thing she gets any validation from at all, that makes her feel like she is good and she is worthy and she has purpose, is serving him.

i’m so glad to hear you find it comforting, especially because i know EXACTLY what you mean, yes!!!!! 100%!!! i am the exact same way! 99% of the time i can’t stand tooth-rotting fluff because it just isn’t realistic to me, and isn’t realistic to my situation. i find so much more comfort in characters and stories that i can relate to because they make me feel less alone, too; like i’m not the only one going through this, or i’m not the only one feeling like this, etc etc etc. it’s one of the huge reasons why i find so much comfort in dabi/the todorokis: because my dad makes enji look like dad of the fucking year. so it’s nice to see that portrayed in a piece of art where i can go ‘okay, at least he would understand, he would get it; in his fictional universe he DOES get it’ etc. hopefully that makes sense hahaha

i’m so sorry that you had to go through this. absolutely no one deserves it, and i hope you are taking good care of yourself and healing and finding love and happiness and health and LIFE again in whatever form it may be. i am glad my work can be a source of comfort for you—genuinely, this means the whole world to me, it is such an honour to hear!!—and i hope it can be here for you whenever you need it.

i love you so much anon, thank you again for sharing this with me <3

[the-walking-memelords]

Allegiances: Chapter 15

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Series is rated M

Word Count: 1879

Clementine visits an old friend to vent her fears.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

A/N: Hey sorry for the short and late update. Life threw me through many loops the last couple weeks and I'm still not really 100% I hope to get back on track soon now that the semester is over and things are calming down. Love y'all and thanks for putting up with me lol

Clementine stood in the shadows as she felt the rumble of the train below her feet. Soft golden sunrays flooded in through the boxcar door. The breeze caused her cream-coloured skirt to flutter around her legs as she stepped closer to the open door. The air was a sweet smell. Wildflowers and autumn leaves.

A blur of gold and blue flashed by as the train looped endlessly, travelling without a destination. This train wasn’t heading to Savannah, which was good since that was the last place she ever wanted to be again. Cities were terrible, that’s all that place had taught her. Thousands of the dead hunting for any unfortunate soul who remained; the rotting stench suffocating every bit of air.

Ben, Molly, Chuck… nearly Kenny as well…

Any lost name was one too many. The names of those who tried to keep her safe only piled higher.

Katjaa and Duck.

Those who didn’t make it to the city.

Not to mention those who were lost from the start.

Mom and Dad.

The soft, kind smiles they always wore upon seeing her were replaced with the hungry grimaces of the dead at their final meeting with their daughter. Their dull skin ripped and riddled with bites. The sight searing into the young girl’s eyes.

Clementine grabbed the brim of her hat holding the unstained cap in front of her as she sat on the edge of the cool metal, her legs swinging freely off the side.

She traced her fingers over the seam of the D, the insignia showing no signs of wear. The surrounding white showed brightly. Her fingertips moved to the blank location of the one stain that never came out. The blood of the man who was by her side since the beginning. The stain was a reminder of her stupid, childish mistake, and the man who died trying to correct it.

Clem hugged the hat close with one arm, the other feeling through her tied-back hair. She let her fingers catch in the knots as she raked her hand through.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that, Sweetpea.”

Clementine’s heart jumped at the familiar nickname. She looked over her shoulder at the smiling man, so real in front of her it was as if the past eight years had not occurred. Same blue button-up over a long-sleeved white shirt.

Lee.

“Helps me focus.” Was all she could mumble out as her hand fell to her lap, replacing the cap on her head.

She focused her eyes on the weeds flying past, unable to look up at him as he joined her on the edge.

“The train again…” He stated.

“You always pick the train.”

The train where everything changed.

“This is where it all started. Where I learned to be a survivor.” Clem pointed out.

“Where you taught me to shoot and cut my hair.”

Clementine knew she’d let him down. Lee taught her better than this, but she still became just another monster.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice caught in her throat.

“You say that every time.” Lee let out a small laugh.

“And I still don’t think you have anything to apologize to me for.”

She glanced over at him, his kind eyes looked at her with a pride she didn’t hold in herself.

“It’s happening again. My friends are dying because of me, because I’m a liar.” Despair in her words as they rolled off her tongue.

“This group… I’ve been with so many, but this one is different. I want to stay with them. I’m sick of starting over.”

She just wanted to stop, even for just a moment. A moment to rest. A moment without a war. A moment without thinking about the next fight. A moment of peace.

“I’m scared, Lee. The others are counting on me, and I don’t know if what I’m doing is right.” Clem picked at the hem of her skirt.

“I don’t know where AJ is, or if he’s even still alive. And Louis… he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of them.” Clementine bit her lip hard, taking a deep breath as she held back the tears.

“So Louis is your boyfriend, huh?” The man teased, trying to cheer her up.

“Shut up.” Clementine felt her face grow warm.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Sweetpea.” Lee chuckled as he patted her head.

“Finding love in a world like this, that's something worth fighting for.”

“He doesn’t even know AJ, but he still wants to help me save him.” She crossed her arms tight as a familiar fear crept up her spine

“If he got hurt or worse because of me, I couldn't live with myself. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. If he did, he would understand why I have to go alone.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment. Clementine’s frustration and fear hanging over her like a heavy fog, blocking her senses from all else.

“He understands that that boy means everything to you, and to him, that’s enough of a reason to fight.”

“Do you think AJ will like it at the school?” The physical conditions of the boarding school were rougher than at the Delta, limited food and no power or running water. But they’d be safe, and together. That would be enough, right?

“I don’t think that kid would care where he goes if he gets to stay with you.” Lee assured.

“How was he, the last time you saw him?”

God, it was so long ago.

“Okay enough, I guess.” But there was a worry that had been bothering her for some time, like an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

“I’m worried that Lilly’s been trying to get into his head.”

Lilly wasn’t exactly a positive influence on the boy. She was a master of manipulation, Clem feared it would be all to easy for her to shape AJ into whatever tool she wanted him to be.

All the more reason to kill her sooner.

“Lilly.” Lee’s voice was low, almost like a growl as the words passed his lips.

“I knew the day we kicked her out that she was turning into a monster. I just wish I’d noticed it a few seconds sooner.”

Carley.

“To think of all the trouble I might’ve saved you if I’d just gotten payback then and there.”

“You’re not the revenge type, Lee.” Clementine couldn’t imagine Lee gunning down Lilly on the side of the road for what she’d done.

“I didn’t think I was either until you got nabbed.” The man’s hands clenched into fists at the thought of that stranger.

“You were just protecting me. That’s why you kill, to protect people. That’s why I shot him, to protect you.” The second she’d pulled the trigger the gun felt as if it had grown a hundred times heavier, slipping through her shaking fingers as his body hit the floor.

“I’ve hurt so many people since then. People who didn’t deserve to die.”

She told herself it was what had to be done. But no amount of self-justification could take away the crushing knot in her stomach whenever she did it.

“I want Lilly to be the last. I don’t want to hurt any more people.” It was the closest Clementine felt to James’ pacifism. Yet killing walkers left no burden on her.

“Lilly dies, and I bring Violet and the others home.”

Hopefully, their rescue would make up for all of her lies. The sound of Violet’s screams as she was dragged away echoed in her head.

I hope you’re okay, Vi.

“I know it’s hard, Clem, but having people you care about? That's a good thing.” Lee’s soothing voice gave her a sense of calm.

“You’ve got a little boy who thinks the world of you, and he’s waiting for you to go get him. Another boy who loves you, and would fight for you without hesitation. A best friend who risked her life to save yours. And all the other friends you’ve made. You’ll all be home soon, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” She knew Lee had no sway in the events to come.

“You’re not even really here.”

The man who stood before her was nothing but a wishful dream.

“I wish I was, Clementine. I guess we’ll just have to make do with pretending.” His smile fell as he let out a sad sigh.

“The last thing I wanted to do was leave you alone in the middle of this mess.”

“The world turned to hell, and you got stuck taking care of a little kid.” How long would Lee have lived if their paths hadn’t crossed? Surely longer than a few mere months.

“And it seems you followed right in my footsteps.” He jested. Lee had a point, circumstances be damned their situations had played out eerily similar.

Clementine glanced over at the man as he rose from his spot, catching his balance as the train rumbled beneath him. Lee stepped away from the light, the shadows of the dark car nearly obscuring his facial features.

“I’m so proud of you, Clem.” His voice caught with emotion.

“Don’t you dare forget that.”

Clementine couldn’t hold back anymore. The little girl jumped to her feet and flung her arms around him. She hugged him tightly as if he might disappear into the wind. A sob escaped her tiny body as her tears stained the blue of his shirt.

The train’s whistle cutting through the silence signified that their time was coming to a close. It took a lot for Clementine to force herself to let go of him, but when she did, Lee’s eyes filled with amazement as he saw his little girl all grown up.

“Wow…” He gasped.

“Just look at you.”

Clem took a step back as she blinked tears from her eyes. Her worn denim jacket and mud-stained cargo pants replacing her innocent summer dress and tights. Dark curls fluttered around her face no longer held back by her hat or hair ties.

“I’m done running, Lee. I have a home now. A family.” She promised him she’d always keep moving, but now she’d found something better.

“I have one more battle, then I’m done fighting as well.”

“Then I guess you’re off the hook.” He laughed.

“A home and a family is more than I ever could have hoped for you.”

The train whistled again, a rude reminder that it was time to go. Lee shook his head disapprovingly, seeming just as annoyed by it as she was.

“There are people that need you, Clementine.” He reminded with a soft smile.

“Come see me again once you bring everyone home. Okay, Sweetpea?”

“Okay, Lee.” Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart as she watched him disappear into the shadows

“Goodbye.”

The shadows swarmed around her, blocking out the golden hues until they were replaced with the overhead bars of her cold bunk bed.

Clementine sat up, stretching her arms over her head as she looked around the empty moonlit room.

A knock at her door made her jump.

“Clementine?” She heard Mitch call from the other side.

“It’s time to go.”

One more fight.

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Fix You ~ Sweet Pea (Part One)

A/n: Little Sweet Pea fluff to help get my mental mojo jamming again so I can get over this bump in the road and finish Tattoo. Enjoy and sorry for the super long delay! I’m also sorry I can never just do one part? Like, fuck, wow.

Word Count: 3200+

When you try your best, but you don't succeed. When you get what you want, but not what you need. When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep- Stuck in reverse...

Stepping back in surprise, I looked at up at the blonde woman before me in utter shock. "I've... done... everything you asked," I whispered. My eyes watered as she scoffed, shaking her head.

The woman smirked. "I already told you, sweets. You're not going to make it here. You'll always be scum. Don't ever forget it." And then she turned around and walked away and I sat there, the entire diner looking at me. A part of them looked at me in pity; a part looked at me with cruel smiles of sick satisfaction painted on their faces; some didn't look at all, staring at their food and pretending not to have heard all of what just happened while they over focused on their food. Swallowing, I turned around and moved to the door to leave.

It felt like I was moving through honey, the world seeming to slow and stretch and the moment of absolute horror stretched on mercilessly. Even when I was out of the diner, I still felt my eyes stay wide and on my feet, my body rigid and awkward and my chest constricted. My throat was clogged as well and my hands shook as my head swam with one word over and over again.

Scum. Scum. Scum. Scum.

A horn honked and I finally looked up, blinking as I stared at the person driving the car that had swerved around the corner and screeched to a halt as I stepped out into the street without even realizing or noticing. We made eye contact and the anger on the woman's face turned into shock at my dead expression. We stared at each other for a solid five seconds before I looked away and kept walking. The car door opened though and I looked over slowly again to see that on the passenger's side, there was a girl that looked like the woman who had been driving. Younger but similar. Maybe her daughter.

The girl was blonde like the waitress, but her face was soft and inviting and her smile was warm and friendly. Her eyes were alive with life and those nuances made all of the difference. This girl I could trust. I didn't know how I knew, but I did. She approached me slowly, tilting her head, her mother's car still in the street. "Are you okay?"

I wanted to lie. I always lied. It wasn't hard for me to do. Usually I could conjure a fake smile that seemed real and the nasty words that were dripping with falsehood fell from my mouth with ease. "No." Today was different, though.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

We were still standing in the middle of the road and I was waiting for her to take my arm and guide me away or move to the sidewalk and expect me to follow as I subconsciously would. But she just stood there with me, and I really appreciated it. "I'm not new in town per say," I offered awkwardly. "I mean, I grew up in Riverdale. But, on the South Side. About three months ago my mom... became impossible to live with. So I've moved in with my dad, on the North Side. I was trying to get a job..." I looked back at Pop's, my stomach turning.

The girl reached out for my hand and I looked back at her at the feeling of contact. "What happened?"

A silent sigh rolled through me, dragging at my body. "The lady who runs it told me to get out. I told her about the cleaning jobs I used to do at the White Wyrm, kind of the only job I had back at home. It was all I could put on my resume. Said I was Serpent scum and told me to get out."

Shock hit the girl like a freight train and her head jarred. "Uh..." She didn't seem to know where to begin with that one. "Woman?" she finally managed.

Nodding, I tilted my head back towards Pop's. "The blonde. Missy."

Anger took over the girl's face. She looked at her mom, nodded, and then began walking towards Pop's. Still holding my hand, she simply dragged me after her. I stumbled to keep up, watching her mother drive away after shaking her head.

When we entered the joint, all the people who had been there before were still here. It seemed like at least some of them would have left by now, but no. The two of us walked in and they all looked over, eyes landing on the girl with a warm familiarity and then moving to me with a cascade of confusing emotions. Stress. Shock. Guilt. Confusion. Disgust. Anger. Fear. Curiosity.

Missy was cleaning a counter when the bell above the door went off. The older woman looked up. She saw the blonde girl - whose name I still didn't know - and her face broke into a smile. I was positioned just so that I wasn't yet noticed from where she stood. "Betty!" The woman gushed, putting her rag down on the counter. "What has you wound up, Dear? I bet a good sit down and a shake will-"

Betty - now I knew her name! - pulled me forward, lifting my hand as if I was a piece of evidence. Missy's smile instantly fell away and the tension in the room increased infinitely. Missy looked at me, suddenly nervous, and I was weirdly empowered by the presence of the girl I had quite literally JUST met. "I want to speak to the ONLY person allowed to turn her away," Betty snapped. "Where's Pop?"

That day, I got a job and a new friend.

Not long after that, Betty introduced me to Jughead. The two of us took up immediately, especially once I explained about my past a bit. When Jughead told me he was a Serpent, I told him about my minimal dealing with the gang. Just cleaning up after them for a bit of side cash, really. I usually kept my head down a work and school so very few Serpents if any at all knew my face well enough to place it with a name if asked. He wanted to test that theory and introduced me to his... associates. Toni and him were friends, but Fangs seemed to be passively pleased by his presence only. Sweetpea on the other hand openly detested the Jones boy.

After it was proven that none of them properly recognized me, the trio of long-time Serpents actually attempted to hang out with me more. When Riverdale North Side ended up being too peppy and bright for me, I ended up moving in with Jughead, promising jokingly that I'd keep it clean and regularly cook for the teenage boy. When FP came back, he didn't even acknowledge me as anything except part of the house.

So I guess, in a way, it was all thanks to a feisty blonde who believe that injustice should never be left alone that I now had a stable home, someone I considered a brother and his father who treated me like a daughter, and still managed to keep a proper job. Thanks to her that I had friends who would always have my back and a weirdly positive balance between the North and South Sides of Riverdale. Between my new family, friends, school, and work, it all seemed to come together into this unexpectedly tight knit community. I loved it.

What took everyone by surprise was how well I instantly connected with Sweet Pea.

It wasn't perfect, but it took maybe a week for us to become completely inseparable. He walked me everywhere. From home to school and between classes and from school to work and then from work to home and then repeat, every day. He sat next to me at lunch and we went back and forth with jokes and quips the entire time, cracking each other up. I helped him with homework and tutored him and stood up for him against shit heads who thought they knew and understood things they could never even begin to imagine. He never had a problem with me like he did Jughead. Something about me being too small and innocent and nice...

A few months after we became really close, things started to shift. He would carry my books or hug me more often. Touch me more in general. Legs or arms, brushing too often for it all to be accidental. Lingering hugs and kisses on the forehead or cheek or the back of the hand just to be dorks. Putting his arm around my shoulder all the time. Pulling me onto his lap any time there was even half a problem about where I would sit. And then it stepped up one night when he put his jacket around my shoulders, telling me to wear it because I looked cold. To spare his dignity at the overly obvious flirt, I discreetly took off my sweater so I wouldn't suffocate to death and put the jacket on.

Eventually Cheryl pointed out what we were both tip toeing around. "You know you're like totally into each other, right?"

Sweet Pea and I had exchanged a look and a shrug as he put his arm around me. "Yeah."

I'd smiled. "Hey, wanna date me, Sweets?"

"Stole my thunder!" He accused, acting mock offended. I'd never seen him not be fairly at ease - unless shit was going down and Pea got hard core and serious - but I'd heard that he was really edgy and angry and gruff before I'd come along and smoothed his edges. Think about him becoming this light, happy boy with me made me enjoy moments like all the more. I grinned as he put an arm around me, pulling me closer and planting his lips on my forehead. "I suppose I will though. I'm so boyfriend material."

And then, in the span of a few months, I'd gone from the girl that kept her head down as I avoided gangs and the trouble they caused, getting by and fending for myself, to a girl with a brother and a boyfriend and best friends- all who had my back until death did us part. And, in return, I was there for them too.

The meaning of having someone didn't really hit me until I told Sweet Pea about the story of how Betty and I met. We were sitting in his bed and he pulled me close, my back to his chest, and kissed the top of my head. It was early in the morning and I was emotional about how unnecessarily hard life was for people like us. "If anything like that ever happens again, I'll be there for you," he whispered.

"When," was all I said.

He shifted. "What?"

Looking up at him with a blank expression, I shrugged. "When it happens again."

His face grew very sad and then twisted with pain, getting more into an emotional agony. "When it happens, I'll be there for you."

And he was.

He was there for me when I busted my ass to get the partner I wanted in chemistry because I thought she was smart and hard working like I was, only to prove herself to be a bitch who enjoyed manipulating people and getting close to them only to expose their secrets. He was there for me when school and work combined got too much and I stumbled into his trailer - which at some point I had started coming to instead of the Jones' - and collapsed in his arms and he carried me to bed and I stared at the ceiling, unable to move or speak but also unable to fall asleep. He was there when I had nightmares about my mom's house and woke up screaming, or when I thought about the Ghoulies getting to me or losing him in the serious situations lurking just outside of our perfect bubble of warm safety and complete happiness. He was always there.

I had never had someone keep a promise so perfectly.

I found myself working harder, becoming better. Doing more and being there for him in every way he'd let me and more. Eventually we both found a good place in our relationship and it kind fo took off. We found a pattern and stuck to it.

And something magical began happening. All the piece of me that had forever been scattered and broken started to be collected. Days turned to weeks turned to months and suddenly Sweet Pea and I were telling each other we loved each other and he kissed me and I felt so safe and complete and... whole.

The impossible had happened.

I was happy. I was learning to get over all of the things that dragged me down. The anxiety and self doubt and insecurities and past that had wrecked me. It was all becoming meaningless and the future was wonderfully filled with shining hope.

He was... fixing me.

And the tears come streaming down your face. When you lose something you can't replace. When you love someone, but it goes to waste. Could it be worse?

We were fighting again.

It seemed that's all we did recently. Fight fight fight fight.

Fight about how between work and school and his gang involvement we had no time together anymore. Fighting about what to have for dinner or curfew or who I was hanging out with or who was lingering around him. Fighting about Fangs or Toni or Jughead or Betty or Cheryl or Veronica or Archie or Kevin. Fighting about how I had North and South Side friends. Fighting about how close I was with Jughead, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin when they were all morons who hated us and treated us like garbage. Fighting about whether or not to trust Jughead. Fighting about whether or not to trust Betty. Fighting about Archie and Reggie, who were usually pretty moronic and could be complete assholes but also had a good side that he just wouldn't see and I wouldn't give up on. Fighting about what I was was wearing or why he was gone all the time, coming back beat up and wrecked. Fighting fighting fighting fighting.

One night, Sweet Pea had had enough. "You know what if you have SUCH a problem with the way I lead my life, then maybe you shouldn't be apart of it."

Pain like I had never felt before flared in my chest but my response was to cover it with anger. Exhaustion and hurt like none other coursed through me and all I could manage to say was, "If the way you lead your life is more important than our relationship, then I don't WANT to be apart of it!"

For the first time in our relationship, Sweet Pea looked at me with raging anger and the same seriousness and hardness and roughness I was sure everyone had meant when they talked about how he was before me. "Fine then! Leave."

"Gladly!" I roared. "I'll be back for my stuff- in the morning." the words caught in my throat and Sweet Pea's face suddenly grew incredibly soft as his pain overwhelmed his anger. But I was still angry. I was still tired and emotionally physically exhausted from school and work and this fight that had taken up too much of my sleep already and had been taking up too much of my sleep for weeks now. I grabbed the sweater I had been wearing when I came in from the arm of the couch, where'd I'd put it when I'd taken it off. Then I turned and left, leaving Sweet Pea alone.

Unsure where to go for a second, I left the trailer, got far enough that Sweet Pea wouldn't be able to see me anymore, and then looked around. Only once I spotted the other familiar trailer did I realize my feet had taken me to the only place other than Sweetpea’s I had ever truly called home - the Jones' place.

Nerves filled my stomach as I approached the door at two in the morning, exhausted and finally lacking anger- which was quickly turning into agony that gathered in my eyes and threatened to spill over.

I think Sweet Pea and I had just broken up...

The door, to my surprise, opened. There stood a wary FP Jones, who instantly went into soft, protective dad mode when he saw my pre-crying state. "Y/n?" he whispered, eyes wide with worry. "Come in, come on." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me inside before closing the door. Like a moron I started crying as images and memories flashed through my brain because Sweet Pea used to do that all the time.

I was a pathetic mess.

That thought made my cry harder.

Attempting to stay quiet, I covered my mouth to muffle my sobs, but either Jughead was a light sleeper, he had been awake, I was louder than I thought because suddenly Jughead was in front of me, his concerned eyes matching the expression his dad still wore. FP sat to one side of me as Jug sat to the other. The younger Jones put an around around my waist, pulling me against him. I rested my head on his shoulder, curling into his side as I sobbed hysterically. I dropped my hand and just let it all out. It was pointless to try and muffle it or cover it now.

The insanity of the constant business and lack of sleep. The fear and frustration of losing Sweet Pea but also fighting with him all the time about every little damned thing. The thought that maybe it was a good thing we'd broken up. Wondering if we really had broken up? If it was official. It was all getting to me.

A shocking realization made it hard to breathe and finally I managed to stop crying long enough to wheeze out, "Jug, I... I really love him." We'd said it before and I knew for a while, but now it really hit me. When I was mad and hurt and all I craved was him. When I wasn't busy and he wasn't readily available. When we weren't in a good place and everything was falling apart. When it wasn't good and easy and simple. I still loved him. I loved him when I wanted to hate him. I loved him when I was mad at him and I wanted him when the very sight of his face made me want to start throwing fists. The times when I hated him so much because he had so much of me that he could break and hurt me so easily. Without trying. Without meaning to. I had spent nights imagining a future where we were married and had started a family and vowed to grow old together.

I loved him with a love that never really went away or faded or dimmed. Only changed. The kind that killed you slowly by giving you so much life you overloaded. The kind that drove you crazy and made you jump off of metaphorical - and very literal - cliffs. The kind that made you reckless and irrational. The kind that made you strong and stand straighter and the kind that broke you down until you were nothing. The kind that exposed and then protected you. The kind that changed you. The kind that lasted and stuck in your mind and heart and the very engravings in your soul, forever. The kind that made men become slaves to alcohol and women subject to endless tears. The kind that prompted overwhelmingly passionate poems and songs and exclamations. I LOVED him.

With shaking hands, I added, "I love him with all of me that I will ever have to love with. And it was all for nothing. I'm going to lose him."

Jughead looked at me a long time. He didn’t have an questions anymore, and maybe the easy way he recognized that Sweetpea and I were falling apart was even worse than having to explain everything that happened. It was even worse when he seemed broken for me, only managed to offer a weak, “I'm sorry."

That was when I knew for sure. Jughead didn't even try to think of something to say to make any of it better, and that was when I knew it wouldn't be. I was going to lose Sweet Pea and that was the end of it.

-

forever tag: @iwannadiehere 

[writingfromkitchenator]

Memories

Pure

Pure:  Part 1: Bigger | Part 2: Cookies | Part 3: Run | Part 4: Alone | Part 5: Child

It’s been a long time coming guys and it’s a long one (almost 15,000 words).  I can also confirm that there will be one more part of this series, which I’m hoping will be a very fitting conclusion to definitely my favourite Crowley series that I’ve written so far.

Enjoy!

It had been days now and the longer this went on, the worse Crowley got, no matter what anyone said.

“You just need to let Y/N rest.”  Castiel said again.  “There’s nothing else that can be done.”

“Everything feels fine,” Crowley growled, downing another glass of whiskey.  “You can’t blame me for being worried.”

“No, but we can blame you for being a pain in the arse about it.”  Dean said.  “We’re all worried here.”

“You don’t get to speak Squirrel as you have no idea what it’s like.”  Crowley said coldly.

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Sam kicked him under the table, making Dean glare at him.  “You’re taking his side?”

Sam nods but remains silent, even as Crowley fills up his glass again, seemingly indifferent to the comment.

It was even longer before he came up with an idea.

He’d retreated to your room, having gotten tired of unhelpful company and them tired of him. He was watching you, trying not to let the worry gnaw at him, after all, you were only sleeping.

But there was only so many time he could tell himself that.

He blamed himself, a lot, for what happened, and it was slowly eating away at him that he could do nothing but sit still and wait.  He’d never admit it to anyone but you, but he was scared, scared that it was something this new power was doing to you.

When he’d seen your eyes flash red, he’d felt so much at once that he wasn’t overly sure how he really felt about it.

As he watched you breath easily, an idea came to him, one he wasn’t overly happy about but he knew it would let him find out what was going on.

He hurries out to the others.

“What now?”  Dean groans.  “Why can’t you just sit and wait quietly?”

Crowley shoots him a dark look before looking at Castiel.  “I have a solution.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because to do it, I need your help.”  Crowley said. “And as much as I don’t like it, I think it’s going to be the only way to get her back.”

“If you’re about to suggest what I think you are, why don’t you just do it?”  Castiel frowned.  “Why do you need me?”

“Because I need the tattoo removed first.”  Crowley said.

“You want to possess her?” Sam asked suddenly.  “Crowley I hardly think-”

“It saved you didn’t it?” Crowley snapped.  “Look, the sooner I get Y/N back, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

Dean was looking a little confused.  “Y/N doesn’t have an anti-possession tattoo.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Of course she bloody does, I asked her to get one.”

“You-what?”

“I could hardly have demons coming and taking advantage of her if they found out, could I?”  Crowley asked.  “Especially after Abaddon's threats.”

“Oh, so you protected yourself, well that’s great to know.”  Dean growled.

“It was for both of us, I assure you.  You can’t even begin to imagine what torture-” Crowley shook his head, stopping himself.  “Look, this is beside the point.  I’m trying to help her here dammit.”

“Then let’s go help,” Castiel said.  “This arguing isn’t getting us anywhere and I think this is valid solution.”  He shoots a glare at Dean.  “I would think you should know better.”

“You can’t seriously want him to possess her?”  Dean asked as Castiel followed Crowley out.  “Cas?”

Sam and Dean followed after them.

“Y/N and Crowley are already bound Dean, this will make little difference.”  Castiel said.

“Doesn’t make me feel any better about it.”  Dean grumbled as they entered your room, you still motionless on the bed.

“You’d rather she just kept sleeping?”

“Honestly-”

“Dean, enough dude.” Sam cut in quietly. “Just leave it be.”

Dean folds his arms and falls silent.

Crowley snorts in amusement before carefully lifting up your shirt, the tattoo sitting just above your hip.

“She’s not going to be happy about having to put it back.”  Castiel said, even as he rested his hand over and it starting to glow.

“I’ll deal with that later,” Crowley sat next to you on the bed.  “For the moment I’m more worried about what’s going on now.”

Castiel stepped back. “If you’re sure.”

Crowley rolled his eyes before smoking out and into you.

He was a little stunned when he found himself in a park at the centre of a small town, a few people around.  It wasn’t somewhere he recognised and certainly didn’t recall you ever mentioning something like it.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d turn up.”

Crowley spun and found you smiling tiredly at him from a park bench and he gave a sigh of relief. “Y/N.”  He then looks you over, noting the tired lines under your eyes and the exhausted set in your shoulders, his eyebrows knitting in concern.  “You look terrible love.”

You chuckle weakly. “Thanks.  I like how that’s the first thing you say to me.”

Crowley moves and sits next to you, taking your hand and kissing it.  “I’m sorry love, but if you’re aware of this then why haven’t you come back?”

You held his hand tightly. “I’ve tried, trust me I have, but I’ve been so exhausted that I haven’t managed it.”  You sighed.  “Not only that, I’ve been chasing memories, looks like I lost a fair bit.”

He watched as you looked around the town, eyes a little distant.

“I used to enjoy coming here,” You said quietly.  “It always was something I looked forward to.”

Your gaze moved over to a car pulling up, opposite a white house and Crowley watched amazed as Y/F/N and the younger you got out, Y/F/N picking you up.

“I want to show you something,” You said quietly.  “If you want to of course, although I don’t think it’ll make you feel any better about my father.”

“Well, considering you know what I have planned for him.”

“Exactly.”

Feeling your uncertainty though, Crowley stood and pulled you with him.  “Come.  Show me.”

The world shifted around the two of you, finding yourselves inside a home as a doorbell rang.  A woman stepped out, humming and opening the door with a smile.

“Y/F/N, and here I was thinking that you’d forgotten about me.”

Your father looked grim, the younger you cradled on his arm, head resting on his shoulder.  “This is serious Lia.”

Lia sighed heavily. “What has happened now?  I’ve warned you about keeping her out of this.”

Your father stepped inside, his grip tight on you.  “This is beyond what she’s seeing.  She disappeared for over a day, Y/M/N was distraught, then she just appeared as if nothing had happened, but talking about angels and demons and some…grey man.”

“Dear, I told you she was going to be a magnet to this stuff,” Lia led through to a living room. “There is no helping it.”

“The demon possessed her Lia,” Y/F/N growled.  “Told her some crap about it helping someone that only she could see-”

“It’s true Daddy-”

“Hush Y/N,” He said, a little angrily as he placed you on a lounge.  “You can’t tell me that that is normal Lia.”

Lia still looked unfazed. “You worry too much.  A demon can’t do much in a child’s body-” Crowley snorted.  “-And even then, she seems unfazed by it.”

“Because she doesn’t know any better!”

“And whose fault is that?” Lia folds her arms.  “I’ve warned you plenty of times, especially since the church incident, that she is always going to be involved, and as both her father and a hunter, you should know better, you should be helping her through it.”

Crowley could feel your uncomfortableness but when he cast you a glance, your expression was unreadable.

“She’s not to be involved!”

“Hence why you keep bringing her to a witch,” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up even as Lia stepped forward and cradled Y/F/N’s head between her hands.  “When are you going to learn?”

Y/F/N sighed, holding her there.  “I already have one involved enough in this, I don’t need both.”

“You’re going to get in trouble Daddy.”  Younger you mumbled, not looking at them.

“Be quiet Y/N,” Y/F/N growled.  “This doesn’t concern you.”

She poked her tongue out at him as his attention goes back to Lia.

Crowley could feel your heart aching and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Can you help or not Lia?” Y/F/N asked.  “Or have you just been taunting me with it?”

Lia pouts but is stopped as another small voice comes in.  “Mummy?”

Crowley stares at the young girl, who was watching on with eyes very similar to your own, the only thing giving the truth away.

Younger you perked up and waved.  “Hi Angela.”

Angela frowned at her. “You seem different Y/N.”

“Angel, enough, go back to your room please.”  Lisa said calmly.  “Y/N is in trouble-”

“I didn’t do anything!” Younger you cried, eyes starting to shine.  “I told the truth!”

“Sit down Y/N,” Y/F/N barked.  “You are in enough trouble already.”

Sobbing a little, she sits, her head hanging.

Angela looks at Y/F/N. “What did she do?”

Y/F/N outlook softened and he went and knelt in front of her.  “It’s nothing for you to worry about sweetpea.  Why don’t you go play in your room and I’ll come see you later okay?”

Angela smiles and nods. “Okay Daddy.”

Younger you sniffs.

“I have no recollection of being treated in such a way.”  You said quietly.  “Even looking at ones after this, things weren’t…quite right.”

“It’s not your fault Y/N,” Crowley said.  “You couldn’t have known these things.”

You nod solemnly as Y/F/N returns his attention to Lia.  “Well?”

Lia sighs.  “There is a spell dear, but it is risky.  It could do more harm than good.”

“Will it keep her away from all this?”

“As long as she doesn’t run into anything supernatural, then yes.”

“Then let’s do it,” He said firmly.  “This has gone on long enough.”

Lia looks at younger you, who looked more than a little scared and still upset, before she nods. “Alright, bring her to my room.”

The world shifts again and the three enter a small room, younger you being pulled along by Y/F/N before being forced to sit.

You could feel Crowley tensing.  “There’s nothing you can do Crowley.”

“I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Lia started pulling things out of draws and cupboards, placing them in a bowl on the table.

“Daddy, I don’t like this.” Younger you said.  “I want to go home.”

“It’s just some medicine to make you feel better sweetheart,” Y/F/N said.  “Now sit still.”

Crowley watched as the room began to fill with purple swirling haze, thickening as Lia began to speak, making him glance at you.

“You could see the spell working?”

“Apparently.”

He looked around as the spell continued and for the first time noticed something glowing faintly on a wall.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know,” You said softly.  “There is something on it that you can make out afterwards but it’s not something I recognise.”

There was a bright flash then, making you both squint, and very dark, almost bloodlike liquid sat in the bowl.

Lia poured it into a cup and placed it on the table in front of Y/F/N.  “There you are, all she has to do it drink it.”

Y/F/N looked unsure. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”  Lia nods.  “It should cut off her abilities, make it as if she’s never had them.”

“She’ll forget?”

“It’s possible.  I did say there were side effects.”

Y/F/N stares at the liquid for a moment before picking it up and turning to face younger you. “Alright Y/N, this is going to help.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not giving you an option here.  You’re going to do as I say and drink it.”

Younger you shook her head and tried to scramble away.  “No!”

Y/F/N caught her and held her tight on his lap, his hand clamped around her jaw forcing it open to start pouring the liquid in.

You shudder, the scene going quiet as she continues to struggle, Y/F/N looking blank as he holds her.

Crowley looks at you, your expression drawn and tired looking.

“I can’t stand hearing her scream again,” You said quietly.  “I’ve watched it enough times to be able to replay it without anything.”

“Y/N…”

You shake your head. “There’s still more.”

Younger you went still, just sobbing quietly and continuing to drink, Y/F/N stroking her hair, the unusual ambience in the air starting to fade including the glow from the wall, revealing a symbol before disappearing into a rather primitive looking mask.

“It’s going to be okay Y/N.” He said.  “This will make it all better.”

“You know, for a hunter, you’ve done some bad things Y/F/N.”  Lia said, watching with an amused interest.

He is silent as he pulls the glass away from your lips, now covered in red, eyes empty, and strokes your hair.  “I am simply doing what is necessary.”

Crowley didn’t like seeing you motionless like that and shifted uncomfortably.  “So that got rid of your abilities and memories?”

You nod.  “I’ve been trying to work through it, but there is a lot of black, I still can't find anything about the church they mentioned earlier.  I mean, you don’t remember much when you’re young anyway but…” You shake your head. “I’m not even sure I want to know.”

Everything looked frighteningly normal in the memory now, even as Y/F/N puts you gently back on the chair, pulling out a hanky to start cleaning your face, Lia watching.

“She may be out of it for a few hours.”  She said quietly.  “May be time for the three of us to catch up a bit.”

Y/F/N paused a little before he sighed.  “Will she be right on her own?”

“Of course.  You know nothing happens in this house without me knowing.”

Y/F/N nods, bends and kisses your head, before turning and leaving with Lia.

Crowley was furious. “You cannot be serious?  That they put you through that and left you?”

“I said you wouldn’t like it,” You said through a sigh.  “But yes, and they aren’t even aware I’m conscious.”

The only thing that gave it away was the tear that shed down your cheek.

Crowley’s chest ached, if it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have bat an eye, but this was you and he knew this would weigh on you.

“I’m sorry love,” He said quietly, pulling you into him, you not resisting.  “I’m sorry you have been through all this.”

“It’s not the worst of it,” You mumble against him, having missed him.  “It’s only partly why I haven’t come back.”

“What’s the other part?”

Just then, your hands clenched in Crowley’s jacket, a heavy groan leaving you as you tensed, the memory flickering into others, some Crowley recognised, and within that were flickers of what you should’ve been able to see.

You slumped as the small room came back into focus, Crowley holding you up.

“Y/N, what was that?” He tried to hold back the concern in his voice, but it just made you chuckle weakly.

“That’s the damn power trying to right itself.”  You said, the exhaustion clear.  “Seems it’s been muted this whole time, now it wants to try and see everything.”

Crowley was silent for a long moment, holding you as you regathered.  “Is this my fault love?”

“No.”

“Y/N-”

“Crowley, I mean it, don’t.” You mumbled, still not moving. “This is not your fault, I think it was going to be bound to happen anyway, ever since I got into the hunter life. I guess the grey man was the final kick.”

Crowley’s jaw clenches, watching as you struggled to right yourself, the lines under your eyes heavier.

He cups your cheek and gives you a small smile before he rests his head against yours.  “Come love, I think it’s time we got you out of here.”

With a soft kiss, you felt yourself pulled away, almost through a whirlwind of colour before you slowly blinked up at the bunker lights before groaning, your body aching.

“Easy love,” Crowley’s arms wrapped around you, helping you sit.  “You’ve been through a lot.”

“Water?”  You managed to croak only to find a glass already there. “Thank you.”

All four men were silent as they watched you drink before you have a heavy sigh and rest back.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“One hundred percent.”

Sam winched.  “I’m sorry Y/N, we’ve just all been worried.”

You look at them through half closed eyes.  “Well, I’m still kicking, that counts for something right?”

Just then, a bolt of paint went through your head, making you hiss in pain as you tried to blink the bleariness from your vision.

Crowley was the first to come into focus.  “Are you alright?”

“I think I’ll be getting those for a while,” You rubbed your head.  “Hopefully it’ll be something I can basically turn on and off, otherwise that’s going to be very distracting.”

“Your sight is breaking through?”  Castiel asked and you nodded.  “How did you lose it?”

You sighed and let Crowley help you off of the bed.  “A long story, one I’d like to tell with food in my stomach.”

Crowley ended up doing most of the explaining, you wanting to actually eat a meal, hunger curling painfully away in your stomach.

Sam, Dean and Castiel had mostly listened, although it was clear that they didn’t like it any more than the two of you did.

“So that pretty much reiterates that your Dad is a dick,” Dean said.  “And that there is another pure blood out there.”

You shake your head slowly. “Not necessarily.  Angela was born from a witch, meaning she could just be a witch.”

“Or human,” Crowley said. “Which, in all honesty, let’s hope that.”

“Since when has our luck ever been that good?”  You take a long drink.  “Either way, I have a feeling that they are going to be the best bet for finding Y/F/N.”

There were looks shared that you missed as you ate some more food.

“You can’t seriously want to find him still?”

You looked at Sam, who, besides Crowley, looked the most concerned.  “Of course I do, as much as it’s probably not the wisest decision, he’s the one with the answers.”

“He’s also likely to kill you given what’s happened.” Sam said.

“I’d like to see him try.” You and Crowley said together, making Dean flinch.

“You guys just keep making this weirder.”  He grumbled.

“I can make it weirder if you want,” You said flatly, making him stare at you.  “Or are you going to grow up a little Dean?”

“They share a profound bond now Dean,” Castiel spoke up.  “Chances are, they are both now capable of things that we would never understand.”

“That’s reassuring.” Crowley said.  “But I’d much prefer knowing what.”

Castiel shrugs.  “We may never know.  A demon and a Pure Blood have never been together before.  It could have a vast number of affects that we just don’t know about.”

“Always comforting Feathers,” Crowley growled.  “I would’ve thought that anything adverse would’ve happed by now.”

“In all fairness Crowley, I didn’t even realise that other stuff was happening.”  You said with a small sheepish smile.  “And neither did anyone else except Sam.”

“Something I’m still not overly happy about.”  Crowley said. “But for all we know that could be it.”

“It also couldn’t.” Sam said.  “Demon’s are incredibly powerful-”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Crowley quipped.

Sam’s jaw clenched, but he continued.  “It could bring out a number of things that we haven’t seen before.”

“As long as she doesn’t start making giant suicidal teddy bears, I’m good.”  Dean said, making three of you frown and Sam rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Jokes aside, I think you’re going to be better off taking it slow Y/N.” Sam looked at you seriously. “You’ve been through a lot and the last thing we want to do is push you beyond what you can control.”

“What exactly are you trying to say Sam?”

“Let us deal with it,” He looked at Dean, Castiel and Crowley for support as you frowned at him. “Let us find out what we can and when we think the time is right, we’ll tell you.”

“You want me to sit on the bench?”  You asked a little incredulously, seeing agreeance across their faces.

“It would be better for the moment love,” Crowley said gently.  “Especially if you keep getting-”

He was cut off as you suddenly drew in a deep breath of pain, your hand clenching the table as pain seared through your head, your knuckles turning white.

You weren’t even aware of Crowley’s hand on you until the pain faded, and even then, you had to focus on your breathing before you dared open your eyes.

“Those.”  Crowley finished, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze.  “Are you alright?”

You looked up and winced, clearly seeing what younger you had been seeing, Sam and Dean both having an energy around them, Castiel’s wings tucked in neatly behind him.

Crowley felt the tension in your shoulders.  “You can see it, can’t you?”

Mutely, you nod, dropping your head down, your eyes hurting.

He sits next to you, taking your hand.  “Look at me love.”

“It hurts.”

“Please.”

Wincing a little, you look at him, the red very clear, but he wasn’t as hard to look at as the others and he brushed the tears away.

“You aren’t going to be up to doing much with that going on,” He said.  “Especially when it hurts to see.”

You sigh and close your eyes, the pain getting too much.  “I don’t like sitting still.”

“None of us do,” Dean said. “But when you are down and out, there’s not much you can do.”

“I’m still capable of handling myself,” You said a little angrily.  “And who know what danger Y/F/N could throw at us with two witches behind him.”

“Exactly.”  Crowley said gently.  “Which puts you in greater danger.”

“But-”

“Either way, you look like shit Y/N.”  Dean cut in. “Let us handle it for you.  We’ll drag you in when we’ve got enough.”

You looked at Dean, trying to ignore your wavering vision.  “I don’t want you guys sticking your necks out for me.”

“We can handle ourselves.” Dean said, then nods at Crowley. “Please, you know he’s not going to let you do anything.”

The argument went on, but the four of them wouldn’t have it, especially after another moment that had your vision return to normal but with no less amount of pain.

It was agreed that your time would be spent between the bunker and the apartment, depending on who was helping with what and you could at least help with research.

You didn’t like it, but with your headaches only getting worse, there wasn’t much choice.

Neither you or Crowley could expect the next problem that come along though.

It was a good day, something that you were grateful for, but you were still unwilling to leave the apartment you and Crowley shared, mostly because you’d noticed that it was always worse in the bunker.

You were sitting, reading, when there was knock on the door, making you frown.  You were meant to be left alone by staff, that was the arrangement that Crowley had made.

The knock came again, this time followed by a voice.  “House keeping.”

The voice sounded foreign, something you hadn’t noticed around here before, making your frown deepen, hunting instinct kicking in even as you went to the door.

“I didn’t order anything.” You said through the door.

“Oh?  No tea or cakes dear?”

“No thank you, you are meant to leave this room alone.”

There was a low curse and you had just enough time to leap back from the door before it burst open, a fiery red head stepping inside.

Your vision blurred for a moment and you hurriedly blinked it away.  “Well, at least you’re a witch and not a vampire, mind you, I’m not too fond of either.”

The woman was calm and collected, putting on a charming smile that made you raise an eyebrow.  “I only wish to talk dear.”

“If you wanted to talk, I wouldn’t have recommended breaking down my door.”  You said, eyeing her carefully.  “Now, I’m going to give you one chance to leave.”

The woman smiled though, the door repairing itself behind her as she stepped inside.  “Oh no dear, I’m not leaving till I get what I want.”

 Crowley’s phone rang and he was irritated for a moment until he saw it was you, answering straight away. “Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“I’m wonderful Crowley, how are you?”

Crowley frowned, noting the several tense emotions in your voice.  “I’m fine.  Has something happened love?”

“No, well, unless your mother paying me a visit counts?”

Crowley went to you in an instant.  “My mother?”

You hang up your phone, a glass full of ice and whiskey help to your head.  “Yes, your mother.”  You nodded to the other side of the room.

Rowena was strapped to a chair with iron huffs, a bruise forming under one eye and blood caked her nose. She still smiled.  “Hello Fergus.”

Crowley groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure the little harlot doesn’t distract her boy from his throne.”  Crowley looked at you and you shrugged.  “Her words, not mine.”

He glared back at Rowena. “You’ve been spying on me?”

Rowena looks at him innocently.  “Only because you seemed so distracted all the time.  I had to make sure that the King of Hell was performing at his best.”

Crowley’s anger was palpable.  “So you do it by attacking my wife?”

Honestly, it was hard to tell who was more surprised at this, you or Rowena.

Rowena scoffed.  “I hardly hear your little demons talking about a queen.”

Crowley blanched at this, realising what he said, casting a glance at you as you raised an eyebrow, before he shook his head at Rowena.  “It’s complicated, I wouldn’t trust any of those blunder heads anywhere near her.”

Rowena raised any eyebrow. “You’re telling me that you are dating a human?”

“A hunter more specifically,” You cut in, ignoring the small look of panic from Crowley.  “Hence why you are beaten and tied to a chair.”

“I wouldn’t get too cocky dear,” Rowena clipped.  “Humans are awfully frail.”

You growled, your eyes flashing, despite the pain it put through you.

Crowley grabbed you, holding you back.  “”She’s not worth it Y/N.”  He then frowns at a cut on your forehead, touching it gently.  “Are you alright?”

“She hit me with a lamp.” You said, annoyed.  “Some all-powerful witch she is.”

“Hold your tongue.”

“Or you’ll what?  Yell at me some more?”  You and Rowena glared at each other.  “I think I proved exactly what I think of your witchcraft.  If it wasn’t for the fact that you talked so much, you’d be nothing but a puddle on the floor.”

“Your wife is adorable Fergus, but I suggest she learn her place.”  Rowena turned an angry gaze on Crowley.  “I will not be mocked.”

“In all fairness mother, I have little doubt, should she be pushed to it, that she could render you as much less than a puddle on the floor.”  Crowley said, ignoring the darkening of Rowena’s gaze.  “But as for her place, she knows it very well and there’s no chance in heaven or hell that you are going to change that.”

He snapped his fingers and Rowena rubs her wrists, her eyes narrowing.

“I hope she hasn’t made you soft Fergus.”  She said darkly.  “Because that’s not going to work out for anyone.”

“And I suggest you keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand.”  He said coldly.  “You so much as touch her again and there will be nowhere you can hide from me.”

Rowena brushed herself down as she stood.  “I’m only trying to protect you Fergus.  I have that right as your mother.”

“Well don’t,” Crowley growled, even as you went to talk, making his stance clear.  “Not from Y/N.”

Rowena clearly didn’t approve, looking between the two of you for a moment before putting on her most charming smile that made your stomach twist.  “I’m here to support you dear, so whatever you want, I am happy with.”

“Get out.”  You cut Crowley off this time.  “Now.”

Rowena bows a little. “Of course dear, it was such a pleasure to meet you.”

Crowley sighed.  “Just go Mother.”

Rowena tuts, but leaves, leaving just the two of you.

“What a vile woman,” You growled, draining your glass before shooting him a glare.  “Any reason you didn’t tell me she showed up?”

“Because the less you have to do with her, the better.”  He said gently, watching you closely.  “Are-”

“I’ve got a hell of a headache Crowley, I don’t recommend asking me that again.”  You said angrily.  “Now-”

Before you could move or say anything, Crowley pulled you to him, wrapping you securely in his arms, making you sigh.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”  He said quietly.  “If I thought that she’d find you, I would’ve put more things in place.”

You wanted to argue, something you could tell he knew by the tension in his arms, but your head was hurting too much to do so, groaning and burying against him.

Crowley looked at you a little guiltily, everything coming through about how you were feeling, about how frustrated you were.

He kissed the top of your head.  “How about I run you bath love?  Then I think it might be best if you spend a few days with Sam and Dean.”

“That makes my head worse.” You mumble.

“I know,” He said gently, rubbing your back.  “But until I can ensure that Mother won’t find you again, it’s going to have to be necessary.”

You looked at him. “We’re going to have to move?”

Crowley presses a chaste kiss to your lips.  “Temporarily. Until I decide what to do with her.”

You didn’t like it and it clearly showed.

He smiled though. “It’s only rough now love, I promise it will get better.  Our time is just around the corner.”

“It’s a long bloody corner.” You grumbled, settling against him again, making him chuckle.

“It’ll be worth it.” He then starts to guide you towards the bathroom.  “I promise. Now, let’s get you relaxed to clear your head again.”

“Will you join me?”

“If you ask nicely.”

“Crowley…”

“I’m not going anywhere love.”

You smile at this and then glance at him.  “So, wife huh?”

He winces, giving a small frown before he looks at you.  “Too soon?”

You chuckle. “Crowley, we are bound anyway.”

“Yes, well, it’s not technically in a way a husband and wife is bound…”

“Does it matter to you?”

Crowley blinked, staring at you.  “Well, no-not if it doesn’t to you.”

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek.  “Relax Crowley, I was simply curious.  As long as I am yours, you can call me whatever you want.”

He returns your smile. “As I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

 Life back at the bunker was hardly ideal, retreating a lot to your room, unable to stand long periods of time with the boys or Castiel, your head aching too much.  What was worse, was Crowley had limited his visits to protect you, Rowena apparently being even more annoying that she had been.

So to say you were feeling just a little miserable was an understatement.

It wasn’t to say that they weren’t trying to make you comfortable, keeping you stocked with books and food and company when you could handle it, but you didn’t like being kept out of discussions on how they were doing on finding your extended family.

Dean was working extra hard and you knew he was trying to make it up to you, not that he would admit it.

Sam was your most regular companion, often trying to keep things normal for you, something you were grateful for, but it didn’t stop you noticing his occasional looks of concern, especially when your headaches were worse.

Castiel would often be the best relief, drugs doing little against the pain, but he was limited with what he could do, both power wise and your own body reacting.  You’d quickly worked out that letting him sooth the pain too long, it would make it a lot worse later.

Apart from that, it was often best to avoid the angel, he tended to be the one to ask awkward questions, one’s you didn’t have answers for, so you just avoided it.

Finally, after what felt like too long, you felt like your head was finally starting to settle a bit and you were actually getting some control over your abilities.

That was when you walked in on them talking.  You knew Crowley had turned up but it wasn’t unusual for him to talk to them first, but you weren’t expecting them to fall silent as you entered the library.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Crowley was first to react. “How are you feeling love?”

You frown.  “Pretty good actually, no drama’s yet.”  You looked between them all.  “Well, apart from the four of you standing there looking very awkward.”

The only one who didn’t flinch was Crowley.

“You can tell me what’s going on you know,” You said.  “It’s not like I’m going to pass information onto anyone or anything.”

It was meant as a joke but it just made them more uncomfortable.

Crowley clear his throat. “It’s not that we don’t want you to know love, it’s just that we’d prefer you not to, for your own protection.”

You looked at him. “You found them?”

“Yes,” Sam said before anyone could answer.  “We want to go in and check it out, then we can decide what to do next.”

It was clear they expected you to be angry over this, but you just shrugged.  “Okay, just don’t do anything without me.”

“You’re not mad?” Dean asked, still looking concerned.

“I’m finally starting to feel better, to be able to actually see normally again without pain flaring through my head, the last thing I want to do is jump start all that crap again.” You said.  “So go see what’s going on, and be careful about it, I don’t want to have to come to the rescue.”

Dean snorts but you raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t push your luck Dean, I mean it.”  You said seriously.  “You four are prone to trouble, hate to have to ruin your reputations by coming in and saving the day.”

Sam, Dean and Castiel clearly didn’t know how to react, but Crowley stared at you.

“That was terrible love.” He said.

You grinned.  “I know, I couldn’t help myself.”

“You were joking?” Dean asked.

“Well, I still don’t want to have to come save you, but yes.”  You sit, giving a small smile.  “Again, I’d rather not have to be recovering seriously again.”

“Agreed,” Crowley said. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

You stared at him. “I’m a big girl Crowley, I can handle myself.”

Amusement flashes across his gaze but he still looks serious.  If anything happens-”

“I’ll call.” You promised. “You don’t have to worry about me all the time.”

The four of them planned a bit more before heading off, leaving you in somewhat peace in the bunker.

Crowley checked in regularly, often with messages to make you laugh, something you were grateful for, especially when small headaches plagued you still.

It was a couple of days before you felt an unease settle in your gut.  You’d simply been reading and trying out moving small objects, but suddenly you couldn’t focus on any of that.  You didn’t say anything, not wanting to make them worry more than what they already did, but the longer it went on, the worse it got.

Then you stopped hearing from them.

It took a lot of effort to stay calm, the feeling not helping, and it wasn’t until you paced back through the bunker for the hundredth time that you suddenly paused, a sudden thought coming to you.

The symbol that you’d seen in Lia’s house, the one that had been nagging at you, that you felt like you'd seen before but couldn't place, you suddenly had a thought as to where.

You quickly pulled out one of the few books on pure bloods that you'd read a dozen or more times so long ago, flicking through until you found it.

“Shit.”  You were dialling Crowley's number before you could even think about it.

When it answered, you just started talking.  “Crowley, listen.  Do you remember that symbol that we saw?  I finally know what it is and I need you guys to come back now, this is bigger than all of us and we are going to need one hell of a-”

“My, my, you do talk a lot.”

You froze, heart hammering as you straightened out.  “Lia.”

“Ah, so the memories have come back.  Well, I did warn him it would happen.”

“Where's Crowley?” You growled.  “And the others?”

“Oh, they're all here, happily waiting for you.”  There was an odd note in her voice that you didn't like.  “Y/F/N is particularly keen, he's been so worried.”

You grit your teeth. “You do anything to them-

“That's going to depend on how long you take, isn't it?  I suggest running along now, I'm sure I can think of some interesting uses for demons blood after all.”

The line went dead, making you curse and breath for a few moments, swallowing the panic.

They'd sent you the address, so that was no issue, but the thought of going in blind and without backup were not pleasing thoughts.

There was only one person who came to mind that would be of any use.

 The house itself had changed little from what Crowley had seen in your memories, although there were a few more pictures around of not one, but two grown up children, still sharing the same eyes, something that gave Crowley an even worse taste in his mouth than just being in this situation to begin with.

He'd warned the three of them against trying to get into the house, but as usual, they didn't listen. Now Castiel was god knows where, Sam and Dean were tied and gagged on chairs and he was stuck in a very elaborate devils trap that, had he been in a better mood, would have actually admired.

When Lia had answered his phone to talk to you, he'd been furious.

“I hope you realise what wrath you have just brought upon yourself,” He said, a little cheerier than what he felt.  “Y/N is not someone to be taken lightly.”

Lia scoffs, tossing his phone down.  “Trust me demon, I am well aware of what trouble I'm about to bring into my home and I am well prepared for it.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Crowley said.

Lia observes him before giving a smile.  “What? Is she the type to think that a few demon powers she can hardly use will be enough?  Or perhaps she thinks that a simple witch killing bullet to my heart will do it?”  She walks closer to the trap, holding Crowley's gaze.  “This has been planned for years, and no false king of hell and his tainted demon bride is going to stop it.”

Crowley bit his tongue, drawing blood as he refrained from several unpleasant things that he wanted to say.  “Underestimating her is going to be your downfall, I promise.  Y/N is unpredictable, and if you think she's going to let you use us against her, then you have another thing coming.”

The door opened, Angela walking in, carrying the same air and poise as her mother.  “Does the demon ever stop talking?”

“Most demons don't dear,” Lia said, ignoring Crowley's comment and following glare.  “We shall have a guest soon.”

Angela grins. “Good.  We have a lot to catch up on.”

“I can't imagine it's going to be good family bonding.”  Crowley growled.

Angela looks at him and smirks, before her and Lia exit, leaving the three of them in the room.

“Dammit,” Crowley snarled and then glares at Sam and Dean, who are struggling against the ropes. “If anything happens to Y/N, you two are dead.”

Dean growls in response, tugging hard at the rope.

“I told you that there'd be things in this house,” Crowley toed the edge of the trap, but knew there was nothing to be done.  “But no, just another witch hunt, being easy as pie.”

Sam huffs in annoyance.

Crowley eyes the room, taking everything in.  It looked the same, but something felt very different.  “You better hope Y/N comes in with some sort of plan boys, otherwise I think this could be the end of all of us.”

He didn't like feeling cut off from you and the longer it went on, the worse he felt.

It was a few days and Lia was clearly agitated, pacing in the room.

“Ugh, you would think that she would've been here by now.”

Angela was flicking through a book.  “Maybe your plan of using them against her backfired?”

“Or she's just a coward,” Lia growls.  “Should've known-”

“Watch your tongue,” Crowley growled.  “I assure you, you won’t know what hit you.”

Lia smiles.  “I have to say, it’s oddly adorable seeing a demon in love, shame it won’t mean much once this over.”

Crowley scowls.  “Is that all you witches are capable of? Talking?  Or underestimating?  I can’t decide which one is more pathetic to be honest.”

“Like that means much coming from a demon.”  Lia scoffs. “All your kind do is manipulate words.”

“We’re at least good at it,” Crowley said.  “You two are saying words for words sake.  Keep that up when Y/N gets here and she’ll crush you under her boots.”

Lia laughs.  “Oh, I’d like to see the little pure blood try.” She draws out a knife.  “As for you, I think I need to give her a little more motivation.”

Crowley rolls his eyes. “Please.  Do your worst.  Torturing is what I do, if you think a little knife is intimidating, I’ll gladly show you my collection.”

“Like I’d torture a demon with an ordinary knife,” Lia purred just stopping at the edge of the devil’s trap.  “This is more than enhanced enough to have you screaming as a babe fresh from the womb.”

At that moment, the lights in the room flickered, making Angela stand quickly and Lia look around.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Sam and Dean jumped as you appeared between them, looking calm and collected.

“Y/N-” Crowley started but Lia threw up her hand, something flashing around the trap, silencing Crowley, who scowls.

“So, you do decide to grace us with your presence,” Lia smiles.  “Not a coward after all.”

“Last I checked, coward and hunter didn’t exactly belong together.”  You said and then pointed at the knife.  “Tell you what, you get rid of that and we can have a nice simple conversation.”

They all just looked at you for a moment.

“Do you really think you’re here just to talk?”  Angela spat, making you look at her.

“Of course not,” You said, a slow smile coming to you.  “Angela right?  Or, what was it?  Sweetpea? My, my, you let yourself go didn’t you?”

Fury crossed her expression. “Like you are one to talk.”

You shrugged.  “Take it how you want, but I see straight through you.”

Crowley stared at you, a little stunned and more than worried, but the hint was clear.  There was more going on here than what they could see.

“Now, as for that knife,” It flew out of Lia’s hand before she could react, burying into the wall near Sam.  “There we go, that’s a bit better now isn’t it?”

“You think getting rid of the knife is going to mean much girl?”  Lia scoffed. “We are witches!  We could kill you where you stand!”

You smiled, opening your arms a little.  “Believe it or not, I had noticed.  The place was warded to the teeth, took me a little bit to work out how to get around, but the sheer fact I did should really make you question how afraid I am of you.”

Stepping a little closer, you take a quick glance around.  “It really hasn’t changed much, has it?  Mind you, the traps certainly stand out.”  You point to an empty space in the middle of the room.  “I have to say that one’s awfully nice, did you put that together just for me?”

The spell was launched fast, but you’d been expecting it, diving behind the lounge, grinning at Sam and Dean as they had muffled voices against their gags.

“You arrogant child, you haven’t changed at all have you?”  Lia snarled.  “Still thinking that you are completely infallible.”

“I don’t know about that.” You said.  “I’m surprised you remember me at all considering how much you’ve changed.”

You moved just in time as another blast rocks through the air, a part of couch blasting away.

“For someone that doesn’t want to kill me yet,” You shouted.  “You’re doing a piss poor job of showing it.”

Sam was struggling against his ropes, as was Dean, both seeing the situation getting out of hand, Crowley watching desperately.  Sam suddenly tensed as he felt something cool pressed in his hand.  He glanced at the wall, seeing the knife gone, so he closes his hand and feels it, catching your eye momentarily before you focused back on hand.

Sam swallows and starts to cut through the ropes.

“The spell is to immobilise you,” Angela said.  “Then we can focus on killing you.”

“Cute,” You drew your gun, glancing over the lounge.  “Shame you actually have to hit me first Sweetpea.”

Lia launches another spell, making you move, standing up and firing.

The bullets never hit.

Lia grins.  “Little bullets like that don’t work on us.”

“Well, it was worth the shot.”  You toss your gun down with a shrug, it landing between Sam and Dean.  “Figured you’d be smarter than that though.”

Crowley didn’t understand what was happening, and it was clear from Sam and Dean’s expression that they didn’t either.  You were too calm for this, too casual, but Crowley wasn’t about to doubt that you knew what you were doing.

A thoughtful expression crossed you.  “Although, that may be a bit too much credit considering what you are involved in, especially you Sweatpea, this is a dangerous game that you are playing.”

“Shut up!”  Angela shouts, launching yet another spell, but this time you don’t dodge, the spell stopping mid-air before it hits you.

You tilt your head with a smile, enjoying the stunned expressions.  “Little spells like that don’t work on me.”

Crowley saw straight through it though, he saw the strain it was putting on you to do that.  The longer he looked though, the more he realised that something else was very off about you too, and it was making him uncharacteristically anxious.

A small wave of your hand and the spell vanished.  “So, it seems we’re at a little bit of an impasse here.”

Lia scoffs.  “Trust me girl, we have a lot more tricks up our sleeves. There is going to be no easy way out of this for you.”

“Life isn’t easy,” You shrugged.  “I’m used to it.”

Another spell, this one you let move around you, cracking hard into the wall behind you.  “Didn’t we just establish that it wasn’t going to work?”

You felt the air crackle too late though, the spell having reformed after hitting the wall and you were blasted forward, tumbling over the lounge and into the circle that was laid out for you.

“Now you little bitch, why don’t you just-ah!” Lia and Angela both leap back as a burning light surrounds you, making everyone look away, the circle burning through the ground leaving deep dark lines.

You vanished.

Lia’s eyes burn with fury. “Witchcraft?  You dare use witchcraft on us?!”

Crowley shared a look with Sam and Dean, all of them confused and wondering how you could possibly know witchcraft too.

Then Crowley groaned, realising what you had done.

“Show yourself!”  Lia growled.  “Or we will make you!”

They hardly waited, both of them starting a spell that made the room feel heavy and dangerous, the air crackling with magic, but even as the spell continued, there seemed to be no effect.

Angela cursed.  “She couldn’t even come in person!  I think it’s time that we start to just kill these unnecessary ones off!”

She draws a knife and starts stalking towards Sam and Dean, Sam quickly calculating what was going to do, the knife firmly held in his hand behind him, the ropes free.

The knife launched from Angela’s hand, flying across the room and straight into yours as you stepped into the doorway.

You smiled, leaning against the doorway, tossing the knife in the air and catching it.  “Well, while not entirely to plan, I’m certainly glad to know that the two of you can’t be a bit more creative.”  Everyone stared at you.  “Oh?  I'm sorry, did you really just expect me to charge in here?”

Still getting no response, you sighed.  “Underestimating a hunter, tut tut.  You two aren't the only ones to be able to elaborately plan you know?  Makes me sad to think that we are even related at all.”

“We are not related.” Lia spat.  “Enough of-“

“No, we are definitely not,” You cut her off and held up the knife, letting your sight shift.  “Isn't this a pretty thing?  I'm guessing it took some serious work to get this together.”

Lia screeches and another spell is launched at you, one you quickly dodge, the wall scorching.

“I'm sorry,” You smirked. “Am I delaying your plans by not cooperating?”

Lia goes to launch another spell but Angela holds up her hand.  “Don't.” Lia glares at her.  “She's protected.  Whoever she got to help has done a damned good job of it.”

“I'm sure she'd like to hear that.”  You step a little into the room, looking over at the trap now scorched to the floor. “Well, that certainly worked better than expected.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet Crowley's and he knew instantly that you were terrified, that all this was an act, a distraction, for what, he wasn't entirely sure and sure as hell wished he could ask. He didn’t like seeing you like this.

“Don't kid yourself,” Lia spat.  “It's still more than capable of holding you.”

“Shame I have to be in it to do it then.” You said and then looked around.  “Well, it seems we're missing someone from this little party.  Care to tell me Y/F/N is?”

Angela laughs.  “You really want to see Daddy dearest?”

“Not really but you did offer.” You held her gaze, all expression of amusement gone.  “So I suggest we get this show on the road, yes?”

The two of you hold each other’s gaze for a long moment and Crowley started to realise that the real challenge was between the two of you, making him look at Lia, wondering what could possibly be going on.

Angela smiles and turns to the back of the room, muttering a spell that allowed the wall to fade, showing Lia's workshop behind, Y/F/N tied unconscious to a chair, another intricate circle beneath him.

You raised an eyebrow. “Um, wow, I can't say I was expecting that.”  You seemed to think for a moment, glancing at Sam, before back again.  “You realise there's a true vessel of Lucifer sitting right there don't you?”

Sam, Dean and Crowley stare at you while Lia scoffs.

“An unwilling one,” She snarls.  “One that got him thrown back into that damned cage.”

“True,” You agreed slowly. “But Y/F/N isn't exactly going to be willing to this, is he?”

“He doesn't need to be,” Angela said.  “Once our spell is complete, Daddy dearest won't even be there anymore.”

“Right, but-” Lia attacks again and this time you push it aside.

There was no hiding it this time, you trembled from the effort.

Lia grins.  “How many more of those can you do, little pure blood?”

You steady your breathing. “As many as necessary, especially if it means taking down you two idiots in the process.”

Another spell, this one catching you off guard a little, straining your power just a little more than you would've liked, making your head throb, but you ignored it, knowing that they weren't going to back down.

“You know, I’ve just about had enough of this.”  You growled. “You two are clearly insane if you think it’s a good idea to break Lucifer out of his cage, and I don’t give a flying toss about any sort of prophetic bullsh-”

You only just managed to dive out of the way this time, the knife flying from your hand; two spells launched at once, sending both Sam and Dean crashing to the ground.  With a shift of power you knew was unwise, you sent the lounge flying towards them, only for it to vanish and leaving you without any cover.

“You can pretend to know what’s going on all you want Y/N,” Lia spat.  “But I promise you will never understand the full extent.”

Breathing hard, you return to your feet, the pain in your head increasing but you had to keep ignoring it, smirking.  “What? You mean the sacrificing of a powerful pure blood to resurrect Lucifer isn’t what’s going on here?  Honestly, I didn’t think it made much sense either but whatever keeps you going I guess.”

“You know nothing!” Lia and Angela both threw two spells at you and you only just managed to brace yourself, the air crackling around you and realised, as there was a shimmer of energy, that they’d removed the spell protecting you.

You had just enough time to straighten back up, gaze dark, before a flare of pain through your head took you off guard, making you cry out in pain and stagger slightly, the world blurring before you.  You didn’t hear Sam, Dean or Crowley try to shout, but you did feel a knife slip into your lower back.

A sharp intake of breath had you freeze as the pain suddenly died from your head, focused entirely on the pain now radiating through your back, feeling your power drain.

Another hand grabbed you as you tried to bring yourself back into focus, the world swimming before you, and the hand kept you up.

“Where do you want her Mother?”  The voice was male, but it was also void of emotion and any feeling, and you knew instantly that he was under some sort of spell.

Lia grins, triumphant. “In the circle please Ryder, there’s a good boy now.”

Your legs struggled to move as Ryder led you forward towards the circle.  You wanted and tried to fight, but the knife was only twisted, making you hold back another cry.

“Remember, don’t join her in there.”  Lia warns, stepping around as Ryder then shoves you forward, the knife pulling free and you collapse to your knees in the middle of the circle.

You felt it instantly, the air around you shifting and trapping you in place even as you breathe hard, glaring up at Lia and Angela, ignoring Ryder behind you.

“There, now isn’t that better?”  Lia asked.

“I don’t think you’d like it if I answered honestly.”  You said, feeling blood quickly soaking down your back.  “I guess the plan is to just let me slowly bleed to death huh?”

Angela scoffs. “Expecting to get a say in the matter? You forfeited that right years ago.”

You didn’t dare look at Crowley, didn’t even dare to glance his way, you knew what you’d find there. “Did I?  Must have been a good decision then.”

There was a blow hard across your face as Lia hit you, but you didn’t go down, just looking back at her with cold eyes.

“Insolent child,” She scowled.  “You could’ve had the whole world if you wanted it.” She looks at Angela.  “Get the ritual started.”

Angela moves away, grinning, and Lia kneels down to your level to hold your gaze.

“You don’t remember do you?” She asked with a cold smile.  “You don’t remember the church?”

You swallowed and licked your lips which suddenly felt too dry.  “Well, I thought that would be a given, considering the spell work that was put on me, but you know that, you watched it all happen.”

She looks a little surprised.  “You can see me though?  Now that is something I never thought you’d never be able to do again.”

“Everything,” You growled. “Guess it wasn’t hard for Angela to work a little spell like that, even on her own mother, not under guidance such as yours.”

Lia laughs.  “And you are assuming you know who I am, you are adorable.”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “You’re Morgan Le Fay, a rather unfortunate namesake really, considering I’m sure the real Morgan Le Fay, should she have ever actually existed, would’ve easily wiped the floor with you.”

Her smiles fades, turning to a dark glare.  “So, the little pure blood actually did her research.”

“You and your little Lucifer mad cult were taken down by the Men of Letters in the 18th century, but you were conveniently the only one unaccounted for.”  You tried to straighten yourself, tried ignoring the throb from the wound in your back and the slow puddle of blood that was forming. “I’m guessing, that little mask I remember seeing, is where you’ve been hiding all these years, biding your time.”

Lia, or Morgan, sneered at you.  “Well, with hardly any pure bloods around in that time, I knew I had to do something, especially with those bastard letter men on my tail.  So yes, I got myself out of the picture, managed to get picked up by a gypsy camp who believed I gave them good luck.  I knew I only had to bide my time before another witch found me and I could start my plan again, so I waited.”

“Let me guess though,” You fought back a shudder from the pain.  “Lia was too strong simply to just take over.”

Morgan snorts.  “That type of spell requires two witches dear, as does this.”  She glances back at Angela for a moment before returning her gaze to you.  “Truth be told, you were meant to be in opposite places.”

The shock on your face was clear, making Morgan’s grin return.  “Imagine my surprise when not one, but two little pure bloods came along, only months apart, from a father that was convinced that he knew what he was doing was right.  I could see the prophecy being fulfilled right before my eyes and I hadn’t even had to do anything yet.”

There was a violent spark through the air and Morgan looks over at Crowley, who was furious, his hands shaking, blood dripping from them where he’d tried to break through.  “Oh hush now, don’t you want to know what all this about?  I’m sure you must be curious, bound to her and all, that was certainly something I never saw coming.”

Her gaze returns to you. “You are the first pure blood in a very long time to have a gift, I hope you know that.  When I learnt that you could see supernatural beings in their true forms, see peoples aura’s, I was overjoyed.  You had been what I was waiting for.  You were the one that Lucifer was meant to be bound to.”

An odd silence fell for a moment, making her grin widen.

“Oh yes, and he’d found you too, managed to gather enough strength to break out just a bit to see you.” Morgan shakes her head.  “Your mother of course didn’t believe you about the man in the church with the large white wings, thought that you were talking childish nonsense and kept you away, apologising.”  She gives a sigh of frustration.  “All you had to do was touch just one feather, just one, and this all would have been a lot simpler.”

“Lucifer’s been trapped in the cage for centuries.” Sam snarled from across the room, having quickly pulled his gag away and then returned his hands behind his back. “It’s not possible that that’s who she saw.”

“Isn’t it?”  Morgan asked.  “You have witnessed the power of archangels; surely you don’t doubt that they are exceptionally powerful?  Lucifer only needed a moment with her, a moment that her dear sweet mother wouldn’t have known appeared if it-”

Morgan was thrown backwards with a cry, fury beating at you as you growled.  “You don’t get to speak of my mother.” You struggled to your feet, fighting off the wave of nausea and light-headedness.  “And you certainly don’t get to act as if you are better than her.”

Brushing herself down as she got back to her feet, Morgan’s expression was smug.  “Your mother was lucky to have your father at all, Lia came so close to making it so, but of course, you got in the way of that.”  She shakes her head.  “But it matters not, it was because of your mother that you rejected Lucifer-”

“Good!”  Your voice rose, despite the tremble in your body, the churning of your stomach, and now the throbbing headache as the memory tried to break through.  “I’m glad my mother saved me the hassle of doing it now!”

The air rushed out of you and, instinctively, your hands flew to your throat as you started to choke, but it wasn’t Morgan that was casting the spell.

Angela’s eyes shone with a faint purple light.  “You don’t get to speak of him like that!  Not when you have forfeited the right!”

You struggled against her magic, fighting with everything you had.  She was powerful, of that you had no doubt, but you also knew that she was somewhat untrained, you could see it in the difference between the way the two of them worked, clearly Lia or Morgan had been holding her back.

“Angela dear, enough.” Morgan said as the lights above begin to flicker.  “We don’t want to kill her yet.”

The pressure vanished and you struggled to stay up, coughing and forcing air back into your lungs.

“She doesn’t even deserve this,” Angela hissed.  “We would be better off-”

“She is the only way we can free Lucifer.”  Morgan said sternly.  “I have waited enough years, I will not wait any more.”  Her gaze moves back to you.  “I had never been so insulted when you turned up that day having been connected to a demon, never seen such arrogance in a child thinking that you could just do whatever it was you wanted.  I had hoped that Lia removing your memories would cause fewer issues down the line when we got to this point, however, I think I’m almost glad that it’s ended this way, certainly makes me feel more satisfied.”

There is another shower of sparks and Morgan faces Crowley again, Crowley hitting whatever field was around him again.

“Shall I deal with the demon mother?”  Ryder asked.

Morgan shakes her head. “No dear, once Y/N here is gone, he won’t be of any threat.”

“Don’t bloody bet on it.” Crowley growled, even though none of them could hear him, looking at you, only to find you quickly looking around the room, despite the pained and exhausted set in your shoulders, despite the amount of blood you were still losing, you were alert and clearly trying to find something.

“You can get her tied down though.” Morgan nods back to you, drawing your attention.  “And do make sure that she can’t move, I’d hate to think of her spoiling our plans again.”

A chair was dragged forward and you willingly sat, mostly so you didn’t have the threat of being stabbed again, the knife clear on Ryder’s belt.

“It’s pretty sad that you’ve got to control him with a spell.”  You said loudly as he tied you to the chair.

“The boy is nothing special,” Morgan set.  “He carries the pure blood genes but that’s about it.  He will only be useful if we need to make more.”

You screwed your face up. “That’s…awful.”  Then you thought for a moment.  “Hang on a sec, if sweetpea there is going to Lucifer’s darling bride, and you are putting Lucifer in my father’s body…” You made a disgusted noise.  “Do you even realise how wrong that is?”

They both ignored you, Ryder standing diligently to your side.

“Wow, you two are more messed up than I thought.”  You muttered, your gaze once again returning to the room.

“Says the one whose own father wanted to try and claim them?” Morgan said lightly, helping Angela with several ingredients on a bowl next to Y/F/N.

“Well, if it had ever gotten that far, it’s not like it would’ve been-” You froze, staring at her. “It was a spell.”

“He never did try and stop keeping you safe,” She said.  “Unfortunately for him this time, he got me instead of Lia, so I had to make sure I kept things interesting.” She looks back over at Sam and Dean, Dean fighting hard against his ropes.  “It is interesting though that it affected one brother and not the other, I guess that had something to do with the fact that, as you said, one is Lucifer’s true vessel.”

“What was your goal? To make my life more miserable?” You asked.

“Yes,” She said flatly. “I wanted you to suffer as much as I could make you suffer without revealing our plan to you.”  She smirks.  “Isn’t it interesting though, if things went to plan, you’d be with the tall one.”

“Mother, it’s ready.” Angela said, effectively stopping whatever response you had.

A slight hint of panic overtook you, making your head swim for a moment, your head hanging as you fought to breathe deeply.

You had to convince yourself that you could do this, you’d been practising against the bunkers wards, had been able to focus enough that you could sense where everyone was, this was going to be no different, despite the wound and exhaustion.

If you could find what you were looking for, then this would be over quickly.

Sam was debating with himself whether to move or not, watching what was happening as the two witches started to chant, he could still see Dean struggling against his ropes, but right now, it was the least of his worries.

Their backs were turned, as was Ryder’s, so he figured that he had a chance.

Slowly, Sam moved himself, letting the ropes fall as he rolled onto his stomach, the knife still in hand, Dean caught his eye and tried to signal for him to come over, something Sam started to do before another bit of movement caught his eye.

The gun was shifting slightly.

Sam stared at it and sure enough, it started to move towards him slowly.  He wasn’t sure how you were doing this, but he wasn’t going to argue, keeping low and reaching out, taking the gun as it closed in distance between him.

He glanced up at Crowley, clearly caught between watching you, watching the witches and looking around for something.

Dean made a small noise and Sam quickly silences him, pressing a finger to his lips.  They all had to trust you and whatever it was that you were doing.

There was chanting, but you ignored it, sweat breaking out on your brow as you worked through the wards that were holding you, weakened after your earlier stunt.  You had managed to get the gun to Sam, now you just had to find what you were looking for.

You’d been searching for it before you come in, but outside, as you’d been warned, it was near impossible. You’d had enough control to sense a little when you sent the illusion in, but again, it wasn’t enough and didn’t last anywhere near as long as you would’ve liked.  Now here, tied to a chair, this was the last opportunity to manage it, to gain the control of the situation.

Your head hurt, mostly from your powers still raging through at inopportune times, but also from the fact that the air was growing heavy.

You managed to focus a little, to let yourself explore the room and just as you felt something tug at you, words were said and a hand gripped in your head, snapping it back as you growled.

“Keep her like that Ryder, I want her to know what’s happening after all.”  Morgan said smugly and then nods at Y/F/N.  “Wake him up.  Time for him to play his role.”

You watched as your father was woken up with a heavy groan, not sure how you felt about all this. His eyes were hazed over for a moment before he blinks and focuses on you.

“Y/N?”

You grimace.  “Dad.”

He shifts and looks around at Morgan and Angela.  “Lia…Angela…what are you doing?”

“Aww, isn’t that just sweet, even after all this he still cares.” Morgan said.  “Get the mark on him, I want to get this out of the way.”

“Mark…what…what is happening?”

“We’re being sacrificed to resurrect Satan.”  You said and snarled as your head was tugged back further.  “Remind me later to question your parenting methods, not to mention who you chose to cheat on Mum with.”

Y/F/N looked at Angela as she tore open his shirt and began painting on his chest.  “Angela, honey, what are you doing?”

“She just told you.” She said coldly.  “So if you aren’t going to listen to her, then why would you even listen to me?”

He blinks and you knew he was still a little foggy from whatever spell he’d been under.  “But why?”

“Because she denied her birth right, so I get the honour of taking her place.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jealous much?”

“You don’t get to speak!” She spat.  “He always cared about you more!  You were always the favourite!”

You chuckled.  “As I said, jealous much?”

She snarls and turns furiously to Morgan, even as Y/F/N watched with wide eyes.  “What next?”

Morgan smiles.  “Now we can begin dear, as long as you are ready?”

“More than ready.” Angela said, collecting the knife from Ryder and standing before you.  “I have been waiting to do this for years.”

“Considering I haven’t even known you, I don’t think that that is really fair.”  You watch her come in with the knife, the blade pressing sharply into your cheek, breaking the skin and letting a small drop of blood trickle down your cheek.

Her eyes burned with a slight madness, the purple in them flaring up again.  “That doesn’t matter anymore.  This all ends now.”

“Just make sure your timing is right Angela.  I’d hate for it to be messed up because you got too eager.”  Morgan said and picked up another blade and bowl, facing Y/F/N.

Angela stepped back a little, scowling, but still at the ready.  The lights throughout the room flickered, causing Morgan to smile.  “Ah, the angel has finally made his way back. Too bad it’s too late.”

You knew that it was going to be now or never as Morgan began to chant, the air instantly becoming oppressively heavy.  You could sense Sam was free behind you, waiting for whatever you had planned. You could feel Crowley’s gaze on you, furious and terrified.  The sharp sting of Ryder’s grip in your hair.  The throbbing pain from the wound in your back.  The headache that was still beating down on you.

You had to zone it all out.

Closing your eyes, you follow where you had felt the twinge earlier.

Crowley watched your hands grip the chair tight, the knuckles turning white, a frown creasing your forehead, he knew what you were looking for, knew that it would put an end to this madness.

Licking his lips, Crowley eyed the trap.  If he could break it just enough, then he could help.  He stared at the blood on his hands for a moment before it clicking, kneeling and starting to draw a symbol on the floor.

You felt a slight surge of power through you, almost letting it throw you off until you recognised the familiarity of the touch.  Somehow, Crowley was helping.

It was enough though, enough that you found the mask buried in the far back of the room in a well-protected chest.

“Get out of the circle Ryder.”

Your hair was let go and you knew you were out of time.

With a furious growl, you called up everything you had, every single bit of pain, hate, anger, anything and everything you could use.

Just as Angela stepped forward, the knife raised, your eyes bled red and the chair disintegrated beneath you and you stood, taking her by the throat, her eyes going wide, a scream cut of in her throat.

There was light pouring from the circle around Y/F/N, who was struggling, clearly in a lot of pain. At the sound from Angela, Morgan turned, purple eyes flashing dangerously as she raised a hand to speak another spell.

The explosion in the back of the room stopped her and she turned, eyes going wide, just as the mask soured into view.

Sam was ready, firing without hesitation.

The shattering of several powerful spells at once rocked the house, light bursting everywhere, making everyone shield themselves as best they could.  Wall cracked and the ground trembled under the force of it all, the lights and windows bursting, scattering glass everywhere.  Symbols burst to life along the walls, each burning and sparking, smoke starting to fill the room.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds, but it seemed to take a long time for everything to settle.

Sam was first up, coughing as the dust and smoke started to settle and he hurried over to Dean, cutting him free.

“Holy shit,” Dean coughed. “What kind of magic was at work here?”

The burst open, Castiel coming in, looking around at everyone, a very curious Rowena behind him.

“Is everyone alright?” Castiel asked, going to Sam and Dean.

“Is anything about this alright?”  Crowley asked as he stood, brushing down his suit.  “Honestly, you idiots-” He froze, suddenly looking around for you.

You groaned from where you’d ended up on the floor, struggling up, almost nothing left as you fought to breath.  A glint caught your eye and you just made out the knife that Angela had been holding.

Your mind foggy, it was hard to understand why you found that so odd.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Crowley called and tried to step forward before cursing.  “Can someone get me out of this damned trap already?!”

You managed to get yourself in a seated position, head hanging as your vision went in and out of focus, the world spinning.

Angela…where was Angela?

“Angela don’t!”

The voice was your fathers, broken, exhausted, but still loud enough to get your attention.

Your breath left you and you looked at your chest, the glint of the knife now sticking into you, Angela’s hand holding the handle, triumph in her gaze.

“No!”

You couldn’t tell who shouted, maybe everyone?  You hardly even registered as she exploded in front of you, already feeling yourself falling backwards, an unusual sensation tugging at the back of your mind.

A familiar hold had you then, the voice you loved speaking to you, about what, you couldn’t tell. You were too far gone.

Managing the faintest of smiles, you let it all go.

An eerie silence fell across the room, Crowley holding your now lifeless form.  The shock was clear on everyone’s faces.  This was not how it was supposed to go.

Crowley looked at Castiel, his heartbreak clear.  “Bring her back.”

Castiel swallowed. “I can’t.”

“Bring her back!”

“I can’t, Crowley.” Castiel said.  “It’s…it’s not how it works for purebloods.  You know that.”

“She can’t, she can’t make that choice!  You have to…to…” Crowley trailed off and he held you to him tightly, his head hanging.

“It was never going to be your choice Crowley,” Castiel said quietly.  “I’m sorry.”

“So…she’s not exactly dead then?”  Rowena asked, holding her hands up at Crowley’s furious look.  “I’m just trying to point out the positive dear, I don’t know what you are worried about.”

“It’d be better if you kept your mouth shut.”  Castiel said to her coldly.  “How you are even involved in this, I don’t know.”

“Y/N asked me, and considering Morgan Le Fay was one of my rival’s back in those days, I was more than happy to assist.”  Rowena said sweetly, throwing in a smile, which quickly sunk at the dark looks. “Oh come, she’ll be back in no time!”

Sam let’s out a short breath of annoyance before moving, going over to Y/F/N, who was sitting with wide eyes, his shock clear, and cut him free.  “Are…are you alright?”

Y/F/N blinked and looked at him, his eyes shining.  “Y/N…”

Sam swallows and goes to answer, but is cut off by a growl, Crowley on his feet and glaring at Y/F/N with furious red eyes.

“Crowley, you can’t take it out on him.”  Sam said quickly, stepping between the two of them.

“Why not?”  Crowley snarled.  “If it wasn’t for that blundering idiot, then none of this would have happened!”

“You can’t put all this on me!”  Y/F/N yelled back.  “If it wasn’t for you, then she wouldn’t have been re-exposed to all this!”

“If you hadn’t taken her memory in the first place!  If you had taught her from the start!”

“I was protecting her!”

“You were making it easier for the witches!”

There was a groan, cutting them both off as they look over, Ryder struggling up, looking very confused.

Crowley went to take a step forward.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dean hurried over, helping the kid up and standing in front of him too.  “Crowley, you can’t just take it out on them.  They are victims in this too.”

Crowley was breathing hard, his hands shaking.  “I don’t care.  He hurt Y/N and as far as I’m concerned he was no less involved!”

Dean flinches a little, but stands his ground.  “I know man, but Y/N wouldn’t want this.  She said he was bewitched, he didn’t know what he was doing.  You can’t blame him for that.”

Y/F/N struggled to his feet and beckoned to Ryder.  “Come here son.”

Crowley growled, even as Ryder looked terrified at him, hurrying over to Y/F/N.  “So you are just going to let them get away with it?”

“The ones really responsible are dead Crowley,” Sam said.  “Morgan’s spirit broke when I shot the mask and you…well, you made short work of Angela.  We get it, we do, your angry, but we need to think this out reasonably.”

Crowley’s whole body was shaking now, fighting to try and contain himself, but without you there, without your familiar feeling, it all felt too much.

Castiel rested a careful hand on Crowley’s shoulder.  “You need to worry about her Crowley, we don’t know what…condition she’ll come back in.”

It seemed to be enough, Crowley’s eyes going slowly back to normal as he shrugs Castiel’s hand off and moves back to you, flinching at the knife still in your chest.  Sitting with you and pulling you into his arms, he carefully pulled it free, blinking furiously to stop tears falling, something he made sure to hide from the others.

Sam lets out a long breath, running his fingers back through his hair.  “O-okay.  Right.” Dean glances at him and Sam shrugs. “I don’t know man, I don’t know what to do after that.”

“You might want to check the other witch.”  Rowena said, nodding into the corner of the room.  “If I’m not mistaken, she’s still alive.”

Sam and Dean look over to Lia and see that she is still breathing, hurrying over to help her up.

Crowley growled from where he was.  “I suppose you are just going to let her get away with it too.”

“Lia’s a white witch.” Y/F/N snarled, struggling to his feet.

“Yeah, and I’m an angel.” Crowley said coldly.  “She was stupid enough to let a cursed artefact into her home and get possessed by it, not to mention whatever you got her to do to Y/N, that certainly wasn’t-”

“I was protecting her!”

“No, you were fuelling your own ego thinking you could live a double life!”

“Like you would even-”

“Enough!” Dean shouts. “Come on!”

Castiel joins Sam and Dean, resting a hand against Lia’s forehead, making her groan and slowly blink her eyes.

“Easy does it,” Sam said, helping her sit.  “You’ve been through a lot, you need to take it slow.”

Lia looks around the room slowly, taking in everyone and then taking in the condition of her home. “What…what happened?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Your daughter went insane and resurrected an ancient witch into your body.  Both of them then tried to free Lucifer by killing your boy toy and his better daughter.”  Crowley said flatly.

Dean sighed.  “What he said.”

Lia blinks at them. “What?”

Y/F/N manages to move, coming over to her.  “Lia…there’s…there’s a lot to explain.”

Crowley zoned them out, he didn’t want to hear any of it, as far as he was concerned, all he wanted to do was string them up and torture to them, it was little more than what they deserved.

He focused on you, motionless in his arms, still no sign of anything.

Doubt, fear and worry gnawed at him.  Would you be different because of your demon powers?  Would you get the option to come back at all?

He shook his head, he couldn’t think like that.  It would kill him if you couldn’t.

But he still couldn’t sense you.

Crowley brushed your hair back, noticing the shake in his hand, he sighed, clenching his hand and closing his eyes, for the first time in his life, praying that a miracle would happen.

“Wait, he’s what!”

Y/F/N cut through Crowley’s thoughts and he scowls at him, eyes dark.

“They’ve been bound for a while now, there’s nothing you can do about it.” Dean said.  “So I wouldn’t even begin to-”

“And you had the nerve to blame me!”  Y/F/N yelled at Crowley, stepping forward.  “You had the hide to take this out on me!  When I’ve just lost half of my family!”

Crowley’s eyes narrow. “And how exactly does me being bound to Y/N have anything to do with that?  Did you not notice her power helped put a stop to all this?  If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing pony to Lucifer!”

“If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have-”

“Y/F/N, stop.” Lia said softly, touching his arm, making him look at her.  “The decision was put out of your hands long ago, and besides,” She looks at Crowley, understanding.  “He loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way.”

Crowley huffs. “You’re lucky I don’t just kill you both.  I’ve seen and heard what you’ve done to her, and I can promise neither of you are going to like where you go.”

Lia gives a small nod. “I can understand that, but you need to understand, that back then, I…I simply wanted Y/F/N for myself.  I did what I did to remove other distractions from the picture, meaning that I and my family could have more time with him.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.”  Crowley growled.  “Witches are all the same.  They all do anything to get what they want.”

Rowena rolls her eyes. “Please Ferus, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Mother, shut up.”

“Rude.”

There was a heavy groan from within the house and they all looked around the walls.

“I think we may have to get out of here fairly soon.” Sam said.  “I don’t think the structure liked being blasted with magic like that.”

There was a loud snap from somewhere upstairs followed by things falling.

“Yeah, I’ll second that.” Dean said and then looked at Crowley.  “Are you…right with her?”

Crowley snorts and goes to answer back, but was beaten to it.

“You ask really stupid questions at times Dean.”

Everyone froze and then looked at you, smirking, eyes half open, from where Crowley was holding you.

Relief flooded Crowley as the connection between then two of you seemed to snap back in place, stronger than what it was before.

“Y/N?”  He croaked.

Your smile widened as you managed to focus on Crowley.  “Hey sunshine.  Miss me?”

He broke into such a grin that it had you chuckled a little, leaning into him tiredly, your body and mind exhausted, something he quickly felt, his smile fading a little as he carefully helped you up.

Castiel was the first of the others to break the silence.  “Y/N, you...you are human still?”

You nod slowly, Crowley’s arm around you to keep you standing.  “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How?”  Dean asked.  “I thought that it was part of lore.”

Your hesitation was only momentary, enough that none of them noticed.  “Guess I really am one of a kind.”

Sam smiled.  “Glad you weren’t out of it too long Y/N, I don’t think we could’ve held Crowley off to much longer.”

You chuckled, even as Crowley shot Sam a glare.  “Well, I still feel like shit, so I guess it was only a job half done, right?”

“I think I still owe them.” Crowley growled on the low to you.  “Just say the word love.”

You leaned against him. “Maybe later, for now I’m too tired to deal with it.”

“Y/N…” Your father’s voice was unsure, staring at you with wide eyes.

You close your eyes, not moving from Crowley.  “Later. For now, I think it best we get somewhere safe, especially before any police offers turn up.”

“But-”

“And no, I don’t know what happened to Angela.” You glanced at Y/F/N and Lia, who both tensed.  “And nor do I care, she did just kill me after all, and I can promise that that isn’t a pleasant experience.”

“Here, here.”  Sam and Dean agreed quietly.

There was another loud crack from within the walls, before there was snap, and they all reappeared in a car park next to the Impala.

“How-”

“”I trust you can all find your own way back.”  Crowley said quickly, holding you firmly.  “And I trust that none of you will bloody even try and contact us any time soon.”

They all stared at him, but Crowley no longer cared, with another snap, the two of you vanished.

Crowley’s lips were on yours before you even had a chance to register where the two of you were, everything being poured into the kiss as he pressed you against a wall, holding you as close as possible.

You didn’t resist, giving into him instantly, knowing that he needed it, at least for a moment.

He broke away, resting his forehead against yours, his voice broken.  “Don’t you dare do that again.”

You hold him just as tight. “I didn’t even want to do it once, so I’ll think I’ll definitely pass on the second.”

Crowley groans and buries against you neck and it was only after a moment that you realised that he was crying.

“I thought I lost you.” He said.  “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“Of course I was,” You said, your fingers trailing into his hair, your own tears starting as the reality of everything seemed to finally settle over you and what you had just been through.  “I’ve already promised that I won’t leave you, no matter what.  No one is ever going to stop that from happening.”

He moved and kissed you again, gentler this time, assuring himself that you were there, that you were real.  “I never thought I’d get close though, especially not like that.”

You brushed his tears away, returning several kisses of your own.  “I’m okay Crowley, I promise.”

Crowley sighed and nuzzled his nose against yours.  “You are exhausted; I don’t think that’s okay.”

You give a small smile. “It’s better than some of the alternatives.”

He gives you a small smile and next thing you know, you were being pulled up against him in bed, the blankets wrapped securely around you, making you smile and quickly bury against him, hardly fighting the tiredness settling over you.

“We can talk about everything tomorrow love,” He said softly into your hair.  “For now, I want you to sleep, because I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

You hum, chasing away the thoughts of everything else and focusing solely on his presence.  “Thank you Crowley.”

“I love you Y/N, no one and nothing is ever going to change that.”

“I love you too Crowley. I’m glad it was you.”

Crowley didn’t need it explained what you meant by that, quickly slipping into a deep sleep, even as he traced patterns along your skin, comforting himself with your presence. He knew that there would be more to come, more to deal with, but for now, this moment here, it was enough.

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[jesbakescookies]

Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Eleven

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!

    ***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***

Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature

“I wanna bring you with me to a get together at Norman’s place.” Jeffrey’s voice came through her phone, the man driving to the airport. “When we get back from Florida he’s throwing a pre filming barbecue. Nothing fancy, just cast and crew, their families.” Aria bit her lip and stirred a pot of bordeaux sauce. “When is it?” “It’ll be next weekend. Saturday.” “Fuck.” She muttered, “I can’t. That’s the night of the wedding rehearsal dinner. They booked the whole place for the night. I can’t miss it.” “Damn.” He replied, a horn honking in the background. “No worries doll. There’ll be more get togethers. I just wanted to show off my beautiful girl.” Smirking, Aria teased,  “Jeez and here I thought you enjoyed my company but I’m just arm candy.“ His laugh rumbled through the phone and he drawled, "Babydoll, I more than enjoy your company. I just want everybody to see what a great fucking girl I got.”

Laughing, she then sighed, “I’m sorry. I really wanna go.” “It’s okay sweetheart. Another time.” He rasped, the sound of him cursing at another driver broke the silence. “Pick a fucking lane asshole!” Giggling, Aria instructed, “Off the phone, concentrate of not dying.” “Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, before confessing. “I’m gonna miss you baby girl.” Heat flooded her body when he spoke to her that way, his rough drawl rolling words across his lips like gravel. Squeezing her thighs together, Aria breathed, “I already miss you, Mr. Morgan.” Humming deeply, Jeffrey promised hoarsely, “I’ll be home soon, sweetpea and when I am, Daddy’s gonna make it up to you.” “Fuck.” She gasped, her throat hitching at the words and his deep voice. Chuckling, he joked, “Yeah, I suppose we can fuck but I was thinking of something slower, maybe even romantic-like.” “Bear skin rug and Barry White?” “Oh please, it’s Al Green all the way.” Snorting, she forced him to hang up. “Travel safe. Text me when you arrive, okay?” “Alright. I’ll talk to you soon. I.. uhhh.” He trailed off, roughly clearing his throat before continuing. “I can’t wait to see you again baby. I’ll talk to you tonight.” “Looking forward to it. Bye Jeff.” “Bye sweetpea.”

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Jeffrey confessed to Norman as they sat on the jet heading to a Walking Dead event in Florida. The rest of the cast were spread out across the plane, some sleeping through the trip while others were tapping away on their devices. Norman took a sip from his Starbucks cup and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what you’re doing with what?” “With Aria.” Jeffrey muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked around for eavesdroppers. Yeah, he was paranoid and he wasn’t very happy about it. “Yeah, what about her? You said things were going good.” “They fucking are… too good. I mean….” he trailed of, shaking his head while smiling wryly as he pictured her cooking in her underwear the morning before, her little toes bouncing her around as she worked. “Don’t get me wrong, they are going really fucking good. She’s amazing. I can see this going somewhere awesome. But..” “But…” “It’s going fast man, like earlier…” glancing over his shoulder at Andrew before muttering quietly, “I almost fucking said those three fucking words to her.” Norman’s eyebrows shot up and he slowly grinned. “Well fuck me sideways. You’re in-” “Don’t fucking say.. it.” “Fine but I mean you’ve only been seeing her a few weeks right?” “About a month but yeah.” “She must be a good fuck.” “Don’t talk about her like that man, it’s fucking more than that.” Jeffrey grumbled feeling protective of his girl. “I mean don’t get me wrong, that…. that is fucking insanely good. It’s just way fucking more than just fucking.” Norman grinned, pushing his sunglasses up to hold a head of messy hair. “Brother, I’m happy for you.” Rolling his eyes, Jeffrey scrubbed his jaw roughly and replied, “it’s freaking me the fuck out how much I like this girl.” “Don’t freak the fuck out man. Go with it. Let it happen. She doesn’t seem the type to chase after famous dick and she obviously likes you just as much. What’s wrong with feeling what you’re feeling?” “One it’s really fucking fast considering we’ve spent a lot of our time apart and two you know my history of sticking with girls. I don’t wanna fuck things up.” “Yeah, well change the fucking pattern, man. You don’t have to be a manwhore.” Norman spoke with a raised eyebrow and a curled lip. “Like you should fucking talk.” Jeffrey huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Dude, we aren’t talking about my dick, were talking about yours.” “Why are we talking about Jeff’s dick?” Andrew asked from over the seats, his grin flashing widely. “I mean not that we all don���t loooove your dick, Jeff.” “Never fucking mind.” Jeffrey growled, his eyes flashing to Norman who grinned mischievously. “Jeff’s head over heels for his girl and he can’t handle it.” Norman explained while Jeffrey repeatedly punched him in the shoulder. “Asshole.” “Aww.” Andrew cooed, his eyes lively. “You in love brother?” “Fuck off both of you.” The men broke into peals of laughter, smacking Jeffrey on the shoulder and back. “Come on man, don’t be mad. I had to tell Andy.” “No you didn’t and I’m not in… love.. with her.” He finished with a low whispered. “Whatever, man.” Norman sighed after another round of gruff laughter. “Just go with it. Fuck, she sounds like a great girl. She digs you and puts up with your lifestyle. What fucking more do you want?” “I don’t want anything more I just… want to not feel….” “Out of control?” Andrew offered, a smirk curling his lips. “When I met my wife I thought I was going fucking insane. She was all I could think about and I wanted to run the opposite direction. Anyone who can snap their fingers and make you drop to your knees is scary as fuck. You should know this Negan.” Rolling his eyes at the man’s comment he muttered, “She’s got me by the balls man.“ "As it should be!” Melissa quipped from across the aisle, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Jeffrey huffed, glaring at the rest of the cast who seemed to be listening in. “Fuck all of you.” A heavy round of laughter erupted as they all revealed themselves as eavesdroppers. “Assholes.” “Is she coming to the party?” “She wants to but it’s the same night as a wedding rehearsal dinner at her restaurant. She can’t miss it.” “Well next time. Maybe just a small dinner or something.” “Yeah.” Jeffrey muttered, looking out the window at the approaching city. “Look man,” Norman started quietly for his ears only, waiting for Jeffrey to look back at him. “Go with it. If things are going as well as you say, she’s probably in the same boat as you. Let it happen. Enjoy it. It’ll be great.” “I guess.” “Trust me brother. You’ll be fine.”

Opening her laptop, Aria stretched out on her bed and waited for Jeffrey to call. Her day had been exhausting and she was close to falling asleep when the device chimed. Clicking ‘accept’ the screen popped open and she found Jeffrey in a similar position and just as tired. “Hey there, sweetpea.” He rasped, his voice hoarse from talking and most likely smoking all day. “Hey handsome.” She replied, smiling softly at him. She bit her lip as she took in his bare chest and the dark rimmed glasses, he was too damn good looking without even trying. Laughing gruffly, he smoothed his beard down and joked, “Probably look far from handsome right now darlin’. Been standin’ in the sun all day sweating my balls off.” Chuckling, she smirked at him. “You look pretty good to me.” “Well thank you, doll. You look pretty damn good too, that one of my shirts?” “Yeah. I’m wearing it because it smells like you.” “Damn baby, making me hard talking like that.” “Just the truth. I… I haven’t missed anyone in a long time, I haven’t had anyone to miss. I’m adjusting to it.” Jeffrey smiled at her, his dimples deepening as it turned into a grin. Aria rolled her eyes and muttered, “Don’t look so smug.” Laughing deeply, Jeffrey looked at her with hooded eyes. “I’m not used to missing anyone so much either, doll. And I fucking miss the hell out of you.” Blushing, Aria lay her head on her bent arm. “Well at least I’m not the only one.” She replied, smiling at him. “I feel bad I can’t make that party with you.” “Don’t darlin’. It’s no big deal. Besides there will be more. I ain’t lettin’ you go anytime soon.” “Oh yeah?” “Oh fuckin yeah.” Staring at each other for a long moment, Aria bit her lip and flirted, “You’re looking at me like a porterhouse.” Licking his lip before biting his tongue between his teeth, Jeffrey confessed, “I’ve been hard since we talked this mornin’. I’m ravenous now.” Sliding a hand between her legs, Aria squeezed the throb starting low in her stomach. 

“Whatcha doing there baby girl?” He asked, his words rough but soft. “Nothing.” She gasped, her fingers dipping under the scrap of fabric. “Fuck. Let me see you.” Jeffrey demanded, the laptop moving slightly as he adjusted his hard on. “Jesus sweetheart. You gotta show me.” Sliding the computer back, Aria let the camera pick up her hand buried between her legs. Jeffrey’s throaty groan had her eyes flickering open to see his own hand inside his boxers. Sucking on her bottom lip, Aria’s walls clenched at the sight of him stroking himself. “You’re fucking sexy baby.” He encouraged, “fuck take that shirt off. Let me see those titties.” Removing the white t-shirt, Aria watched as he threw his head back at the sight of her bare breasts. “God-fucking-damn, your perfect.” He growled, jutting his chin towards her panties. “Take those off too. Let me see that pretty little pussy.” “Jeff.” She whined, her fingers swirling over her hood. “Come on baby girl. Show me.” Bending her leg she opened her thighs to allow him to see her hand work. “Fucking hell.” He grunted, his own palm working harder. “Goddamn if that ain’t a pretty sight. You thinking about me? "Jeff, fuck yes. Tell me what to do.” “Shit.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “You… you are something else darlin’ fucking hell, keep doin’ that. Dip those fingers inside baby. Let me see how wet you are.” Aria arched her body off the bed as she slipped her finger inside, pumping it to show him how turned on she was. Jeffrey growled at the sight, the man leaning forward to see better. “Fuck, taste yourself. Suck those fingers, beautiful girl.” Moaning at his directions, Aria did as he told, twirling her tongue around her finger to tease him. She noticed his boxers were gone and his hand was working himself over without shyness. “Jesus. I wanna fuck that mouth.” He rasped, his words breathless and rough. “Just slid passed those pouty little lips.” “Yeah.” She gasped, her hand returning between her legs as she worked her fingers in and out with determination. “I wanna.” “Yeah? You wanna suck my cock doll?” “Yes.” She hissed as her hips twitched at his tone. “I want…” “What do you want sweetheart?” “I want you to fuck my mouth.” “Ooh goddamn doll. You have. No idea. how bad I want to.” He replied, his eyes hooded and mouth parted. “Cum for me baby girl. Show me how you make yourself cum.” Crooking her fingers, Aria brushed her thumb across her clit several times before cumming hard. “Jeff!” She gasped, her neck elongated as the tension she built up, snapped. Jeffrey growled at the sight, his hand pumping quickly as he watched her writhe. “Yeah that’s it. Fuck I’m gonna cum too, doll.” “Let me see.” She breath, blinking her eyes to clear the lust. Aria watched the way his forearm muscle tensed with every pump, his neck arching as his release rolled through him. A hissed breath escaped his clenched teeth and a deep groan from low in his belly had Aria biting her lip tightly. He was fucking gorgeous cumming all over his hand and stomach while watching her. His chest was heaving as he panted, his eyes heavy and dark. “Fucking hell. Wish that had been inside you.” Smiling, Aria curled up on her side and watched him clean up and pull his boxers back on. “Get some sleep doll. I can tell you’re exhausted.” “You too.” “I will.” He replied, his lips scowling slightly. “I still miss you.” “Me too baby.” She murmured, reaching for his tshirt and pulling it on. She pressed it into her nose and inhaled real slow. When her eyes peeled open she found Jeffrey biting his lip. “You’re adorable.” Aria blushed, her eyes rolling playfully to cover her embarrassment. “Shush.” “I’ll call you tomorrow alright sweetpea?” “Looking forward to it Mr. Morgan.” Humming he rasped, “I’ll like when you say that.” “I know.” She smiled, “that’s why I do it.”

Find Chapter Twelve here:

http://jesbakescookies.tumblr.com/post/162588335631/too-hot-to-handle-chapter-twelve

I started posting this fic over on AO3 also. I will probably post in both places since I’m still figuring out AO3 formatting etc.

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[rachelclewis]

Brunch at Tiffany’s

I worked at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts when I was in college back in the 90s. I was on a work study program, and I actually started in the work shop, in the basement.

This may sound like a mismatch, and it was, but not for the obvious reasons. I took shop in Jr. High school and, all things considered, I did pretty well. The class was one year long but divided into three sections: wood shop, technology, and metal shop. My wood shop teacher loved me. He gave me 150% on one assignment because I carved a 3D design when everyone else had done a 2D cutout. I rarely saw the tech teacher but his student teacher told me flat out (and in front of the entire class) not to come to him with any questions because he had no intention of helping me. “I know you are only here to meet boys.”

I was thirteen and I would not have known what to do with a boy if I managed to get one's positive attention. And anyway, I spent each day of class just trying to stay out of the path of those trolls. I don’t know if there were particularly nasty personalities in that group or if it was the result of getting too many thirteen year old boys in one room with power tools, but those boys were the worst! They were both mean and dangerous and they made every day torture. They were constantly trying to humiliate me into quitting, or at least crying. If I said anything in class – right or wrong – I was teased for it for the rest of the period. One day they would roll the spot welder into place behind me and set it off to burn my arms and singe my clothes with the flying sparks. The next, they would wait for me to walk into class and then they would strip the skinny nerdy kid of his pants and push him toward me. It was an exercise in tolerance, and I survived it, one day at a time. I hope that skinny nerdy kid did, too.

The metal shop instructor in the final section of class was helpful but stern. I never got a sense that he knew I was in any way different from the 29 other male students. Then one day I got called down to the office and learned he had nominated me for student of the month. Maybe he wanted to reward my fortitude? Or maybe he felt bad about putting the spot welder on wheeled castors to begin with. I'll never know.

Fast forward a few years, and I was looking for a work study job at the University of Utah. I saw a post at the art museum and thought it would be fun to work there. I think I listed two things on my job application: 1.) my year of shop training in 8th grade and 2.) the fact that I got the highest possible score on my AP art history exam. I got the job. I may have been the only person who applied.

My boss in the museum's shop was what we would now call a “hot mess,” though by the time I met him he was cold and lumpy. On my first day, he told me to "earthquake proof the Pre-Columbian exhibit." Then he went back into his office where he sat at his desk and stared at a corner in the ceiling while medium priced scotch directly from the bottle. We never spoke again.

I had no idea what to do or where to start. Maybe if this weren't the year 1995 it would have occurred to me to look up "how to earthquake proof old ceramics" on the internet, but it wasn't and I was screwed. I walked around the exhibit trying to get some ideas. I looked for ways to suspend the smaller objects from the ceiling so that if there were a quake they would swing around but never hit the ground. Or each other? But still be out of reach of thieves or handsy children? I decided it wouldn't work but I was feeling like I had made some progress by having a bad idea and eliminating it and that seemed positive. Then I noticed a large mask under filtered light. It had a strangely familiar texture. I leaned in and read the card next to the plexiglass box which read, “made of animal skin.” It was the generality that made it come together for me. Human. It was definitely human skin. I was convinced. I still am. If I had ever found a way to secure that collection I might have left that particular object to fend for itself.

I still had a work ethic back then and I couldn't just not work. Having no clue what I was supposed to do and a distinct fear of trying and failing, I was stuck. Then I noticed a shop-vac in the corner. It was one of those trash-can sized deals on wheels with a suction tube like an elephant’s trunk coming off the side. I named it R2 and it was my only co-worker for a while. I showed up to work three afternoons a week and I vacuumed every nook and crevice whether it needed it or not. And it didn't. Not at all. At the end of each shift I emptied R2 and then I went home. Until one day I showed up and was informed (not by my boss, but someone else) that I had been transferred to the gift shop. For a few seconds before the relief set in, I felt that I had let all of womankind down. I had a shop job, and I failed. Then I headed upstairs to the lobby and the sunlight and I left R2 behind without so much as a backward glance.

My new boss was a man named Brad who rarely came in to work, but when he did he was over dressed and wearing too much foundation. On the days that he didn't come in, I was told he suffered from migraines. I interpreted this as code for a penchant for late nights and hangovers, but I don't really know. I just know that I was again left alone, but this time with post cards, a cash register, and some clear expectations.

This was not the MET or MOMA. Sometimes I would go days without a customer. There was plenty of time to do homework, but in the summers I read entire Steven King novels while sitting behind the register. Once in a while I had a customer, and they would want to pay with a credit card. On those occasions I had to run through the museum and ask everyone in their offices to hang up their phones. “We made a sale! I need to use the phone line to run a charge!”

The 90s were an adorable time to be alive. I'm sorry if you missed them.

One day I was sitting at my station, writing in my journal or something, when the security guard stopped by to ask if I needed a bathroom break. Her name was Debbie and I just adored her. She was sweet and worldly and she had one deformed tiny hand, not unlike the Kristen Wiig “Dooneese” sketches on Saturday Night Live. At least, that is what it made me think of, many years later, when I saw them.  Debbie told me that when she was growing up, her mother always made her use her tiny had to clean out the garbage disposal and she was always frightened it might turn on spontaneously.

“Yes!” I shouted, hopping off my too tall stool. “Thank you!” But as I landed, the stool fell back and hit this weird waist high block thing that we used to push in front of the cash register area when no one was on duty in the gift shop. (It was very secure, obviously.) The block made a thunk and tipped on its side in the direction of the glass wall that was the only thing separating the gift shop area from the ten foot tall Tiffany crystal doors. I was told that they were a gift from Louis Comfort Tiffany to the LDS church in the late 1800s, but church leaders didn’t want them because they featured winged angels. Mormon angels don't have wings (because Joseph Smith saw some angels and he said they didn't have wings, and man who sees angels and talks to them in the woods and then reads secret books by putting his head in a hat and using magic stones to translate them into English is not weird. Angels with wings? That’s silly. Amazing what bunk some folks believe in. We don't want those. Give them to the university in case they ever get an art museum.).

I leapt between the falling block and the glass and stopped the impending crash with my body, the right angle edge of the block crushing into my full bladder. Luckily I was 19 and I didn't piss myself so that was the end of the drama.

“Woah,” I said. I looked back at the Tiffany angels, which are not the classic blue and green of the classic Tiffany lamp shades that you are probably picturing. They are long elegant slices of crystal with frosted angel designs carved into them. They could be the doors leading to Superman's Fortress of Solitude. For a moment I imagined them shattered and skittering in icy pieces across the floor. At the time, the museum's director was a diminutive octogenarian and man shaped ball of rage named Frank Sanguinetti. I had witnessed a few of his milder temper tantrums by then and I was imagining my new life as his forced butler or maid as I tried to work off the debt of the priceless art I had destroyed. I would have been buried in his garden beneath the irises within the week.

“Don't worry,” Debbie said, helping to unpin me with her little hand. “I always get clutzy on my period, too.”

That is when my head exploded. Yes, but how did she...? And was it true that...? Now that I think about it... Oh my goodness, yes! Why had no one told me before! This should be common knowledge! There should be a PSA or a warning label on forklifts, at the very least!

There have been a few occasions since that day nearly 20 years ago where I have watched a woman struggle with a task or gravity and, if I felt I knew her well enough, I repeated Debbie's phrase. “Don't worry, Sweetpea. I get like that when my red sea is parting, too.” (Side note, I just googled euphemisms for menstruation to find a funny one and was reminded that there aren’t any, so I just made that up. I did learn that in Japan they call it the “Arrival of Mathew Perry” which is the best thing I ever heard but I failed at finding a way to make it work here.) And each time I have witnessed a similar series of responses. Incredulousness, recognition, connection, amazement, horror, and finally amusement and laughter. Maybe not in that order exactly, but the moment usually ends with laughter. But there is always that moment of recognition. That moment of “Damn, she’s right! Why didn't I put that together myself? And why don't they mention that in those fifth grade maturation videos?”

I don't know the answer. It would have been nice. But as far as I can tell, it is still a well-kept secret.

I've been thinking about all of this the last few days, ever since I got the devastating alert on my phone that read the Cathedral of Notre Dame was on fire. It hurts to think about the loss of history and human accomplishment. The last I heard, they still didn't know how the fire began. It seems they have out-ruled arson, but I read that there was some reconstruction work going on somewhere in the cathedral. Which isn't a surprise. 800 year old buildings have a lot of maintenance required.

I just hope whatever stared the fire was some faulty piece of equipment being operated by some man. Women have suffered enough to build our cred with power tools. That is one disaster we simply do not need.

[inkykeiji]

Clari!! How are you?! Happy new year!

you seem to be really passionate about organization and I remember you talking about how much effort you put into school so I was wondering if you have any advice for note taking + stuff any advice is welcome 💗💗🫡 (my degree is similar to what you did in the sense that I also have to write and read a lot but not analyzing movies instead it’s policy 😅😅😅😅)

Also bc I have to finish a book for my midterm next week and I just really struggle making notes that are to the point bc I always want to add as much detail as possible when that’s just not? Helpful when reviewing yknow?

hi anon!! <3 i’m okay, a lil sleepy hehehe, i hope you’re doing well!! happy new year to you too bb! (ﾉ>▽<)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

ah yes! my academic work was and still is (and always will be) extremely important to me. oh sweetpea i wish i had some advice to offer but unfortunately i’m exactly the same way you are! :( my notes are way too detailed and i always include a surplus of information because my mind is constantly like ‘well this could be important, too, so i should memorize this as well!’. it’s this anxiety thing; i’m terrified i’m going to miss an important piece of information so i just end up writing ALL of it down.

what i used to do while taking notes and making notes for exams + papers is: i’d write down every single thing i thought to potentially be important, just to quell that anxiety that i might potentially miss something crucial. once that was done, i’d go through the notes i had made with a different coloured pen (or several different coloured pens) and underline and mark up the bits that i deemed to be especially important; essential, basically.

this method isn’t very time efficient, but it’s the only thing that worked for me personally. i’m sorry i can’t offer better advice :(( just know that i completely understand where you’re coming from and i’m in the same boat! i’m willing to bet that google has some fantastic tips on studying efficiently and maybe even some tips on how to discern which information is important vs which is not, so maybe you can give that a try and see if you find any tips and advice that might work for you! everyone is different, and we all process information in different ways as well as have unique processes when it comes to writing papers and studying, so please don’t get discouraged if you attempt a method and it doesn’t work well for you! keep trying and i promise you’ll find your groove <3