#it depends on the level of angst you want i guess

[beijodefrade]

post-portal body swap with the stan twins would be so funny I think Stan would rejoice at having real teeth while Ford would have a nervous breakdown

[rubyvhs]

you could be bad ch1 | dean winchester

SUMMARY. a wrong number has you winded for an entire month NOTES. okay guys, here’s my little baby, so excited for this. covers my ‘mistaken identity’ square for @jacklesversebingo TAGS. 1.5k words, angst, death. Series masterlist

june 

unkown: hey, i’m waiting outside.

you: great let me just get dressed

and ask what the fuck you’re doing outside my apartment

unknown: jo?

you: nop.

unknown: shit i got the wrong number.

sorry, total accident.

i am definitely not outside your apartment.

you: i would sure hope so.

and i also hope you find your jo friend’s number since you seem to be really great at keeping track of them!!

unknown: haha, very funny.

i guess this is an old burner phone or something, i don’t know how i messed that up.

you: okay well

keep me posted on your date anyway.

unknown: how’d you know it was a date? 

and why would you wanna talk to me again? this is breaking every rule for cybersecurity ever created.

you: i like living on the edge

also you kinda just give off those vibes 

unknown: i give off ‘date’ vibes?

you: yep. go get ‘em, tiger!

unknown: sammy, whrs my car

i swr to god if you don’t get me baby m gonna kill u

you: hi again

i am, in fact, not sammy. nor jo. 

you: did you die?

unknown: i should’ve guessed

sorry again, texting while driving isn’t a good idea

you: yeah it isn’t. you almost gave me a heart attack.

unknown: you don’t even know me.

you: i still don’t want you dead

unknown: how would you know? what if i was a really bad person?

you: … are you?

unknown: idk. i guess it depends on what you consider bad.

you: murder. i consider murder bad. 

unknown: then nah, haven’t reached that level.

you: then you’re an okay person, everything else can be looked past. 

so as i was saying, don’t fucking die.

also, how was your date?

unknown: so great that i was texting my brother on the way home hours early

you: sammy’s your brother?

unknown: sam but yes.

you: what happened?

unknown: there was an emergency with her mum so i drove her back to the bar. her mother wasn’t too happy to find out i’m the guy she was out with.

you: oh, that sucks. does that mean you’re not that good of a person? 

no offense lol

unknown: none taken, kinda true. i don’t think i’m tradition ‘take home to the family’ guy.

you: you’re a guy??

unknown: are you not a woman?

you: yeah, i am. wow, we’re learning so much about each other. next tell me what color shoes you’re wearing.

unknown: you’re funny

you: i can do stand up comedy if i try, obviously i don’t try though.

unknown: ah, of course, why would you.

wait, sammy responded.

you: go get ’baby’! 

cat? mother? sister? best friend? (i hope it isn’t a girlfriend) 

unknown: car.

and i’m on my way there.

dean, by the way.

you: dean?

unknown: my name. 

what’s yours?

you: i think a quick look at truecaller can do the trick. night, dean!

dean: gt door

you: now it’s just ridiculous.

it’s been three days since you last spoke to me and the first thing you ask is for me to get the door. i never took you for the rude type.

dean: sorry, just woke up.

you: ehh, don’t have to be. i’m actually super awake anyway.

why are you asleep? it’s nine.

dean: stayed up late last night.

going back to sleep.

you: night, dean!

dean: night.

dean: [1 attachment]

[ image description : a tanned hand holding onto a half eaten pack of cayenne beef jerky, with his shoes in the background. It looks like he’s in his car. on the top right corner of the picture there’s some handwritten text, very hard to read but roughly says ‘dnt frgt, bitch’. ]

you: be honest.

do you just not check your contact ever? 

go eenie meenie miney mo and press send? i won’t be mad, i just want the truth.

dean: shit shit shit.

i have no idea how this keeps happening.

you: it’s okay, i don’t mind.

dean: you don’t?

you: i’m actually very very bored right now so yes, i don’t mind. work is kicking my ass so thanks for the distraction.

dean: work?

you: yep! i sadly have rent. pa at my old uni.

dean: that’s fun

how old are you?

you: how old are YOU?

dean: yeah you might need to answer first.

you: no way

dean: fine, whatever. 36.

you: hi grandpa.

i’m twenty six.

dean: you’re only ten years younger.

you: and yet i’m wiser.

dean: now that’s just not true.

you: and how would you know? i’m very wise, ask any of my friends.

dean: and how many friends do you have?

you: so many.

like a whole 2.

dean: wow. impressive.

you: okay mr. stranger. how many friends do you have then?

and i’m not talking like people you like to have around i’m talking FRIENDS.

dean: two.

but i’m older, circle of friends thins with age, you’re still young.

you: honestly not that much younger, but yeah, i don’t know. mostly still have my sister though so that’s what’s matters. 

dean: yeah, i get that. 

you: you’re close with your brother?

dean: yes, we work together.

you: really? that’s so cool! my sister’s like four years younger than me so as much as i would kill to work with her, we’re not at the same level.

dean: sam’s four years younger than me too. but there isn’t much of a difference between us. at a certain age it’s all just the same.

you: i totally get what you’re saying.

okay, dean i need to go because said sister is screaming at me, but!! if i ever see you texting me cause of a wrong number situation again i will get so angry, okay?

dean: yes ma’am.

you: whatever, stupid.

dean: hey, saw your number in bobby’s phone today. you’re a hunter?

you: a what?

dean: you don’t have to pretend, i’m a hunter too. i know why you didn’t tell me but i would’ve though you heard of me.

you: okay… why? are you popular? notorious? i’ve never heard of you before you texted me, dean.

and how do you even know bobby?

dean: how do you know him?

you: a friend of a friend. and bobby’s a mechanic, what the hell is he doing with a hunter.

dean: sorry, i think it got it wrong. he used to hunt with my dad and i do it professionally now. but i would’ve thought you heard about my dad, i meant. him and bobby used to be close.

you: who’s your dad?

dean: john winchester.

you: never heard of him. i’ve heard of dean winchester though. 

dean: really?

you: yes. i mean there’s like a thousand deans so i didn’t wanna assume but bobby used to talk about you and sam. he’s always doing something for the two of you. 

dean: we hunt lots of wild animals, we usually need his help.

you: right. because bobby’s the most flexible person on the planet.

dean: research wise. we need him research wise. 

you: okay. what were you doing there? and why’d you just assume i hunt too? i already told you i’m a pa.

dean: i don’t know, i just assumed. me and sammy went to pick up some stuff for another hunt we’re going on next week.

you: in a few days?

dean: yeah, on monday.

you: be careful please.

and have fun, i guess. mostly be careful.

dean: we will. tell bobby i say hi when you see him next time.

you: will do. and i’ll also ask for baby pictures. 

dean: ha ha

you: isn’t it the craziest coincidence that you texted me? what’s that about? what are the odds we end up having a mutual friend?

dean: I know a lot of people, it’s not that crazy to me.

night.

you: night, dean.

you: [1 attachment]

[ image description : a stray cat sitting on your lap, her head snuggled into your shirt, your hand stroking her fur, the new pink nail set obvious on your manicured hand. under the cat is your mini skirt with see through tights. ]

dean: new leggings?

you: you asshole

isn’t she so cute?

dean: someone’s cute alright

you: not funny

you lost pic privileges.

also you’re working? and texting? 

when will you ever learn, dean.

dean: how about never? 

besides, you worry too much, i’m more than okay. 

you: tell sam hi for me and to keep an eye out for you because you’re going to get yourself eaten

dean: eaten?

you: wild animals are no joke.

dean: oh yeah, that’s what i heard too.

thank god i have you to tell sammy to take care of me.

you: take care please.

dean: don’t doubt it.

dean: i think you’re asleep.

that would probably make a lot of sense cause it’s three in the morning

but i guess i needed to talk to you

you: me?

dean: hey why are you awake?

you: cause i have insomnia 

why are you awake?

dean: just got home

do you actually?

you: no, just drank too much redbull trying to finish correcting these stupid papers. tell me what you wanted to talk about.

dean: yeah but i thought you’d be asleep

you: would it be better if i shut my phone off and wait for you to finish before i read it?

dean: no it’s fine

but you’re sweet for offering, angel

you: thank you

or whatever

dean: yeah, so you wanna hear it or not?

you: yes please

dean: remember jo?

you: your girlfriend?

dean: we tried going on one date but her mum didn’t approve and honestly i think she only liked me because of the whole off limits thing. she’s a great girl but our dads had problems so maybe it translated to how she viewed me. i’m not sure, i just know she’s gone now.

you: so you guys were together? ever since you texted me thinking i’m her?

dean: yeah. not together together, but i went out with her. i tried giving her what she wants but her mother is so hell bent on making her hate me and i don’t wanna bridge a gap between them. she’s her mother.

you: right because mums are the most important people in the world.

dean: i loved my mum.

i still think about her everyday.

you: oh dean, i’m so sorry. 

dean: it’s fine. anyway, how was your day?

you: was okay. i’ll go to sleep. good night, dean. 

dean: oh, night.

dean: ha, sam says he saw you at bobby’s

for the love of my impala tell me that it isn’t true. my baby brother could not have seen you before i did.

you: yeah, i met him. he’s really nice. told me about your contractor job. seemed really interesting. also told me about how you talked about me, mentioned that my name came up when you were asking for help with your car. apparently i’m a mechanic now.

dean: fuck, angel.

i’m sorry.

you: no problem at all.

dean: look i can explain everything. i promise.

you: no thanks

join my taglist. @daylighted @starrylanex @losers-clvb

[finchyclarkemd]

Between Us- Part 2

~Angst/fluff~

The night air was cold. George barely felt it. His steps were slow, aimless, his mind still trapped in the last few minutes. Still hearing your voice.  

"I don’t love you."

"I never did."

He had expected pain. Expected rage. But all he felt was… empty. Because it wasn’t just that you had chosen Chris. It wasn’t just that you had looked him in the eyes and let him go. It was that you had never been his to begin with. And that truth? That was the part that broke him.

He barely registered the streets as he walked. Didn’t know where he was going—only that he had to keep moving. Because if he stopped, if he let himself think too much, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.  People passed him, laughing, talking, their lives untouched by what had just happened. By what he had just lost. Somehow, that made it worse. Because to them, nothing had changed. But to George? Everything had.  

When he finally got home, the silence hit him like a brick. No messages. No missed calls.  Not from you. Not from Chris. Nothing. Like he had already been erased. George let out a slow, bitter laugh, raking a hand through his hair as he sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall. He should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve known from the beginning that he was just setting himself up for this. Because deep down, he had always known that when it came down to it… Chris would always win. And George? George was just the guy who wasn’t enough. Not for you. Not for anyone. And for the first time in a long time, he had no fight left in him.  

George sat in the dark. Motionless. Silent. But inside? Inside, he was burning. The pain had settled deep in his bones, but beneath it—beneath the hollow ache, the emptiness—there was something else. Something sharper. Something darker. Because this wasn’t just heartbreak. This was betrayal. You had been his best friend. The one person he thought he could always count on. The one person he thought understood him. 

And Chris? Chris had always been a bastard, but this? This was a different level of fucking low. Taking you from him. Rubbing it in his face. And the worst part? You had let it happen. You had chosen him. Without hesitation. Without even looking back.

George clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening into fists. He had been too nice. Too patient. Too willing to believe that if he just waited long enough, you’d see what was right in front of you. But he wasn’t waiting anymore. Because if you weren’t going to come back to him on your own. Then maybe it was time he stopped playing fair.  

He picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. He hesitated for half a second. Then he pressed call. A few rings. Then, a voice on the other end.  

“Well, well,” the voice drawled. “Didn’t expect to hear from you.”  

George exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the phone.  

“I need a favour.”  

A pause. Then, a low chuckle.  

“Guess that depends. Who are we fucking over?”  

George’s lips curled into a cold, humourless smile.  

“Chris.”  

George leaned back against the couch, phone still pressed to his ear, heart steady. He wasn’t thinking about the past anymore. Wasn’t thinking about how you looked at Chris like he was the only one in the room. Or how you’d thrown George away like he was nothing. No. George was thinking about the future now. And he was going to make sure Chris paid for every second of it. 

The voice on the other end of the line hummed, considering. “Chris, huh?” A pause. “You really wanna go there?”  

George’s grip tightened. “I didn’t call you to ask if it was a good idea.”  

Another chuckle. “Fair enough.” A pause. Then—“Alright. Let’s talk.”  

Chris was untouchable in a lot of ways. People liked him. Trusted him. George hated that. Because beneath all that charm, all that smooth talking, was the same selfish bastard who always took what he wanted—no matter who he had to step over to get it. And this time, that person had been him.  

But George knew something Chris didn’t. Chris had weaknesses. And you were one of them. So if George was going to burn Chris down, he was going to start with you.

A week passed before he made his first move. It was subtle at first—just enough to make you question things. A message. One you weren’t supposed to see. One that showed up at just the right time, when Chris wasn’t looking.  

Chris: She doesn’t need to know everything.

No context. No explanation. Just enough to plant the seed of doubt. George knew you. He knew how your mind worked, how you overthought everything. And this? This would sit with you. Eat at you. And when the time was right? He’d make sure it all came crashing down. 

The next move was bigger. More dangerous. Chris had enemies—not a lot, but enough. People who were waiting for an excuse. And George? George had just given them one. A tip-off. A well-placed rumour.

And suddenly, Chris wasn’t just watching his back—he was bleeding trust from every angle. Because when doubt starts to spread, it doesn’t stop. And when people start questioning you?You lose everything. 

The last part? That would come when Chris was already on the edge—when he was stretched thin, trying to keep his life together. That’s when George would step in. That’s when he’d find you. That’s when he’d finally say the words you weren’t ready to hear.  

"Chris isn’t who you think he is."

And this time? You wouldn’t be able to ignore it. Because by then, everything around Chris would be falling apart. And when it did? George would be right there. Waiting. Watching. Ready to take back what was supposed to be his.

Chris knew something was wrong. It started small. Your mood had shifted—subtle, but noticeable. You hesitated when he kissed you. Paused before answering questions.  And then, the real sign. You checked his phone.  Chris caught it out of the corner of his eye—your fingers barely brushing the screen before pulling away like you’d touched something forbidden. 

That was when he knew. Someone had gotten to you. And Chris had a damn good guess who it was.  

Chris didn’t waste time. The second you left for work, he grabbed his keys, his phone, and went straight to the source of the problem. George. The knock on the door was sharp. Loud. Unforgiving.

When the door opened, George stood there, arms crossed, eyes too calm. Like he had been waiting for this. Chris’s lip curled.  

"You want to tell me why you’re feeding bullshit to my girl?"  

George smirked. "Bullshit? I thought she deserved the truth."  

Chris clenched his jaw. "You and I both know that’s not what this is about."  

George tilted his head, mock innocent. "Then what is it about?"  

Chris took a step closer, voice dropping.  

"It’s about you being a pathetic little bitch who can’t handle losing."  

For the first time, George’s expression cracked. Chris saw it—that flicker of real anger. Good. Because he wasn’t here to play nice.  

Chris leaned in, lowering his voice.  

"You wanna come at me? Fine. But don’t you dare drag her into this."  

George scoffed. "Or what?"  

Chris didn’t hesitate. He grabbed George by the collar, slamming him back against the doorframe. George barely had time to react before Chris’s grip tightened. 

"You think I don’t know what you’re doing?" Chris growled. "Trying to plant doubt? Trying to turn her against me?" His eyes darkened. "You really think she’ll ever pick you?"  

George’s jaw clenched.  

Chris smirked. "That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You can’t stand that she looked at me the way you wished she looked at you."  

George shoved him off. Chris let him go, watching as George seethed. 

"Stay the fuck out of our lives," Chris warned, stepping back. "Last chance."  

George straightened his shirt, eyes sharp. "Or what?"  

Chris gave him one last look.  

"You don’t want to find out."  

Then he turned, walking away, leaving George standing there, fists clenched, jaw tight. But Chris knew this wasn’t over. Because George wasn’t done. And if he wanted a war? Chris was more than ready to give him one.

George stood in the doorway long after Chris left, heart hammering, blood boiling. Chris thought he’d won. Thought a few threats, a little show of dominance, would make George back off. But Chris didn’t understand something crucial. George had already lost the thing that mattered most.

And a man with nothing to lose? Was a dangerous fucking thing. 

Chris wanted a war? Fine. George was about to burn everything down. The next day, George sent you a message.  

George: Can we talk? Just us?  

You hesitated. He could feel it through the screen. But after a long pause—  

You: …Okay. 

That was all he needed.  

He picked the place carefully—a quiet café, far from where you and Chris usually went. When you arrived, you looked unsure. Like you weren’t even sure why you’d agreed to this. But you still came. That meant there was still doubt. And that was all George needed.  

You sat down across from him, arms crossed. "What do you want?"  

George sighed, running a hand through his hair, making himself look tired, worn down. Like he wasn’t the villain here.

"I just… I need you to listen." He met your eyes. "You’re making a mistake with him."  

Your jaw tightened. "George—"  

"He’s hiding things from you."  

That made you pause. And there it was. That tiny flicker of hesitation. George pressed forward.  

"You don’t have to believe me. Just… ask him about her."  

Your brow furrowed. "Who?"  

George leaned back, voice calm. Too calm. 

"The ex he never told you about."  

You inhaled sharply, and George knew—knew—he had just driven the first crack straight through the foundation of your trust. Now, all he had to do was wait for it to shatter.   

That night, George stayed silent. Because he didn’t have to do anything else. He had planted the seed. And now? Now, he just had to wait for Chris to destroy himself. Because if George knew one thing about Chris, it was this: He was a fighter. But sometimes? Fighters swung so hard, they ended up knocking themselves out.

And when that happened? George would be there. Waiting. Watching. And ready to take everything back.

Chris felt it the second you walked in the door. The shift. The hesitation. The way your eyes lingered on him too long, like you were trying to see something that wasn’t there before. And then came the words—the ones that confirmed everything.

"Who’s the ex you never told me about?"

Chris barely blinked. His heart didn’t even pick up pace. Because now? Now he knew. George had played his hand. And Chris? Chris was done playing nice.

He exhaled, setting his drink down, locking eyes with you.  

"I don’t know what he told you," Chris said, voice even, "but it’s bullshit."  

Your jaw tightened. "He just said to ask—"  

"Yeah," Chris cut in. "Because he wants you to start doubting me. And it’s working, isn’t it?"  

You faltered. Just for a second. But he saw it. Chris stepped closer, voice quieter. 

"Think about it. Have I ever given you a reason to question me? Ever?"  

Silence.  

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "Then why would he lie?"  

Chris scoffed. "Because he’s obsessed with you." He took another step, gaze sharp. "Because he can’t handle the fact that you picked me."  

The words hung between you. And Chris saw it then. The hesitation wasn’t just doubt. It was guilt. Because deep down, you knew he was right. George had never let you go. And now? Chris had the leverage he needed.  

The second you left the room, Chris grabbed his phone. No hesitation. He hit call. One ring. Two. Then—  

"You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?" Chris muttered the second George picked up.  

A beat of silence. Then—  

"I don’t know what you mean," George said, voice smug.  

Chris grinned. Because that was the thing about George—he thought he was so fucking smart. He wasn’t.  

"You think this is a game?" Chris asked.  

George chuckled. "Oh, Chris," he sighed, "it’s not a game if I’ve already won."  

Chris’s jaw ticked. Alright. Fine.  

"You want war?" Chris said, voice dropping. "Then you better be ready to fucking lose everything."  

Click. Chris hung up before George could respond. Because talking time was over. Now? Now it was time to end this. 

Chris had been patient. He’d let George play his little mind games. Let him slither around in the shadows, whispering doubts, planting poison. But patience? That was over. George had fucked with the wrong man. And now? Chris was going to tear him apart from the inside out.

Everyone had a weakness. Chris knew George well enough to know exactly where to hit. His job. His reputation. His pride. But most of all? His loneliness. Because no matter how much George had tried to convince himself that you were his, deep down?  

He had always known he was second place. That no matter what, you had never really looked at him the way you looked at Chris. And Chris was about to shove that truth straight down his fucking throat.  

It took a single text.  

Chris: Meet me. No running. No bullshit.  

No response at first. But Chris knew he’d show. Because George wanted a fight just as badly as he did. 

They met in an empty parking lot—neutral ground, far from curious eyes. Chris stood with his hands in his pockets as George approached, jaw tight, eyes dark with something ugly. 

"You’ve got some nerve," George muttered.  

Chris smirked. "You have no idea."  

George scoffed. "What, you gonna try and scare me again?"  

Chris took a step closer, voice low.  

"No," he said, deadly calm. "I’m gonna tell you exactly how this ends."  

George didn’t move.  

Chris tilted his head. "You’ve already lost. You just don’t know it yet."  

George’s eyes flickered. "You don’t—"  

"You don’t have anything, George," Chris cut in, voice sharp. "Not me. Not her. Not a fucking chance."  

George clenched his fists, but Chris didn’t stop.  

"She chose me. Every time. Every fucking time."  

George flinched. Just slightly. But it was enough. Chris grinned.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know it’s true. That’s why you’re so desperate. That’s why you keep pushing. Because you know, deep down, that you were never going to be enough for her."  

Silence.  

Then—  

A sharp exhale. A barely-there crack in George’s armour. Chris took another step forward, voice cold.  

"Let it go."  

George stared at him. And for the first time? Chris saw defeat. Real, raw, inescapable. Because George knew. This was it. The end of the road. Chris turned, walking away without another word. Because he didn’t need to say anything else. George was already finished. 

You found Chris sitting on the edge of your bed that night, head in his hands. You hesitated before stepping closer.  

"Chris?"  

He looked up, eyes tired but steady.  

"It’s over," he said simply.  

You frowned. "What do you mean?"  

Chris exhaled. "He’s done. He’s not coming back."  

Something in his tone made your chest tighten. And then—relief. Real, deep relief. You stepped closer, placing a hand on his cheek, fingers brushing lightly against his jaw. Chris leaned into your touch, letting go. Of the anger. The frustration. The war.  

Because for the first time in a long time? It was just you and him. And nothing else mattered.  

George wasn’t sure when the silence became unbearable. Maybe it was that first night after losing you, when he sat alone in his apartment, staring at his phone, waiting for a message that would never come. Or maybe it was the second night. Or the third. Maybe it was the moment he realised—really realised—that he had nothing left to fight for.  

Chris had won. And George? George was just a footnote in your story now.

The thing about losing wasn’t just the emptiness. It was the knowing. Knowing he had done it to himself. That he had pushed too hard. Played the wrong cards. That no matter how much he wanted to believe you were meant to be his— You had never been his to begin with.  

And now? Now he had to live with that. Drink with that. Sleep with that. Wake up every morning with that weight sitting on his chest, suffocating him. And the worst part? There was no one left to blame. Not Chris. Not even you. Just himself. 

People started noticing. The missed calls. The unanswered texts. The way he pulled away from the group, from everything that reminded him of what he used to have.Even the ones who never really liked him before were starting to look at him with pity.

That was the worst part. The pity. He could handle anger. Hatred. But the way people started talking softer around him, like he was something fragile? Like he was something broken? That made him want to fucking scream.

One night, drunk and desperate, he almost texted you. Almost. The message sat in his drafts. Just four words.  

Do you miss me? 

But he didn’t send it. Because deep down, he knew the answer. And he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing it.  

Weeks passed. Then months. Slowly, the ache became something dull. Not gone. Never gone. But manageable. He started going out again. Started talking again. Started pretending to be okay.

Because that’s all he could do now. Pretend. Move forward. Even if part of him would always wonder. Always think about how things could have been different.  

But it didn’t matter anymore. Because you were gone. And he had no one to blame but himself.

For a while, George’s ghost lingered. Not in the form of late-night texts or drunken calls—those had stopped. But in the memories. The echoes of old conversations. The weight of what had almost been. But eventually, like all things, he faded.  

And what was left? Just you and Chris. Exactly how it was always meant to be.  

It started small. A quiet morning wrapped up in Chris’s arms, sunlight spilling through the curtains. The way he traced lazy circles on your back, murmuring half-asleep "stay a little longer." The laughter that replaced tension, the ease that came with knowing there were no more unspoken battles, no more waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

You didn’t realise how much weight you had been carrying—until suddenly, it wasn’t there anymore. Chris noticed, too.  

"You’re smiling more," he said one day, brushing a thumb over your lips.  

You caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.  

"I think I finally can," you admitted.  

And just like that, the last piece of the past slipped away. 

Life with Chris wasn’t perfect. It was better. Messy breakfasts where he tried (and failed) to flip pancakes. Late-night drives with music too loud, windows down, his hand resting casually on your thigh. Falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, waking up to sleepy kisses and “morning, beautiful."  

No second-guessing. No fear. Just love. Just the two of you. 

One evening, curled up on the couch, you felt Chris watching you.  

"What?" you asked, smiling.  

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Nothing," he finally said. Then—softer, more certain—"Just happy." 

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? After everything—after the fights, the heartbreak, the wreckage, you had made it. Together. And the past? It was just that. The past.

Because in the end, there was only one thing that truly mattered. Chris. You. And the life you had built—without ghosts, without shadows—just love.  

——————————————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this pt2 as much as I do! I may have written it immediately after writing pt1 but I decided to wait to see if you all liked it!

Should I do a part 3?

Tags-

@themdera

[bimrwolf]

Lines We've Crossed (Part 1)

sirius black x reader words: 9,550 warnings: angst??? kissy kissy ... yearning summary: Navigating friendship with Sirius Black has always been tricky—his teasing smirks, his easy charm, the way he always seems to be there when you need him. But lately, things feel... different. Unspoken feelings and jealous glances start to creep in, fueled by a tense confrontation and a heartache you don’t want to name. Between rainy Hogsmeade weekends, stolen kisses that weren’t meant for you, and sharp words you can’t take back, the bond you’ve shared begins to fray. As the shadow of war grows darker at Hogwarts, so do the emotions tangled between you and Sirius, forcing you to face the one thing you’ve been avoiding: the truth about how you really feel—and whether Sirius might feel the same. a/n: yeah so i said i'd never write HP fanfics.... here we are lol Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon)

Thunder rolled and rain pelted against the stone of the Hogwarts castle. You sat in the Gryffindor common room, pouting as you stared out the window. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, but no one necessarily wanted to trudge through the cold, wet rain. A book you had neglected lay nestled in your lap, while your now-cold hot chocolate sat untouched beside you.

You tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter. That Rowan Fairfax canceling on you last minute wasn’t worth the way your stomach twisted every time you replayed the conversation in your head. He had been the one to suggest going to Hogsmeade together, even offered to buy you a butterbeer. But when you asked this morning if he wanted to walk there with you, he’d mumbled something about the rain and avoided your gaze entirely.

It wasn’t just disappointment. It was the way he didn’t even say, Maybe another time. It left you with the sinking feeling that he wasn’t interested anymore. Maybe he never had been.

The thought burned more than you wanted to admit.

You rested your chin in your hand, trying to focus on the rain instead of the sharp ache in your chest. Normally, you’d brush something like this off. But today, it lingered, twisting your thoughts into knots. Was it you? Had you done something wrong?

Your spiraling was interrupted by the sound of the portrait hole opening, followed by familiar chuckles. Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter sauntered in, their voices carrying through the room.

“There she is!” Sirius called, his voice breaking through your melancholy. You turned, startled, as he strode toward you with that same boyish grin he always wore, sliding onto the couch beside you and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

The contact made your skin prickle with warmth, but you quickly shoved the feeling aside.

“We were just talking about you,” Sirius added with a teasing smirk.

Despite yourself, you smiled. Sirius had been one of your best friends since second year. His presence was so familiar it felt like a safety net—steady, dependable, constant. But sometimes, especially moments like this, it felt like too much. Like you were hyperaware of him in ways you shouldn’t be.

James leaned against the back of the couch, grinning. “We were wondering why you weren’t with Lily at Hogsmeade.”

Your stomach sank again at the mention of Hogsmeade. You frowned, turning your gaze back to the window. “I didn’t feel like getting wet.”

Sirius tightened his arm around your shoulders in an exaggerated gesture, his tone full of mock disbelief. “You know there are these objects called umbrellas?”

You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “To level with you, it’s not just the rain. I guess I’m not really in the mood.”

The boys exchanged looks, and Peter let out an exaggerated gasp.

“This is one of the last Hogsmeade weekends before the end of term!” Sirius exclaimed, leaning forward to meet your gaze. His pale grey eyes, always so soft when they looked at you, were filled with genuine confusion.

You tried to hold his gaze, but something about it made your chest ache. “I know,” you mumbled, shaking Sirius off of you. As you moved away from him, you ignored the way his expression faltered. “Thank you for thinking of me, but I’m okay. Really.” 

They all shrugged. Peter sat down and took out a fresh cauldron cake he must have bought at Honeydukes. You started to analyze them and their clothes. Then their hair. “You four came back from Hogsmeade just now?” 

“Yes,” they said. 

“Then how are you all so dry? You look like you haven’t stepped outside.” Sure there were drying spells, but you would still be able to tell they had gotten wet. 

They all looked at one another again, a silent agreement amongst each other. Their eyes wide in panic, clearly hiding something from you. Sirius looked at James, shrugging, but James shook his head vigorously, that if he said anything he’d be dead. 

It was always fascinating to see them communicate without words because James, Remus, and Peter decided to go up to their dorm, leaving you and Sirius alone. You didn’t know if Sirius had won the wordless argument, but he had gotten his way somehow. Sirius quickly changed the subject. “Come on. I’ll go to Hogsmeade with you. Let me buy you a butterbeer.” He had that cheeky grin that he always gave you when he tried to persuade you into doing something. You felt your eyes roll and cheeks heat up at his smirk. You were happy the other boys had left.

“Heard that one before.” You let out a sigh. 

“Huh?” 

You shook your head, kind of grateful he didn’t know. It saved you from embarrassment. “Doesn’t matter.” You bit your lip, looking over at him. “I told you I don’t feel like walking so far in the rain.” 

He smiled again, standing up, holding out his arm for you to take. “Do you trust me?” 

You raised a brow, scoffing. “Yes but–” 

“Then believe me when I tell you the way we’re going, you will not get a single drop of rain on you.” His smile was ear to ear. 

Since first year, Sirius was a mischievous boy. And it never helped that James Potter encouraged the behavior. So it really didn’t surprise you when he showed you the secret passage to Hogsmeade. Sirius made you swear never to tell anyone about it. Ever. 

The pair of you snuck out of Honeydukes, holding in laughter as Sirius had snagged a candy bar from the cellar you ended up in. 

The two of you ran to the Three Broomsticks under an umbrella. Sirius instructed you to find a seat while he retrieved the beverages, which you happily agreed to. You always loved the warmth of The Three Broomsticks. Secretly, you were happy Sirius offered to come with you because the more you thought about it, you’d regret not going. 

You found a table, making your way, smiling wide as you imagined the warm butterscotch. You admired the cozy spot you picked out. You felt better already even when you heard a shrill giggle a few tables over. You looked over, still smiling. You had looked away but looked back, doing a double take. Your face fell. 

It was Rowan Fairfax, sitting across from some blonde haired girl you’ve never seen before. Your eyes narrowed and you faced forward, fists clenched. Sirius noticed right away when he appeared with his hands carrying two pints of butterbeer. “Everything okay?” He set your cup in front of you, slightly startled when you grasped it aggressively, taking a large swig, wiping off the foam from your lip. He watched you in bewilderment as your chair scraped against the wooden floor. You stormed up to Rowan, arms crossed. 

“Not going to Hogsmeade, I see.” Your voice was cool and laced with tiny daggers. 

Rowan’s eyes were wide at the sight of you. He laughed nervously. “Oh… uh… it lightened up so I decided to come. See, I was trying to look for you because I thought maybe you still came but I–” 

You smiled sweetly at him, putting your hand up to stop him from talking. “Oh no! I understand, don’t worry.” 

“You do?” He asked, shoulders relaxing.  

Your smile turned icy as you looked the blonde up and down. “Absolutely! It’s not everyday you find a living thing out of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.” You felt bad, the girl looked nice, but you were fuming with rage. 

Rowan snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Funny. Seems like you’re managing just fine.” He glanced at Sirius behind you, who looked confused about what was going on. “I admit the rain wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to go with you. Maybe it’s because your hands are already occupied by someone else.” 

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell are you talking about, Fairfax?”

“Please,” he guffawed. “Don’t act obtuse. We both know I’m talking about Black! Everyone believes the two of you are already dating.” 

You didn’t expect him to say that. Your face softened but it didn’t stop you from feeling the sting of his words. He gave you a pointed look, smirking. “Or maybe you didn’t notice?” He leaned back looking again where Sirius sat. “You don’t really exactly stop the rumors, do you? Here with him alone and all.” 

Through clenched teeth you finally answered, “For your information. We are just friends.” The irritation in your voice was clear. “Everyone knows we’re only friends.”

“Not sure that’s true. Look at you. You didn’t even wait two minutes to drag him here. I guess you kind of enjoy it. Letting him be your bi–” 

You had had enough. You took the first thing you saw, which happened to be the blonde’s butterbeer. You dumped the rest of the contents all over Rowan. “What the–” The golden liquid ran down his face, soaking into his hair. The girl gasped, but you caught her hiding a smile behind her hand. The entire pub went silent as Rowan sputtered curses at you. 

You didn’t look at Sirius. You couldn’t. The only option you had was to storm out. 

The cool rain drops burned as it fell on your skin.You had your arms crossed against your chest, looking down at the ground. There goes not getting wet. 

It wasn’t long until you heard Sirius calling out your name, his voice was faint at first. He had always been a fast runner, quickly catching up to you. He was breathless but he had gently grabbed your elbow so you’d turn around. He had the umbrella sticking out, letting it shield you from the rain. 

He didn’t know what to say, you could tell. He gave you a small smile. “I promised you wouldn’t get wet…” He tried to joke but he frowned when your jaw ticked. “Listen, I don’t know what Rowan Fairfax said to you but… he’s always kind of been a pompous thickheaded toad.” 

He was only trying to help you feel better but in some way, he was making it worse. Your anger was bubbling again. Your eyes were locked on the ground. The storm inside you was wild as ever. 

“Sirius, I don’t need you to come to my rescue. Not now. Not ever.” You tried to keep your voice steady, and you achieved that by not looking him in the eye. 

He blinked, clearly confused. He looked unsure what to say. “I’m not trying to. I was only making sure you were okay…” 

Your frustration rolled out of you like thunder. “Why do you even care, Sirius?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “We’re not even a couple. You and me. Right?” 

He took a step back. “Of course we’re not. I never said we were. But it doesn’t stop me from caring about you.” 

“Oh sure,” you interrupted him. Your voice was sharp. “Have you ever thought about how many boyfriends I’ve had in all my years at Hogwarts?” 

“What does that have to do–”

“Just answer my question! How many?” You asked, your heart was pounding against your chest. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it. Your lip quivered, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Exactly. None. Not even one. Because apparently, anyone who has ever been interested in me backs off. You know why? Because of you, Sirius. Everyone assumes we’re more than just friends.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t that ridiculous?” 

You ignored how Sirius’ face dropped slightly at the last comment. “I never meant… I didn’t know.” 

You wiped your face. You weren’t sure what was rain or tears anyway. “I just want to be left alone, Sirius. Let’s just only associate with one another when we’re in big groups, okay? No more of… everything.” 

Sirius completely backed away from you. His jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything else to you as he turned back around to head into Hogsmeade. You were certain he was going to the secret entrance, possibly to get back to the castle sooner. You let out a shaky cry once he was gone from view, feeling more alone than ever. Something ached in your chest, like lightning cracking in your lungs. The storm didn’t feel like it was over. 

***

It wasn’t long for the group to feel the tension between you and Sirius. They quickly caught on to the way neither of you looked at each other anymore, how you never spoke directly to him, and how, most of all, Sirius wasn’t all over you. The absence of his usual teasing, his arm slung casually around your shoulders, or even the occasional stolen laugh between you—it was glaring.

They didn’t question it, but it was obvious.

It was the week of the Quidditch Final, and Gryffindor was up against Slytherin. The energy in the Great Hall was palpable, students buzzing with excitement. You, on the other hand, stared listlessly at your plate, poking at your eggs as you sat with Lily far from the boys. You knew they were at their usual spot, probably going on about strategies or Quidditch plays.

Lily was smiling softly, her eyes drifting toward James as she talked about how she had never noticed how fit he was.

You smirked, half-listening, watching the way her green eyes kept sneaking glances across the hall. “Can’t believe you finally caved,” you teased lightly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her tone far too innocent as she blinked up at you.

“Please.” You gave her a knowing look. “You definitely fancy James Potter after all these years rejecting him.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she ducked her head, rubbing at her temple. “I do not... I mean...” She sighed, burying her face in her hands. “He’s not all that bad now. He’s less arrogant, and I don’t know... oh god, what am I going to do?”

You chuckled quietly at her melodrama. “Suppose you’re going to the game then?” you asked, trying to keep the tone light.

“If it means watching Slytherin officially lose the House Cup, then yes,” she said, her gaze flicking across the hall to where Severus Snape sat, his expression sour as always.

Normally, Lily was the first to roll her eyes at the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. But ever since last year—since Snape had called her that name—it felt like something fundamental had shifted in her. You could see it in the way she carried herself, the way her words were just a bit sharper when Slytherins were involved.

You sighed, glancing toward Sirius almost reflexively, even though you told yourself not to. He was on the other side of the hall, a boisterous ringleader as always, getting most of the Gryffindors to join in a chant encouraging James.

Lily smiled at the scene, clearly charmed by the way James tried to hide his embarrassment. Sirius, on the other hand, was utterly shameless, leaping onto the table with Peter and Remus, their arms slung around each other as they swayed to the beat of their own chant.

You couldn’t help but notice the way James’ face lit up when he caught Lily’s gaze. His grin softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine. And Lily, for all her teasing and denial, smiled back, her green eyes gleaming with a happiness you hadn’t seen in her for a while.

You realized, in that moment, that their relationship had shifted. And it would change everything.

You weren’t sure why that realization sat so heavily in your chest. Was it because you envied how easy it seemed for them now? Or was it the fear that everyone was moving forward while you felt stuck?

Your jaw clenched as your gaze fell on Sirius. He was still on the table, completely oblivious to the scolding look Professor McGonagall was shooting his way. He didn’t seem to care. He never did.

And yet, even as McGonagall reprimanded him and took points from Gryffindor, Sirius showed no reaction. He didn’t flinch, didn’t argue, didn’t flash the defiant smirk you’d come to expect from him. He just climbed down, brushing it off like it didn’t matter.

But what frustrated you most wasn’t his reaction—or lack thereof. It was the way he didn’t look at you. His eyes didn’t meet yours across the hall. There was no shared smile, no playful glint.

Instead, he laughed along with James and Remus as if nothing had changed.

Your blood simmered, the boil low and slow, until you realized your fists had clenched under the table. Why does it bother me so much?

You told yourself it was because he wasn’t the same Sirius anymore. He wasn’t your Sirius—the boy who had been your best friend, your anchor. The boy who used to make you feel seen.

It infuriated you because you didn’t even know why it hurt.

Without thinking, you stood up abruptly.

Lily jumped at the sudden movement, startled. “What are you doing?”

You opened your mouth, trying to find an excuse, but nothing came. Instead, you pressed your lips together, the words caught in your throat. “Save me a seat at the game, will you?” you mumbled, your voice tight as you grabbed your bag and scurried off before she could ask more questions.

As you left the hall, your thoughts churned like a storm.

You didn’t want to admit the truth—not even to yourself—but the ache in your chest wasn’t just frustration. It was jealousy, tangled up with hurt and longing in a way that made you feel exposed. Vulnerable.

And it was all because of Sirius.

***

You hadn’t realized Gryffindor had won. The entire game your eyes were glued to Peter who sat by Remus who sat by Sirius who had his arm around a fifth year Hufflepuff, Piper. Your chest felt as if it was collapsing. Your fists were clenched and you were certain if you turned your palms up, indents from your nails would be tattooed into your skin. 

Everytime a chaser from Gryffindor scored. But when James was the one to score, his friends would stand up and cheer. Piper would also stand, clapping her hands, a shrill cheer came out of her. 

The cheers of the crowd swelled around you, Gryffindor red and gold blurring into a sea of celebration. But none of it reached you. Your focus remained fixed, not on the players darting through the air or the roar of James Potter's spectacular goal, but on Sirius.

He was perched in the stands, his arm slung casually over Piper, his easy smile pulling a laugh from her lips. You hated the sound of it. Hated how easily he could charm her—or anyone, really. Sirius Black, the boy who could make friends with a stone if he tried hard enough, was just there, as he always was, and yet, it felt unbearable.

You told yourself you were being ridiculous. Why should it matter? You were upset about the tension between you, about the argument you’d had weeks ago. That’s all it was. Right? That was the reason your chest tightened every time Piper leaned into him, her blonde hair brushing against his shoulder, her laugh echoing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

But when his gaze flicked over to you, just for a moment, and his lips quirked in that familiar sheepish smile—the one that had always felt like it was meant for you alone—your breath caught. It was as if the world had paused, the noise of the match fading into the background. Your stomach twisted, a strange fizzing sensation spreading through you, warm and dizzying and utterly unshakable.

And that’s when it hit you.

You liked Sirius.

No—liked wasn’t strong enough. You cared for him in a way you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to understand before. It was the way your heart raced when he smiled, the way you felt seen when he met your eyes, the way you always seemed to gravitate toward him, even when you were angry.

It was why the sight of his arm around Piper burned like a brand, why your chest ached with a mix of longing and bitterness. You wanted to be the one sitting there, the one making him laugh. You wanted him to hold you the way he was holding her.

Your stomach dropped at the realization. You had been so careful to keep him at arm’s length, to shove those feelings into a corner of your mind and lock them away. But seeing him now, so carefree and entirely out of reach, made it impossible to deny.

The game continued in a blur after that, James scoring again and again, the Gryffindor stands erupting with joy. Lily jumped to her feet beside you, her cheers sharp and triumphant as she hurled taunts at the Slytherin team. Sirius, catching on, shouted something equally bold in her direction. “Hell yeah, Evans!” And she grinned back at him.

You forced a smile, even as your chest tightened. His pale eyes darted to you, his smile softening, like he was testing the waters between you. For a fleeting second, it felt like old times—before the fight, before the distance. But just as quickly as the moment came, it vanished, replaced by Piper’s giggle as she leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

Your heart sank, your fists clenching in your lap. The truth was undeniable now, sharp and unwelcome, but there it was: you liked Sirius Black. And he was sitting beside someone else, grinning as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

You turned your attention back to the game, blinking away the stinging in your eyes as Gryffindor clinched the victory. Around you, your housemates erupted into cheers, Lily throwing her arms around you in excitement. But even as you hugged her back, the ache in your chest refused to subside.

Everyone waited for the team back in the common room which had been decorated in celebration. Lily waited anxiously, hands fidgeting, peering over the crowd of people as the portrait swung open. As if on cue, Peter, Remus, and Sirius appeared with a crate full of butterbeers and sweet snacks. 

Sirius handed you a butterbeer, hands momentarily grazing when you took it… apprehensively. The look he gave you made you swallow the shared secret of how they even acquired a crate full of treats from Honeydukes. No one else knew. And you were sure you weren’t supposed to, but Sirius had trusted you. 

A pang of guilt washed over you. 

He smiled, teeth sparkling out the corner of his mouth. Maybe you two should talk? As soon as the thought crossed your mind, he had already left you, making his way handing out more butterbeers around the room. 

You chugged the glass bottle down, “Are you going to drink yours?” You pointed to Lily’s glass. 

She broke from her daze, staring at James across the room. She looked at the bottle in her hand, shaking her head and giving it to you. Her brows furrowed, concerned how quickly you drank her bottle too, wiping the fizz from your lips with the back of your hand. “Okay, what is going on with you?” 

You looked away, trying not to give away that your mind was occupied with confusing thoughts that you hadn’t figured out yourself. so you lied. “I feel like exams are looming over us.” 

Lily‘s eyes narrowed, scanning you up and down as if she wasn’t entirely convinced. “You do great in all your classes.” 

You hummed. You noticed her attention flickered back over to James. “Are you going to ogle him the entire night or are you going to go talk to him?” 

She frowned and you laughed at her reaction. “Will you just slow down on the butterbeers.” She commented after you had convinced Peter to give you another one. Her hand gently placed on the bottle. “You’ll outdrink the entire team.”

You waved her off, your cheeks flushing from more than just the warmth of the butterbeer. “It’s a celebration, isn’t it?”

She chuckled, removing her hand. “Fine, but only because I’m hoping you loosen up a little.” 

“Loosen up?” you repeated, slightly offended, but she only smirked and gave you a pointed look.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed. It has nothing to do with exams,” she said, leaning closer. “You and Sirius… something’s been off for weeks. Care to explain?”

You froze, your hand gripping the neck of your second butterbeer. “There’s nothing to explain,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Oh, please,” Lily scoffed, crossing her arms. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching.”

Your jaw ticked, avoiding her gaze, bringing the bottle to your lips. Your eyes flicked to Sirius laughing, throwing his arm around James as they cheered. You could hear him telling the crowd a play by play of James. Your lips betrayed you, lifting into a small smile. Your stomach twisted when his gaze landed on you, returning the smile but it looked a little sad. Maybe you should talk to him. 

“Lovesick,” Lily nudged you. 

“Lily!” you hissed, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.

“Well, am I wrong?” she pressed, arching a perfectly manicured brow.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “It’s complicated. We had a… disagreement, that’s all. He’s just a friend. End of story.” Liar. 

Lily didn’t look convinced. “If you say so,” she said lightly, but the knowing glint in her eye remained. She glanced across the room at Sirius, who was animatedly recounting something to James and Remus, his voice carrying over the buzz of the party. For a moment, her gaze softened, and you could tell she wanted to say more. 

But she didn’t and eventually, she caved. Her and James had found themselves on a loveseat. His arm draped over the back, listening to her talk. You on the other hand, had managed to acquire more butterbeers. You weren’t drunk. You felt lighter. That’s what you told Peter who caught you when you tripped on a corner of a table. “Do… you know where Sirius is? I need to have a few words with him.” You stood tall, attempting to make a serious face. 

He looked around. “I’m not sure. He said he was going to get more snacks but that was ages ago.” He frowned, putting a hand on his stomach. “I was looking forward to some Cherry Tarts. I’ll let him know you’re looking for him!” Peter smiled bright at you. 

You couldn’t help but look disappointed. “It’s alright. I think I’m going to go out and get some fresh air.” 

He gave you a knowing look, patting you on the shoulder. As you weaved through the crowds you wondered if he saw right through you. It was impossible, you didn’t even know what there was to see. 

Someone grabbed your arm as you approached the portrait. The grasp wasn’t tight, but firm enough for you to stop in your tracks. Remus towered over you, his face shadowed with forewarning. “Why don’t you go to bed?” His voice was soft, mixed with something else you couldn’t place your finger on. 

“Why? It’s not that late.” You laughed. It was a lie. It was really late. Professor McGonagall would soon make an appearance to shut the festivities down. Or maybe she wouldn’t because Gryffindor had won the House Cup and the term would be over soon. 

He took in a sharp breath. “You look… will you just go to bed?” 

You pulled away from him. “I already told Peter, I’m not drunk. Okay, yes I had a few butterbeers but I’m not going to fall down the stairs or anything of that sort. I only want to feel the night breeze on my face.” 

Something was on the tip of his tongue, his lips parted but it stayed stuck there. He was hiding something. Which meant your curiosity was much more important than his concern for your wellbeing. You opened the portrait, not giving him another look as you left the tower. You had expected there to be something dangerous on the other side from his foreboding tone but nothing of the sort was lingering around. 

You strolled past different paintings, most of them asleep. You always loved the castle at night. You weren’t exactly allowed to be wandering the halls, but you weren’t planning to go far from the common room. You found a spot, a ledge of the castle where you could see the night sky. You sighed, leaning against the cool stone ledge, willing the breeze to clear your thoughts. It wasn’t as if Sirius hadn’t always been like this—charming, magnetic, always surrounded by people who gravitated toward him like moths to a flame. You had spent years watching it, laughing it off. So why now? Why did it feel like something sharp was wedged under your ribs every time Piper giggled at something he said?

Shaking your head, you pushed off the ledge and wandered back toward the common room, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. But as you rounded a corner, you froze. There they were, just ahead—Sirius and Piper.

Your first instinct was to turn back, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the way Piper leaned into him, her voice hushed and sweet as she whispered something in his ear. Maybe it was the way he smiled back at her, that easy, natural smile that used to feel like it was yours.

And then, before you could look away, Sirius tilted his head, his hands cradling her face as he kissed her.

The sight hit you like a Bludger to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. You stood frozen, your heart racing, as a mix of emotions crashed over you. Jealousy, sharp and biting, surged to the surface, followed by an ugly wave of self-doubt. Why her?

Your eyes lingered on the way his fingers tangled gently in her hair, the way her hands gripped his arms as though he was hers to hold. He looked so... confident, so sure of himself. So completely comfortable in a way that made your stomach churn.

Had he ever thought about kissing you like that? The thought burned, and you hated yourself for letting it linger. But as you stood there, unable to tear your gaze away, you couldn’t stop your mind from spiraling.

What does she have that I don’t? She was pretty, of course. A Hufflepuff—bright and cheerful and bubbly in a way that made her impossible not to like. But it wasn’t just that. There was something effortless about her, something easy. She fit into Sirius’ world in a way you never seemed to.

You bit your lip, your fists clenching at your sides. You could feel the sting of tears threatening to brim, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, anger bubbled up, hot and unrelenting. You were angry at him for doing this—angry at her for being the one in his arms—and most of all, angry at yourself for caring so much.

I shouldn’t feel this way, you told yourself. He doesn’t even know. Doesn’t care. Why would he? Perhaps that’s why you were irritated that Rowan mentioned no guy wanted to be with you because of Sirius. No guy wanted to be with you, not even Sirius. You were undesirable. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of a giggle, and it twisted the knife deeper. Sirius leaned closer, his lips brushing against hers again, and you suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed to leave. To put as much distance as possible between yourself and this scene.

But as you turned, you collided with something solid. Peeves.

“Peeper!” the poltergeist cackled gleefully, his voice loud enough to echo down the corridor. You stumbled back, wide-eyed, your cover blown.

Sirius and Piper broke apart instantly, both turning toward the noise. Piper flushed, quickly adjusting her jumper, her embarrassment clear. But Sirius’ reaction was different. His jaw tightened, his expression hardening as his storm-grey eyes locked onto yours.

You stood there for a moment, rooted to the spot, your emotions a mess of humiliation, anger, and something far too raw to name.

“Brilliant,” you muttered under your breath, cursing Peeves as you spun on your heel and stormed back toward the common room. Your footsteps were quick and loud against the stone floor, but they didn’t drown out the sound of Sirius calling your name.

You approached the portrait, clenching your eyes tight as you tried to remember what the password was. 

Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes, burning as you attempted not to let them fall. “Pickle Goblin,” you croaked. The portrait swung open. 

The party had fizzled out. James and Lily were still talking. Remus was on the other side of the room, reading. Peter must have already gone to bed. You stormed inside, ignoring a cheerful greeting from Lily. 

Remus quickly stood up, saying your name sympathetically. 

“Not now,” you choked. The portrait swung open, Sirius’s eyes wide. His hair was disheveled and the little hope you had wanted to believe it was from running after you. He was out of breath, but managed to call your name. You stopped at the door that led to your dormitory. 

Bystanders quickly scurried off to their own dormitories, only leaving you, Sirius, and your friends. You turned around, placing a pretend smile on your face. “Yes?” 

He swallowed, looking over at James, begging for help. “Are we okay?” 

You tilted your head, the smile on your face never reaching your eyes. “Are we okay?” You repeated the words to yourself, looking around the room as if the answer was floating in the air. Your voice was strained and dripped with incredulity. 

He didn’t flinch. His gaze held yours but you saw the flicker of regret. Or perhaps it was frustration, you couldn’t tell. “I mean…” he started, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to fix this. Whatever this is.” 

Lily started to approach you, but you held a hand up, stopping her. “Fix this? Do you even know what this is? You can’t even say it.” 

James shifted awkwardly, tugging Lily back gently by her wrist. "Maybe we should —" he began, but Sirius shot him a look that made him stop mid-sentence.

"Of course I know," Sirius said, his voice lower now, almost pleading. "You stopped talking to me. You-"

Your laugh interrupted him. Remus had stood up this time, saying your name in a warning tone. “Stopped talking to you? Sirius I only told you the truth and you refused to listen to me. I told you we couldn’t do this anymore. We couldn’t do this anymore.” 

“What does that even mean?” His voice got louder. He was frustrated. 

“Exactly! Don’t you see, Sirius. We’ve always been a this. Always close friends who were always together. Always a little too close always giving each other looks that we only know. But never a this that is anything more. And because of that, no one has or will ever see me as anything but your shadow. Not Rowan, not Piper, not even you. Maybe they’re all right. Maybe that’s all I am. In fact, I think you like it because you know that I will do all of those things with no benefits. ” You broke, and your voice quivered. 

Your words hung in the air, suffocating and bitter. 

His face shifted and the confusion left. It was unreadable but you noticed the birthmark above his left eyebrow, knowing it only appeared when he was angry. He answered quietly, “That’s not fair.” 

"Fair?" you repeated, letting out a humorless laugh. "Fair? You think this is about fairness, Sirius? It's about the fact that you're out there snogging Piper while I'm-while I'm-" You stopped yourself, realizing what you were about to admit, and shook your head violently. "You know what? It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" Sirius stepped closer, but you took a step back, your heart pounding.

"No, it doesn't," you said firmly, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Because nothing is going to change. You'll keep being you, and I'll keep being the person no one looks at twice. So, no, Sirius. We are not okay."

For a moment, he just stared at you, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he was holding back a thousand things he wanted to say.

But whatever they were, they never came.

You turned on your heel, your shoulders trembling as you climbed the stairs to your dormitory. You heard James mutter something under his breath, followed by Sirius letting out a frustrated growl.

But you didn't turn around. You didn't look back.

When you finally reached your bed, you collapsed onto it, letting the tears fall freely now.

Somewhere deep down, you had wanted him to fight harder. To say something, anything, that might have made this hurt less. But he didn't.

***

Much like you expected, end of year exams were dreadful. Time dragged on. Nothing was happening except the alarm that the dark wizard, Voldermort was apparently getting stronger and his army was growing little by little. 

There were hushed whispers and rumors that there were Hogwarts students that held allegiance to him. Most of them were Slytherins. 

You hadn’t really had time to even notice the lingering ache of unspoken words whenever you would see Sirius. The tension between you was thick, and if it weren’t for exams, you’d probably drown in it, smothered to death. 

It was easier to busy yourself with studying and homework. You would spend hours in the library, mountains of scrolls for each of your classes. 

Yet, Sirius still found a way to creep into your thoughts. He was unshakeable. It irritated you. Your absentminded tapping against a table forced Lily to stop studying with you.

It was late in the evening when you made your way from the library. You yawned, grateful tomorrow was your last day of exams. The hallways were quiet, and your footsteps echoed, bouncing off the stone wall. You had passed a few ghosts, mumbling about “They’re arguing again.” 

You thought it was weird. Anyone could be arguing but when you turned a corner, you stopped in your tracks. Low, heated voices caught your attention. Two figures were arguing near a tapestry. Sirius and his brother Regulus. 

Regulus looked much like his brother, dark hair, cool eyes. His robes were adorned in Slytherin green. 

Regulus stood rigid. Face stone cold. 

Sirius looked like a storm, hair disheveled, hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. ”I’m not returning and it’s final.” Sirius had run away from home in the middle of the summer holiday, before the school term began. You never saw Regulus and Sirius talk much since then. Only pointed looks full of disappointment from both brothers. 

Regulus crossed his arms. “Because you’re a coward. You’d rather be running around with your pack of strays. You ran away from your family and your responsibilities–” 

“My responsibilities?” Sirius cut in, his voice rising with incredulity. “You mean their leash, their expectations. Their madness. I’m not going to waste my life playing puppet to a cause I despise.” The venom in his tone startled you, even though you’d heard him speak of his family with bitterness before. This was different. It was rawer. More desperate.

Regulus’ face didn’t falter, but his hands clenched at his sides. “You think you’re better than us? That leaving makes you noble?”

“No,” Sirius said, his voice quieter now but no less cutting. “But at least I can live with myself.”

Regulus flinched, his composure slipping for a moment before his expression hardened again. “You’ll regret this, Sirius. You’ll see how wrong you are.”

With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Sirius alone.

For a moment, you considered leaving before Sirius noticed you. This was personal, a side of him he hadn’t chosen to share with you. But before you could slip away, he turned, his storm-grey eyes meeting yours. The air between you felt electric, charged with emotions you couldn’t quite name.

“How much did you hear?” he asked, his tone clipped, the sharpness in his voice not quite masking the exhaustion in his eyes.

You hesitated, unsure if honesty was the right move. “Enough,” you admitted softly. “Sirius—”

“Don’t,” he said, cutting you off as he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “Just... don’t. I’m fine.”

The lie was glaringly obvious, but his tone left little room for argument. Your chest tightened as you watched him, wanting to reach out, to tell him he didn’t have to go through this alone. But the wall he’d put up between you was unyielding, brick by stubborn brick.

“Are you sure you’re—”

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting. His grey eyes met yours, but they weren’t soft or kind like they used to be—they were cold, stormy. “Why do you even care, anyway? I thought we weren’t even friends.”

The words hit you like a hex, stealing the breath from your lungs. You blinked, stunned, as the sting of his dismissal sank in.

“That’s not fair, Sirius,” you said softly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.

“Fair?” he repeated with a bitter laugh, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You made it clear, didn’t you? You don’t want anything to do with me. So why start pretending to care now?”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, anger and hurt warring inside you. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” he shot back, his voice cracking slightly before he turned away, running a hand through his hair again. “Just... leave it, alright?”

The sharpness of his words sliced through you, leaving you frozen in place as he strode down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silence. You stood there, alone and hollow, as the ache in your chest grew heavier, threatening to swallow you whole.

You couldn’t sleep. The dormitory had settled into a quiet hum of steady breathing but you lay awake, staring at the canopy above your bed. Lily had noticed you were upset, but you shrugged her off, pretending to fall asleep before everyone else. 

You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your place to worry. He didn’t want your help and pushing him would only make him more distant than he already was. It wasn’t that you wanted to stop being friends with him. You guess you just had realized you didn’t know how to be friends with him after learning your friendship was the reason boys didn’t want to date you. 

None of your racing thoughts stopped the gnawing worry, watching him argue with his brother, who you knew he was once close to. 

Finally, unable to take the stillness of your bed any longer, you slipped out from under the covers and padded down to the common room. You knew someone had the same idea when you saw the fire, low but still glowing, casting flickering shadows across the space.

Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized that person to be Sirius. He sat on the sofa facing the fire, his head resting against the back, his gaze fixed on the dying embers. His hair looked tousled, hanging over the edge. You considered turning back, afraid he might snap at you again. But something in the slump of his shoulders stopped you. 

You didn’t say anything, but you walked into view, offering him a half-hearted smile. His eyes, though tired, didn’t hold the same sharpness as before. His face softened, gesturing wordlessly to the spot next to him. You approached cautiously, sinking into the seat. 

The silence and tension pressed down on your chest, trying to decide what to say. 

“I shouldn’t have been harsh,” he said finally, his voice rough and low. 

You shook your head, your throat tight. “It’s okay. I was just worried.” 

He gave you a small smile, making you feel that weird fizz in you again. “I never told you why I ran away from home. Did I?” 

You shook your head. 

He let out a humorless laugh, looking back at the fire. For a long moment, he didn’t respond. He fixed his gaze back to you, eyes heavy with a pain you couldn’t describe. “She wanted me to take the Mark.” 

“What?” The air left your lungs in a rush, but your brows furrowed, somewhat hoping it wasn’t what you thought he meant. 

His lips pursed. “My mother,” he answered, his tone bitter. “She wanted me to bear the Dark Mark. Pledge my allegiance to V… the Dark Lord. Said it was my duty.” He paused, his hands clenching to fists. “That’s why I left. I didn’t even pack. I left everything. I didn’t even say goodbye to Reg and I know a part of him hates that I didn’t. But if I had… I don’t think I would’ve gone through with it.” 

He rubbed his face, sighing. “And now my biggest fear is playing out. Regulus is beginning to truly believe the lies of my family. I’m sure it’s my mothers doing.” 

Your heart twisted. “Sirius…” You placed your hand on his. He tensed for a second, and you felt guilty of the weeks you hadn’t been around him that even your touch was foreign to him. He glanced at your hand on his, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, he looked like he might pull away, but then his shoulders sagged, and he let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Regulus... he’s my brother. And I hate what he’s becoming, but at the same time, I can’t blame him. Not entirely. He’s just... he’s stuck. Just like I was.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice. This wasn’t the Sirius who was loud and brash, always ready with a witty comeback or a rebellious grin. This was Sirius stripped bare, raw and aching, and it broke something inside you to see him like this.

“He’s not you, Sirius,” you said softly, your hand still resting on his. “He’s still young. He still has time to see the truth.”

Sirius shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You’re too optimistic for your own good, you know that?” He leaned into you playfully. Another beat went by, and the sadness returned into his eyes. “I don’t regret my choice to leave. But I miss him,” he admitted quietly. “And I hate that I do.” 

You swallowed hard, trying to choose your words carefully. “He’s still your brother, Sirius. That doesn’t just go away.” 

His lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

You smiled softly, the tension between you easing just slightly. For a while, neither of you spoke, the crackling of the fire filling the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It felt... safe. Familiar.

“I miss you,” Sirius said quietly after a while, his gaze fixed on the flames. 

You felt the heat in your cheeks rise and that heavy feeling be placed on your chest again. You swallowed hard. “I miss you too.” 

His eyes flicked back to yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of you. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something that made your heart race and your stomach twist with nerves. You looked away, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

As you sat beside Sirius in the dim glow of the fire, the tension between you seemed to melt into the warmth of the common room. Yet, the knot in your chest remained, twisting with every word, every glance he threw your way.

The air between you felt fragile, as though any sudden movement might shatter the moment. You tried to focus on the flicker of the flames, but your thoughts were a mess of questions you didn’t dare ask. What did all of this mean? For you? For him? For the strange push and pull that had lingered between you for so long?

Sirius shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. It was such a small thing, but it sent a jolt through you, and you suddenly realized how aware you were of him—of his presence, his scent, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you.

Why is this happening now? you wondered, stealing a glance at him. He looked tired, his face shadowed with an exhaustion that went far deeper than the physical. His confession about the Dark Mark, about his family and Regulus, had cracked something open in you—a deep well of empathy and something else. Something warmer. Something you weren’t sure you wanted to name.

You studied his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair fell messily across his face. He was beautiful. He always had been, but now, in this quiet moment, the thought struck you differently. There was something vulnerable about him tonight, something that made your chest ache.

What if you lose him again? The thought whispered through your mind, unbidden and unwelcome. The weeks of tension between you had been suffocating, but this... this felt like a fragile lifeline. You didn’t want to let it slip through your fingers.

Your gaze dropped to his hands, resting loosely on his knees. You thought about all the times those hands had brushed yours—accidentally or intentionally—how they’d tugged you along on one of his harebrained adventures or steadied you when you’d nearly fallen on the Quidditch pitch.

And now, as you sat here together, a thought crept into your mind. A thought you’d pushed aside countless times before, too afraid to confront it. What would it feel like to hold his hand and not let go? To know what it’s like to kiss him? Your cheeks flushed at the thought, and you quickly looked away, scolding yourself. Don’t be ridiculous. He was your best friend—or had been, before everything went sideways. This wasn’t the time for romantic fantasies, not when he was baring his soul to you.

But the thought wouldn’t leave. It settled in your chest, insistent and impossible to ignore. You had spent years brushing off the idea, convincing yourself it was nothing. A fleeting crush. A side effect of being so close. But now, in the stillness of the common room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than that.

“Sirius,” you said suddenly, the sound of your own voice startling you.

He turned to you, his brows lifting slightly. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, your heart hammering in your chest. Don’t do this. Don’t make it weird. He’s already had a terrible night.

But then his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you swore the world stood still. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that made your breath catch.

“Sirius,” you began again, your voice softer now, “have you ever thought about kissing me?”

The words hung in the air, and the moment they left your lips, your stomach flipped with a mix of dread and anticipation. You braced yourself for his reaction, for the laugh or the scoff or—worst of all—the rejection. But none of those things came.

Instead, he stared at you, his eyes wide and searching. “What?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

You laughed nervously, shaking your head as if you could erase the question. “Never mind,” you said quickly. “That was a stupid thing to say.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse roaring in your ears. “I don’t know,” you admitted, though it wasn’t entirely true. “It’s just... I don’t want to go into seventh year never having been kissed. And... I trust you.”

His eyes softened at that, his surprise giving way to something warmer. “You trust me?” he repeated, his voice quieter now.

“Yes,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “I trust you more than anyone.”

He stared at you for a long moment, the firelight flickering in his eyes. You could see the hesitation in his expression, the way he was weighing his words. And for a moment, you wondered if you’d made a mistake. But then he let out a breath, his lips twitching into a small, uncertain smile.

“You really know how to put a bloke on the spot, don’t you?” he said, his tone lighter now, though his voice was still tinged with something deeper.

You couldn’t help but smile, though your heart was still racing. “So... would you?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you as if he were trying to figure out if you were serious. “Are you sure about this?” he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your throat tight. “I’m sure.”

Sirius hesitated, his eyes locked on yours, searching for any sign that you might change your mind. When he leaned in, it was slow, cautious, like he was giving you every chance to pull away. His hand brushed against your cheek, tentative and warm, as his lips met yours in a soft, chaste kiss.

It was simple, just the barest press of lips, but it sent a shiver through you nonetheless. His touch was surprisingly gentle, like he was afraid you might break. When he pulled back, he lingered close, his breath brushing against your skin.

“There,” he murmured, his voice low and almost teasing, though his tone lacked its usual confidence. “First kiss accomplished.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. Something unspoken lingered in the air between you, the warmth of his hand still ghosting on your cheek. The kiss had been sweet, careful... but it hadn’t been enough. Not for you.

“Sirius,” you said softly, reaching for his wrist before he could move away completely. He froze, his grey eyes wide and questioning as you tugged him closer again. “Wait.”

“What is it?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his for the second time. This time, the kiss wasn’t cautious or hesitant. It was fuller, deeper, and it carried all the emotions you hadn’t been able to put into words.

For a moment, Sirius seemed startled, but then he responded, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he kissed you back with more certainty. His other hand moved to your waist, fingers splaying lightly against the fabric of your jumper. You felt his thumb brush a slow circle there, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head slightly, letting the kiss deepen, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. His lips were warm, soft but insistent, moving against yours in a rhythm that made your heart race. There was something intoxicating about the way he kissed—like he was pouring every ounce of himself into it, like he couldn’t get enough.

Your breaths grew uneven, mingling between you as the kiss intensified. Sirius’ fingers tightened slightly at your waist, and you felt the faint scrape of his teeth against your lower lip as he deepened the angle. It was perfect—messy, electric, and far more than you had expected.

And then, just as suddenly, Sirius pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as he broke the kiss. His breathing was unsteady, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.

“Wait,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. His hands lingered where they were, one on your neck, the other at your waist, but he didn’t move closer again. “We should stop.”

You blinked, still catching your breath. “Why?” you whispered, your fingers still clutching his shirt.

“Because,” he said, laughing softly, though there was a tremor in his voice. “If we don’t, I don’t think I’ll want to.”

The words hung between you, heavier than they should have been. You nodded slowly, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and there was something vulnerable in his eyes that made your chest tighten.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his hand brushing against your cheek one last time before he pulled away entirely. He stood, running a hand through his already messy hair, and gave you a small, lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, watching as he turned and disappeared up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.

You sat there for a long time after he was gone, your fingers still tingling where they had touched him, your lips still warm from the kiss. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, but your thoughts were anything but quiet.

The ache that had lingered between you for weeks had softened, but it hadn’t disappeared. If anything, it had transformed into something else entirely—something that both thrilled and terrified you.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

[stardancerluv]

A Space Journey

Part Two

Summary: New developments for Tyler. Reader and Tyler

Notes/Warnings: Mentions of fights in Tyler’s past. Esteem issues with Reader. Company induced angst with Tyler. Drinking. (Be safe and responsibly)

Runs long. It’s been writing itself. Ooh, he so deserved better.

❤️s, feedback, comments & reblogs are welcome!

Tyler, stood outside of the office. Opening and closing his hands, unease prickled him. The rain was particularly heavy today and he was more then happy to be out of it. He couldn’t imagine what they would want. He just had a very good salvage. They should be happy.

“Harrison, get in here.”

Turning sharply on his heal he went into the office. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw a high ranking military officer and someone from the science office.

“You wanted to see me sir.” He kept his eye level straight. Just past the balding, company man that sat behind the desk and directed to to his salvages.

“Yes, Harrison. We’ve noticed you.”

The seat creaked as he sat back.

He felt his heart pick up speed.

“Me sir?”

The man nodded. “One of our bigger cargo ships has gone missing. It’s beacon recently came back online but no one is answering any of the coms we sent.”

The man gave an indifferent shrug.

“Perhaps, space pirates took it, raided it and killed the crew; we can’t be sure. But we want you to go and look into it.”

“When sir?”

“Fifteen days, Harrison.”

“If I may, depending on where it is why not send me now and perhaps I’ll come back faster then planned like with the Omega 17 salvage I just came back from.”

For a moment, a smug expression fell over his face. The pay day and his efficiency was superb. But he caught himself, and went back to a blank expression.

The man behind the desk chuckled.

“Told you guys, my boy is motivated.” The glanced at the two other men. “And he’s good. My best.” He gave him a smile. It made his stomach churn.

The military man stepped forward. “We believe, this time you will encounter hostiles.”

He pressed his lips together.

“Alright. I’ve never dealt with hostiles or anyone for that matter.”

“What about the few fights that led to a late night, dawn in one of the 4 by 10 rooms?” The man’s razor thin mouth cracked into a smirk that spread across his face.

This was beginning to sound like something he may not walk away from. He felt ill.

“Easy. You will get some training. You don’t get it, it doesn’t sink in before we need to ship out; we replace you.

“Hey, you said it would be my man we’re using.” The man behind the desk genuinely rankled.

Tyler never would have guessed that he cared one way or another.

The military officer shrugged. “My men will give you a rundown on how to handle yourself.”

“What about my crew?”

“Honestly? We are well aware of how important your family is to you, they can stay on the Corbelan IV, your cousin doesn’t need any help from us. Or we can give you a different crew.”

The man’s tone was as flat and as unforgiving as he looked.

“We don’t care as long as you accomplish what we want you for.”

“How’s the payout?”

The man behind the desk let out a chuckle. The military officer glanced down at him and back to him.

“If it all works out you will be able refit uthe Corbelan IV with the repairs its been needing and more.”

“Alright done.”

“Go to quadrant twenty seven at eight hundred hours tomorrow.”

********

Tyler, moved through throngs of people. Another miserable day in Jackson. His mind was a jumble. Did be really say yes?

“Baby want a good time?” Hand reached out, he grimaced and shook his head barely stopping.

He had to get out here. You all did. Damn, you had never even see anything else.

He was grateful, when he got to the Corbelan no one was there. He needed some time to think.

He plopped down in one of the chairs. It barely gave under his weight. But it would have to do. Looking out of the shuttered smudged window, he saw more dark clouds had rolled in bringing more rain.

He raked his fingers through his hair. He could do this. If he felt strong enough he’d bring the others along. How would he even explain using another crew.

He smirked to himself, at the idea of making some solid credit. They had wanted him. His eyes moved over the small sitting space. Grungy, cramped. Far too small. He rested a boot on the table.

Two small hands that had rough softness covered his eyes. A broad smile curled his lips.

“Guess who?”

He chuckled, tilting his head to one side. “My annoying sister.”

A peel of laughter came from above him.

“Guess again?“

“Oh! Oh! I know Navarro.”

“No!!!” You slipped to the side of him, hand on your hip.

“I knew it was you.”

He chuckled but as he looked you up and down, a smirk curled his lips. Damn. Even in your faded, torn company shirt and cargo pants you looked good.

“Looking good baby.”

You shrugged. “May I?“ Your eyes fell to his lap and back up to his eyes.

“Please.” He smirked pushing against the chair, it was unforgiving. So he could happily make room for you in his lap.

You easily made yourself comfortable. It relaxed him after what he had just gone through, good or bad. It had filled him with unease filled confidence if that was even possibly.

You wiggled more and then giggled.

“Tyler? Are you off world?”

Another giggle came from you.

His attention coming back to he rose an eyebrow as he saw you giving him a playfully serious look from under the shield of his cap. You were far too cute sometimes.

“Just the meeting I had.”

He made a face, mentally shrugging the feel off. He looked at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“What? Oh this?” You playfully placed your hands on his cap.

He motioned for it. “Give it back.”

“Nah, its comfy. I like it.”

He made a swipe for it. You avoided his hand and squealed.

Wrapping his arms around you he held you close. Easily snatched it off your head, pulled it onto his.

You were beginning to protest, when he dipped close and pressed his lips against. He felt a soft push before he felt you melt against him.

*******

Eyeing your reflection in the scrapped, mirror. You frowned. Even though the rain had let up and you all could walk to the bar with just ash and soot hanging in the air, your hair fell flat.

You had never been one to use taming spray. But it just looked so boring and dull. You had wanted to look good for Tyler.

Kay came bouncing up behind and gave you a tight embrace. You could smell the soft scent of the drinks she had been enjoying. She endearingly, pressed her head against yours.

“What’s the matter? Is my brother being insufferable?” Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

“No.” Your shoulders slumped. You patted her arms. “He’s great. I just don’t think I’m enough.”

She pulled back and turned you to face her. “What is this?” Her eyes were sharp with concern. “He adores you. I’ve never seen him so happy.” She chuckled. “So full of himself. He’s like I got the best so I am the best.” She smiled.

“Truly.”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen him so confident.” She looked playful. “If I didn’t like you so much, I would have pushed him out of the Corbelan long time ago.”

You smiled then. “If you say so.”

“I do.” She offered an arm. “Now, let’s get back out there! We have to get a few more dances in and have a few more drinks.” She gigglee.

“Yes!”

******

“One more.” He gave you a wink, taking the glass. “You gotta finish yours too.” His gestured to yours.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You hopped onto the stool beside him, grabbing your own glass.

You glanced over at the small very jammed dance floor Kay was shimmying with some random blonde guy you once or twice saw in your sector of the mine. You had lost track of where Bjorn and Navarro were.

You looked back at Tyler in time to see him bringing the glass to his lips. In the hazy, warmth the drinks you had distantly made you jealous of the glass. Looking him over, you noticed how sweat prickled his dark strands, his cheeks were flushed and how he tilted his head back as easily drank the entirety of the glass.

A loud sigh came from him, slamming the glass down he wiped his mouth the back of his hand. “Ready?”

You nodded, happily taking his hand.

His hands were firm, as he held you to him. You fingers grazed through the shorter strands of where he shorn some of his hair. It was a wonderful contrast to the longer, soft strands.

You giggled softly as he leaned in close, his lips grazing your throat. He nipped at you. It made you wiggle against him.

“Man, I want you.” His voice rasped in your ear.

Moving just so. Loving how his scent enveloped the two of you. It pushed away the others or even the place.

“I will always be yours.” You whispered in his ear.

He pulled you even closer to him.

******

He rubbed his temples under the water beating down at him. He really shouldn’t have drank that much last night.

But then again, it was the night before the company owned more of him. He was doing this for you and the others. He had to keep telling himself this.

******

He swished the water and the paste in his mouth after scrubbing at his teeth. Might as well not look and smell like he had danced and drank the night away.

Going into the kitchen, he opened one of the containers and snatched up two blocks of the corn bread. Sighing, he munched on one. By the time he came back to his room. He placed the one he grabbed for you by the environment gauge and time giver.

Carefully, he pulled on his long sleeved, thermal shirt leaving the buttons undone, always felt strangled otherwise and then he pulled on a pair of his heavier socks. He looked back at you. He had wanted to tell you, more then he even wanted to tell Kay or Bjorn but right now, he couldn’t he had to get the feel of things.

A soft sound came from you, still asleep as you moved and settled onto your back. You had snagged one of his shirts. Seeing you in it, made him smile.

Looking away, he reached out and pulled over his boots. Another soft sound came from you. Maybe he should leave a note, but you and the others knew how sometimes he would leave early if he had a good lead on a new salvage. But this was different. He chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Tyler?” Your voice was soft, still heavy with sleep and he felt your hand on his back.

He put on a brave face, a winning smile

“Hi sleepy.”

“You are already leaving?”

He nodded. “Got to.”

“Ok.” He felt your hand leave his back. He shuffled a bit to face you more.

You looked back at him.

“Look you trust me right?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He chuckled softly. “Look I got some good things ahead. I promise.”

You pressed your lips together. “Good. Just be safe.”

“Me? Always.” He pointed at his table. “Look, I even nabbed your favorite. The corner of the corn bread.”

You smiled then. “Thank you.”

“Nothing but the best, I can give.”

You moved fast and hugged him tight. You tucked in under his chin.

“Baby?“ He without hesitation hugged you back.

“Had a nightmare.”

He squeezed you. “Nothing will get me.”

He felt as you nodded.

“Now you are one that’s gotta to be safe in the mine today.” He rubbed your back. “Take a tablet before you head out, to clear your head. I’ll get us some good rations for tonight.”

*******

A few hours in, sweat was running down his face. He rubbed his forehead with his arm. They prodded him, pricked him to draw his blood. Now, he was hooked up to something and he was running on some kind of device; it beeped in time with the beat of his heart. He could not wait to get back to you and the others.

[gojoonsaturn]

Let's talk about love?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem reader

wc: 1992

a/n: When Satoru Gojo appeared at your doorstep with two little children five years ago, you were stunned. The smug, cheeky and selfish Gojo, who was a narcissist (in fact, there are many other adjectives that could be used to describe him), decided to take care of other people's children. At first, you were skeptical, but over time, the four of you became close, and they have become an integral part of your life.

warnings: dialogues, because i love them; fluff, a bit angst, mentioning the death of the reader's parents, grumpy Megumi, cute Tsumiki, loving Satoru, you are parents of Fushiguro! and something more that you'll find (yes, i hate writing warnings)

english is not my first language, nor even second, so there may be mistakes, but i really spent a lot of time proofreading and improving my works.

“What is love?”

Tsumiki was lying next to you late at night, you were reading books together, and at some point, the girl put hers aside and turned to you with a question.

“Love? It depends on the type of love you are talking about. For example, we both love to read, so in that case, love could be seen as a hobby. It’s about enjoying the process of getting lost in another world and getting to know the characters. Or you love Megumi, that’s a different kind of love - a love for a family member.”

“Or how you and Gojo love us, right?”

“That’s right.” You nodded and smiled at Tsumiki.

“And what about the love between two people?”

“Ugh, that’s more complicated, I think. I guess it’s like a friendship that takes on a special level.”

“And how to distinguish a strong friendship from love?”

“Well…” You said, scratching your head and thinking about it. Tsumiki gave you some time to gather your thoughts and waited silently for you to continue the conversation. “I think that, apart from the emotional connection, love is mostly based on physical interactions. When you hug, kiss, or do even more intimate things, it creates a strong bond between you. It’s like there’s something inside us that makes us feel special when we’re with the person we love.

“Like butterflies fluttering in our stomachs?” Fushiguro suggested.

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“And how do you understand that a person loves you, and not just friends with you?”

“I guess it’s hard to tell sometimes, but I think it’s important to listen to your heart. If you feel a strong connection and a deep love for someone, then that’s probably how they feel about you too. To be honest, I’m not sure. People say that if someone loves you, they want to be close to you. When they’re laughing, they’ll look at you. Sometimes, you look at people in love, especially if they try to hide their feelings. They might act awkwardly, but it’s still fun to watch. Of course, caring is also important. Friends care for you, but when you’re in love... It’s a deeper level of caring you feel instinctively. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Not yet, but I think I’ll figure it out in time, don’t you think?”

“Of course! You have your whole life ahead of you. You will definitely find someone who will bring you true love.”

“And you? Have you ever been in love?” Miki asked thoughtfully.

You sighed and fell silent.

“Probably, yes.” You said after a brief pause.

“Is it Gojo?” Tsumiki jumped up and approached you.

“What makes you think so?” You frowned and tried to hide your smile.

“I think he’s in love with you!”

“Miki, unfortunately, love isn’t always mutual. Sometimes, one person loves another, but the other doesn’t feel the same way.”

“You don’t like Gojo?!”

“No, I like him as a friend. Like your dad.” You made air quotes. “I like him as a sorcerer. He’s incredibly powerful, and during our studies, he helped me more than once with my techniques. But sometimes, he can be unbearable!”

Tsumiki laughed and looked at you with a barely suppressed smile on her face.

After a few weeks of busy schedule and constant work, Gojo and you had a few days off. Satoru suggested everyone go to Okinawa, and the children happily accepted, while you seemed slightly tense.

“Is something wrong?” Satoru asked casually.

You rubbed your forehead and forced a smile.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s actually a good idea. We’ve all been working hard lately, so it would be good to take a break.”

The next day, the four of you boarded the plane and waited for takeoff. You tried to avoid looking out the window, instead of listening to music with your eyes closed. Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on your arm and opened one eye to see Megumi encouragingly smiling at you. He winked, quickly realizing that you were scared of flying. You smiled gratefully at him and intertwined your fingers with his, closing your eyes again. This time, the fear inside you partially eased.

Once you arrived in Okinawa, you checked into the hotel and headed to the beach. While the children played in the water, you read a book, with Satoru resting on your lap. Gojo lay there, sipping a cocktail.

“Are you okay?” You asked, putting down the book and sensing that he was lost in thought.

“Yes, it’s just a place…” He got up from your lap and sat next to you, watching Miki and Megumi play in the sea. “By the way, I noticed Fushiguro comforting you during the flight… You never mentioned that you were afraid of flying.”

“I don’t think that’s information that needs to be shared.” You scratched your forehead.

“Why not?”

“My parents died in a plane crash.” You overcame the lump in your throat and managed to say the words in a calm tone. “I was 8.”

Gojo took a deep breath and moved closer to you.

“Do you understand that it’s okay to grieve? You don’t have to act like an adult and pretend that you’re not worried about it.”

You felt tears welling up and buried your face in your knees. When you thought the tears had stopped, you looked up to see Satoru smiling softly. You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, so you simply looked at him.

“I’m so grateful to have you. I guess for me, you are the family that I have never had.” You said, and Satoru took your hand and kissed the back of your palm.

Miki watched this interaction and smiled at herself.

A couple of hours later, Satoru was playing in the sea with the children. He picked Tsumiki up on his shoulders and chased after Megumi, who was splashing water at him. As you watched this scene, you felt all the tension in your body melt away. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, Satoru and the joy of the children brought a sense of calm to your heart. You stood up from the deck chair and walked towards the group. Megumi ran towards you and hid behind you from Gojo and Miki. You waved your hand, and a small wave washed over Satoru and Tsumiki, causing both of them to squeal.

“That’s not fair!” Satoru removed Tsumiki from around his neck and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in a show of displeasure.

“Come on, it’s fun!” You patted the guy’s head as you approached him, brushing the sand from his shoulders.

After a few minutes, you noticed that the children were starting to get tired. You led them to their rooms, tucked them into bed and decided to return to the beach for the sunset.

As the sun was setting, Gojo took you to the sea. The water was quite cool, but Gojo’s warmth kept you comfortable. Satoru refused to let go of your hand until you were up to your chest in the water. The sun had nearly set when the man pulled you towards him and gently kissed your lips. He felt you both needed it, but was still afraid you would push him away. Instead, you snuggled closer and returned the kiss with equal intensity.

The next morning, the four of you were sitting at breakfast. Your smiles were subtle, but Tsumiki noticed something had changed. Gojo was rambling, and you smiled at every word he said. Later, at the beach, you were all playing in the water. Satoru kept touching you, and you responded eagerly.

“Something has changed between them.” Miki said to her brother, as they relaxed on the deck chairs, watching you sit by the sea.

“What do you mean?” Megumi replied, frowning in confusion.

“Their smiles, their touches... they weren’t like they were before.” The girl said with confidence.

Fushiguro turned his gaze towards his parents and looked at them for a long time. Previously, you avoided unnecessary touching, but now you were sitting with your shoulders leaning against each other and your back relaxed, while Gojo’s hand was still holding onto your waist. Megumi watched this, not noticing how you and Gojo approached him.

“Would you like to try riding a banana-boat?” Satoru suggested.

“A banana?” Fushiguro was still lost in his thoughts, so he didn’t immediately understand what the guy was talking about.

“Or we could look for a kiwi or a watermelon!” Gojo said and laughed.

Megumi rolled his eyes at the joke, but you laughed loudly and put your hand on his shoulder. Miki looked at her brother pointedly, but he turned away, muttering something under his breath in displeasure. You noticed it quickly and took your hand away from Satoru, stopping your smile.

“Why don’t you go first, just the two of you, then Megs and I?” You said, raising your eyebrows and pointing at the boy.

Gojo immediately understood what was going on and took Tsumiki on the water attraction.

“Is everything okay?” You plopped down on the blanket next to Megumi and gently nudged him on the shoulder.

“You and Gojo are together now?” The boy deliberately emphasized the last word.

“I think so.” You realized it was pointless to hide it from him, so you decided to just admit it.

“I see.” Megumi tried to avoid eye contact with you.

“Is something wrong?” You placed your hand on Fushiguro’s shoulder.

“I just thought that... Gojo is not good enough for you.”

“Wow!” You even pulled away from Megumi and frowned. “It seemed to me that everyone should decide for themselves who is suitable for them and who is not. Besides, you know, sometimes you can’t control love. Your body reacts to a person physically, while your brain isn’t even aware of it.”

Megumi turned to you and saw a smile on your face. He could tell from the look in your eyes that you were partly in your thoughts and probably thinking about Gojo.

“Do you really love him?”

“I’ve known him for five years. During that time, he has been by my side 80% of the time and has always supported me. I think what I feel for him could be described as love. I don’t know what he feels, but I feel comfortable with him. In general, I am calm around you. You are like a family to me, which I have never had before.

Megumi went through a complex thought process in his head. After thinking for a while, he nodded to himself.

“Where is your banana-boat?”

The next morning, Megumi knocked on Gojo’s door. After a long wait, Satoru opened it, but he seemed annoyed and wanted to slam it in Megumi’s face. The man quickly left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Has something happened?” Gojo asked, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

“Do you love her?” Fushiguro asked suddenly, taking Satoru by surprise.

“Yes, I have loved her since she came to Tokyo Jujutsu High.” Gojo answered.

He realized that he did not want to deny his feelings and confessed immediately.

“It’s good that you weren’t hesitant. But if she gets hurt because of you, I will kill you.” Megumi replied.

If Gojo had heard this from another nine-year-old boy, he might have laughed and patted him on the cheek. But looking at the serious expression on Fushiguro’s face, he didn’t move a muscle and simply nodded in agreement. The man knelt down in front of Megumi and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Listen, Megumi, she is not going to suffer because of me or because of anything else. I promise you."

“What is it?” You mumbled sleepily, pulling Satoru back to bed.

“It’s just that... The staff wanted to check if we need any extra cleaning.”

You smiled through your sleep and hugged Gojo, pulling him closer to you.

[loving-family-poll]

Omg we can send you weirdcest confessions? I have a little classic codependent dynamic with my younger brother which might tickle some people.

Soooo, I moved half way across the country many years ago because prior to that I had been sharing a 1 room apartment (a bed too but very kosher I promise, rent is just expensive) with my brother for years as I pushed him to finish highschool and start college classes and just looked out for him so that he didn't get lost in the shuffle when my parents divorced because he was the youngest.

The thing is that by the time he was an adult, I never wanted to give him up. Like, if we could go to old age as a duo, I would have been happy. I had a lot of angst that I wouldn't let him mature so I did something weird and dramatic - I moved the fuck across the country, pretty much dropped out of his life just when he had reached adulthood and left him.

It was kind of a stone cold thing to do, but I moved in with someone I was dating online and went through a whole relationship till that ended. On the other hand, it was none too soon because at that point he kept trying to share his porn collection with me and mentally I was like, dude, i know this trope, I invented it.

tbh he really missed me so much and vice versa. I think both of us experienced a level of loneliness we never would have felt if I hadn't just arbitrarily decided it was bad if I let us stay co-dependent. I don't really know if it was justified. The few times we visited each other over the years, we basically just cuddled and missed each other and moped about being sad.

But it worked? He stuck like glue to a large group of friends and even started dating one of them, the girl who would eventually become his fiance.

This woman. I hated her for years. I thought she was terrible for him. She was too attractive and too cool tempered and too intelligent, and I just thought she was going to break his heart eventually. But, somehow they worked out, and when I moved back to my hometown she lured me in like a scared alley cat by making me feel welcome in the gentlest of ways, never overwhelming, an introvert's overture to another introvert.

My brother and I used to mildly flirt with each other pretty often as a joke, and he still does, although I try not to encourage it. It's a little too on the nose, right? If you scratch me, I bleed incest fandom. But these days its usually his fiance making jokes that I should be the filling in a them sandwhich (sit between them) because they want to "share me" My brother's fiance is ace or I would be a lot more freaked out about that tbh. I think they just both like to make me blush, which I can't blame them for.

NGL, I think she is pleased to have achieved two brothers for the price of one.

I thank god she is ace, because she is a menace - in one afternoon she will ask me to lather her back with sunscreen, invite me to check out at her bottom (for ticks) and cheerfully command me to smack her boob (there was a fly,) all while my brother is there watching and laughing as I flounder in queer panic.

In a more concrete fashion, they want me to move in with them when they buy their house and cosign on it and everything. So I guess I am getting what I wanted, but it's a trio instead of a duo.

Bruh I think they want to fuck you

[themenendezbrothers]

2006 partial transcript of Erik and Tammi on Larry King Live.

E. MENENDEZ (by telephone): The only book that's ever told the true untold story about me, what I did, the secrets I've never spoken about, about my childhood and prison.

KING: Why did you decide to do it now?

E. MENENDEZ: Well, for many reasons. One of the foremost is because I wanted people to really be able to get a sense of what Tammi and I are like together and what she means to me and hopefully what I mean to her and who I am because no other book or movie or documentary has ever, ever showed who I am as a person. Certainly, nothing's ever been written about me by someone that actually knows me.

But there's another reason, one that's very meaningful and important to me and that's that in being married to me, and Tammi will tell you all about this, she's faced a lot of hardship and in fact this book has outraged a lot of people. Some people thought it shouldn't be written and I disagree.

With this book, Tammi isn't just standing up for me and standing up for herself, she's standing up for millions of prisoner wives and family members who have been demeaned and outcast because they love a prisoner.

KING: Who would be outraged, Tammi? Who's outraged?

T. MENENDEZ: Well, my family for one and a lot of people that -- I -- I get a lot of e-mails from people that just, you know, don't understand why I wrote the book, why I'm writing it, you know. I get a lot of, you know, negative e-mails.

KING: Erik, we hear little beeps. Do they monitor your calls?

E. MENENDEZ: All -- all the calls are monitored and definitely recorded.

KING: Have they moved you around prison to prison?

E. MENENDEZ: They -- I spent nine years at Folsom Prison, at old famous Folsom Prison so it was the New Folsom. Now I got transferred to this prison about a year ago and I was in the Los Angeles County Jail for over six years.

KING: But how do you adjust to incarceration?

E. MENENDEZ: Human beings adapt. The one thing that we never are able to really adapt to is the level of violence and the angst between prisoners and guards and prisoners. Having to survive each day in here is -- is very difficult.

I wrote, I don't know if you're aware of the fact, I wrote a separate chapter to this book because I really wanted people to get a sense of what I go through in prison each day and what Tammi and I go through just to be together and get it in my own words and I wanted people to be able to see that because it's really an -- it's such a difficult experience to describe in just a few sentences that it's -- I felt it important to put it down on paper.

KING: How old are you now?

E. MENENDEZ: I am 35. I just turned 35.

KING: Do you ever regret what you did?

E. MENENDEZ: Immensely so, immensely so, not a day goes by when I don't wish I could undo this or I could bring them back. It's my unending regret and in a sense it's my real prison.

KING: Children do not have to love their parents. I guess parents love their children. Children don't have to love their parents.

E. MENENDEZ: Well, I think that -- I think that all children love their parents. I think that children love their parents even more than parents love their children. Parents are like gods to kids.

Certainly my parents were the only -- the greatest figures I've known. I was literally dependent upon them for survival and I think that kids love their parents more than parents love their kids.

KING: Do you ever see or talk to Lyle?

E. MENENDEZ: I have not spoken to Lyle in over ten years. I have not seen him in over ten years. The last time I saw Lyle we were -- it was three o'clock in the morning and we were put in separate vans and we were chained up and there was that experience where I -- where I last saw him.

But Tammi really captured -- she writes about -- writes about this and she really captures it. It's very hard to describe that last moment when I saw him. You're going to have to read about it.

KING: Why can't one prisoner talk to another prisoner somewhere else?

E. MENENDEZ: You just can't get around the prison system, Larry. The prison system is what it is. KING: Why commit to a marriage to this beautiful, young lady? You're never going to have sexual relations. Why didn't you say to her "I'll be your friend. I'll write to you. I'll talk to you. Get a romantic life."

E. MENENDEZ: You know that's a good question and -- and Tammi is going to have to help me answer it. I mean the first time I looked into Tammi's eyes I felt like I had come home. She's not just my best friend. She's my -- she's my great love, Larry.

This woman is everything to me and so at the beginning of our relationship we tried to just make it a friendship and it was a friendship for many, many years, a platonic friendship.

But then when she came up to visit, and you can tell him about this baby, when she came up to visit, I just -- I saw so much more in her and I fell hopelessly in love with her and I couldn't help falling but I never expected her to fall in love with me.

Marriage was certainly the farthest thing, you know, in the back of our minds, well certainly hers and I just, you know, that's something that we go through now and as you read in the book it's been her great struggle.

I think it's a great struggle for anyone that marries or is with a prisoner is that separation and joining the two different worlds. It's still a struggle that we go through but it's our love that keeps us together but it's not an easy road.

KING: You don't feel he subjected you to something, in other words that he could have said "I'm madly in love with you but you have a right to a life outside of this"?

T. MENENDEZ: Well, I mean I know that he struggles with that every day, you know, especially when we talk about the appeal later. You know, we've had some bad news with the appeal and I know that he's come to me and he said, you know, "I don't know if I can let you do this life."

And, I know that he -- it's not like he's like you got to be with me and this is it. He struggles with it. He wants to release me but yet, you know, it's a pain within him that wants me to stay so, you know.

E. MENENDEZ: It's the hardest thing I can -- I can -- I can go through is exactly what Tammi said. It's like I want her to be free. I want her to have pure happiness. She's a beautiful woman. She's intelligent. She's incredibly compassionate.

She can -- she can -- there's 100 guys that can give her more on a physical level than I can but I -- so I can -- I can -- I have to focus on just cherishing her and appreciating her beautiful finer qualities and pour all of my energy into her and that's what gives me joy.

It's the only thing that gives me happiness in prison and letting it go it would -- it would certainly all but ruin my life. I mean just devastating. It would be the end of me. But, at the same time, I struggle with it because I want her to have that and Tammi as long as she'll have me I will -- I will cherish her forever.

KING: The book is "They Said We'd Never Make It, My Life with Erik Menendez," available online at erikmenendez.com. It's a hell of a read. We'll be right back with both of them right after this.

(COMMERCIAL BREAK)

KING: We're back with Erik Menendez and Tammi Menendez. They are married. They are happily married. They are the -- I guess they're the co-authors, although she's listed as the author, "My Life With Erik Menendez" available online at erikmenendez.com. Do you often, Erik, think what any man would think -- she's got to be with somebody tonight?

E. MENENDEZ: You mean in terms of her being unfaithful?

KING: Yes. I mean, who wouldn't think it?

E. MENENDEZ: It's a fear that's almost primal, that I certainly had early on. But Tammi is -- Tammi's a remarkable woman. I mean, any woman that could be with a guy in prison is going to be remarkable. but she is -- she's something really, really special. And she calms my fears, and just her morals and her values and her ethics. I don't doubt her. And I've -- it's inconceivable to me.

T. MENENDEZ: I'm always available for his calls. If I wasn't available for his calls, then he might get a little...

KING: ... You never see a man you're attracted to, ever?

T. MENENDEZ: Well, I mean, it's rare. It's rare. But I have seen a few, you know...

E. MENENDEZ: ... Well, that's not a fair question, Larry. Have you ever seen a woman you're attracted to?

KING: Yes.

E. MENENDEZ: You're married.

KING: Of course.

T. MENENDEZ: But I mean, no. I had a friend that I worked out with, a body-building body friend of mine. And Erik was really...

E. MENENDEZ: We don't like to talk about him.

T. MENENDEZ: ... Nervous about me being with him and working out with him, who -- he eventually became Mr. California. And, you know, so -- that was a little -- yes. But I mean, yes, we have that, because he's in there.

X

[tsukinotori]

And for my happiness this life is too small

Gojo Satoru x reader (platonic), mention of Megumi Fushiguro x reader

word count: 984

Before seeing Geto, Nanami and the others, Gojo has one more place to visit.

notes: angst, mentions of death, may contain errors (English is not my native language, so I apologize)

He wasn't quick enough to hide his pain when he saw you.

The morning light was flooding his kitchen. You were sitting at your desk with your legs tucked under you, and he towered over you like a scolding parent. You lifted your head from your folded arms when you felt him coming.

"You're feeling much better," he said, grinning, wanting to forestall any questions.

When your face fell in question, he pointed a finger at his hair, then at yours.

"You can stop looking like a punk girl sometimes. For a change."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, but a smile still tugged at your lips.

"You could have just said hello like normal people. For a change."

The two of you looked at each other in silence, afraid of what you might say or hear if you asked questions.

The table creaked as someone leaned on it, and then Satoru's long arm reached across and slapped you across the forehead. You reacted too late, clutching the bruised spot with both hands and nearly falling backwards in your chair.

"Ow! Are you completely mad?"

"I hoped you were smarter than that. You could have gone anywhere, even Disneyland", he grumbled, raising his hand with open fingers to his face and grimacing. "Why this place?"

You didn't answer right away, rubbing your reddened forehead with your hand. Removing your hand from your face, you turned your head to the side, and Gojo noticed four more chairs.

For one heartbeat, he thought he might cry. A little girl in his kitchen, which was too big for one.

Sometimes Yaga said that the reason he took in the children was not so much to save them, but to save himself from loneliness. Satoru had nothing to say to him right now.

You looked at him, smiling awkwardly.

"I'm still waiting."

The light from the window behind you fell on the top of your hair, illuminating it as if you had a halo. The creaking of your feet scraping the floor rolled through the room until Gojo sat down, clasping his hands and resting his head on top. It was so similar to the pre-magic time, when the three of you went to a regular school.

He would go on missions to the other side of the planet, and when he returned, he would find lunch and a house without a single uninhabited corner. In every forgotten child's clothes or lost notebook in the hall there was life. Someone's presence. One day, he realized that he had learned to warn of his return and wait for a greeting in return.

"So then, Kenjaku didn't let you die?"

You nodded, not looking at him. You stared intently at the palms of your hands lying in front of you. "Honestly, I can't say even now. But from the way it turned out, I can guess - he had control over the curse in me".

"That old bastard".

"Gojo", your face frowned slightly.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back with one hand.

"Do you seriously want me to hold back? Is there a Yaga somewhere in here?" Making a visor with his hand, he jokingly began to look around the kitchen, trying to find the director.

You did not look impressed.

"Tsumiki would be upset if she heard".

He took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. Thought about peace and wished that he could find it.

In the back of his mind, Gojo heard Tsumiki exhale the same slow breath as she did before starting a lecture or glaring, crossing her arms, depending on the level of disappointment.

With one hand, you clutched the pendant, glinting in the sun. Gojo had seen it enough times to know that you were starting to get nervous.

"How is... Maki?" you asked, the question he had been expecting and desperately hoping he'd never hear.

Gojo swallowed, trying to find the words, feeling weak as his throat tightened once more. Maintaining infinity was easier than controlling his own voice, but on the second try he managed to say,

"Was so damn mad at you for screwing up," and even though he was joking, you visibly sagged at his words. "So we'll have to save ourselves from her together."

You laughed dryly. It was still a frustrated laugh, but it was something.

"You want to ask how Megumi and the others are?"

You nodded. Then shook your head.

"Part of me is. The other part isn't sure."

Without realizing it, you had long since let go of the pendant, instead hugging yourself with your arms. The whole position was tense and uncomfortable. Reaching across the table again, Gojo placed his hands on your shoulders and waited for the tension to dissipate.

"Our Gumi has finally become an adult and strong. He's grown a little. And Itadori is keeping an eye on him, so the little brat will be fine".

The corners of your lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but much better than the mixture of anxiety and excitement that had gripped you a moment ago.

"If I had to go all the way again, I wouldn't regret a single second if it led me to you".

"Me too", he smiled back, "me too".

Gojo gave your shoulders one last gentle squeeze before letting go. The walls creaked again and his heavy footsteps echoed. When Gojo reached the door and turned around, you were still sitting with your legs tucked under you, the light illuminating your silhouette. Reflecting off your eyes like glass.

"Itte kimasu".

You smiled and waved.

"Itte irashai".

You rested your head on your folded arms in front of you, as if you were going to fall asleep again, sitting at the table.

The handle turned under his hand, opening the door.

Itte kimasu - `I'm gone, but I'll be back.` Said when leaving for work or school. Itte irashai - `Come back soon.`

[itsythebitsyspider]

By the way, I guess I also write stuff? I get bored and write stuff as you see, but requests are open. There’s like five people on my page so I guess it’s just them requesting but nobody has to know.

Mostly drabbles and one shots. Lemme know what you want in it, characters, if X reader or X OC give me a desc of them, and length you want it. It’ll take a little bit depending how well I know the character/series but it’ll get done. I do mlm and wlw and mlw and anything in between

I’m down to do:

Angst (I’ll cry but I’ll do it)

NSFW (I’m a sick freak. I’ll do it)

Fluff (yeah.)

Keep in mind you’re asking a native Wattpadian, Apprentice Ao3 writer for a story so don’t expect some Arcane level writing. More like Voltron season seven, but thankfully not season eight, because god knows I could be a worse writer.

[my-favourite-zhent]

Writer Interview

Tagged by the lovelies @commander-krios here and @coreene here

Tagging: @dustdeepsea @thisaccountisagainstmywill @fistfuloftarenths

@littleplasticrat @captainsigge @grossestjay

Questions under the cut!

When did you start writing?

I suppose depends what counts? Where I went to school we did creative writing as early as six. The first stories I remember were Halloween stories I wrote with very unhappy endings.

Writing purely for myself maybe not till high school? I dabbled in a little fanfiction and then didn't touch it again for years and years and then suddenly BG3 and Rugan happened, smdh.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Just like Krios I enjoy horror novels, although I actually prefer horror as short stories/novellas. If you look at my spotify history you will see a lot of NoSleep podcast and Knifepoint Horror so its definitely a running theme. I could never write horror though, would spook myself too much. I did rather like the tiny horror story in one of the books in Baldurs Gate.

I also enjoy reading low fantasy (low magic, more grit, considerably plucky, ensemble casts) which I think comes across in New Tricks, but in contrast the stories I read have very minimal if any romance.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Nope, as much as there are many writers I enjoy and at times think "I wish I were that talented" I also don't wish to be a perfect copy of anyone's style because what's the point of that?

I suppose if it was something more like "as funny as so and so" or "world-building on level of such and such" then probably Pratchett, Rothfuss, Sapowski or Glen Cook?

I will literally write anywhere, a lot of my ideas pop-up while daydreaming and I have to get them down when they happen or I won't remember clearly later. So at my desk, in bed, on the couch, on the train, standing in the shoppe, literally anywhere.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Consuming other media. Books, TV, movies, podcasts, etc. Seeing a scene or circumstance and imagining how the characters I write would react under similar circumstances.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hmm hadn't considered it before but I guess so far: grey morality, class differences (this likely due to my muse being Rugan) and overcoming betrayal? I suppose the last one surprises me a little, I think I might just like the angst of it.

What is your reason for writing?

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I mentioned earlier I haven't touched personal creative writing since high school, although I did consume fanfiction on occasion. I originally returned due to a frustration at the lack of Rugan content. I wanted to consume, but at the time there wasn't much, compounded by the fact that I did not have an AO3 account at the time so of the few that existed I could only see half. So I started by writing how I thought getting that drink at the Elf Song might go.

After that I got a bit attached to the OC and was inspired by the works of @dustdeepsea to write something with a little more emotional depth. I was prone to daydreaming these sorts of things before but I never put pen to paper till now.

I'm happy any time someone enjoys my work, but I suppose the best comments are when the reader notices the characterization I've been trying to get across. It makes me feel validated that I'm able to write certain qualities without (hopefully) being too on the nose with it.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Me or my writing? Myself, hopefully reasonable and open-minded. My writing, I hope they find it funny and exciting in turns, I hope it makes people feel some sort of emotion even if negative rather than being boring. I hope the world I've tried to piece together from bits of Forgotten Realms lore feels consistent and cohesive, that the rules and stakes make sense.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Similar to Krios I think my dialogue comes across the best of all my writing, and it certainly feels the easiest to get down.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It seems to change by day and chapter. There are some things that when I write I'm quite pleased, and then come back a month later and am quite embarrassed by. Other things I didn't like originally but actually enjoy quite a bit on reread. I find myself having to just post things I'm unhappy with at times otherwise I won't get on with the story. I jokingly tell myself "we'll fix it in post!" and I have slowly begun some edits of early chapters so it's not a complete lie.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

It's mostly what I think the story needs at the time. There are times where I feel "augh we've been on this mood/theme for too long, the reader will get bored" but I try to reframe it to myself as "is the pacing good? is this scene necessary right now?" and that helps me make a decision that is hopefully a bit more objective. Sometimes we need that information for later, sometimes we don't. I have been known to go back and adjust a thing here or there if the current chapter is missing a bit of set-up and will continue to do so until the story is over. I'm treating it all as a work in progress.

Thanks for reading this far!

[dragonshoardofworks]

Danuary24_ Free Day (+ Voyage?)

I'm a bit late because I wanted to clean the sketches digitally, but @crossoverdanuary you can blame @cleanlenins and their birthday present for this idea! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

In this crossover, when the Portal Incident happened, Danny got Isekai-ed into the One Piece World early in the East Blue saga (still haven't decided exactly when).

It's also (back in Amity) a No One Knows AU, so when the Portal started working "out of nowhere", Danny seemingly disappeared in the same period (no one could actually pinpoint when, though, due to neglect).

Was Danny friends with Tucker and Sam? Did they even exist in this Amity at all? No clue, but the only thing I know for certain is that Danny was a lonely boi...

Until the Strawhats happened, that is.

Like canon, Danny needed a while to start learning how to use his powers, which were such a trial and error thing that he ended getting a slightly different "moveset", so to speak:

Basic common powers + Ghost Form_ ✓

Ice powers_ ✓ (after Drum/Alabasta)

Overshadowing_ X (technically he still could, but has no idea it's a viable option)

Weakness to the Seastone_ ✓ (it has the same properties as the Ectoranium)

Telekinesis_ ✓

Ghostly Wail_ ✓ (post Water 7, if you know what I mean) However, it leaves him so drained that in addition to going back to human form, he's also unable to move for a while (pre-time skip)

Devil Fruit Sense_ ✓ (works like Ghost Sense)

Duplication_ X

(NEW) Spiritual Extraction:

If an object has enough personality/presence, Danny can extract/create a spiritual projection (or even a ghost if the physical object is destroyed) of it. The "blob ghosts" thus created are capable of interacting (minor powers included) with the material world depending on how much of his ectoplasm he feeds them. The Going Merry is the first example of it (AKA the first pic), followed shortly after the Gomu Gomu no Mi and the Hito Hito no Mi (Luffy and Chopper's Devil Fruits). (Oddly enough, the Hana Hana no Mi and the Hono Hono no Mi, Nico Robin's and Ace's fruits respectively, can't be projected, but they dismiss it as Danny's weird biology.) Few other objects that can be affected include the Wado Ichimonji, the Sandai Kitetsu and Luffy's Hat. (Still deciding what else to add.)

More details under the cut (Lenn it will definitely be spoiler-y for you, since you're still at Water 7, so read at your own risk! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) )

As you probably have already guessed if you're following the Japanese scans, the reason Luffy's fruit can be projected is because it's a Zoan.

The reason for this is that the manga said that Zoan have their own personality (which could overwhelm the user if their will isn't strong enough) and so I interpreted that this implies also a spirit/soul within!

(Thus, in the second pic, the mini swirly sun over the sleeping Danny, Merry and Sunny is Nika, who's bewildered by the mere concept of staying still and resting. You should move and have fun!!)

Other spoilery plot things include:

Usopp never deflected at Water 7 (there was still angst about the physical death of the Merry, but having her literal spirit hanging out with and scolding you if you were spiraling helped immensely);

Franky's personality (since he's one of his creators) rubbed off Sunny, so he's prone to join him in his dances and screaming "SUUUUUPEEEERRR!";

Danny gives off passive harmless ectoplasm radiations (moreover when he's in ghost form) that the Merry feed on when she's a full ghost and so doesn't need any active recharge;

because of his high metabolism, Danny has to eat either a lot (not Luffy-levels) or food choke-packed of nutrients. They also notice that the rawer the meat, the less Danny needs to eat (since it has higher content of non-degraded ectoplasm);

As I was writing the previous point, a thought occurred to me: could this also be a Ghost Hunger AU where Danny also feeds on emotions? 🤔 Let's keep it on maybe, because with Luffy around it would be like a nuclear reactor to feed on. No, I changed mind again, it's a YES, because there's no Ambient Ectoplasm in the One Piece world (contrary to what I headcanon Amity Park), so the only way for Danny to survive at all would be to stay on Luffy's side almost constantly.

And this leads me to the timeskip separation: because of the battle with Kizaru and the Pacifistas, and consequent use of 1-2 Wails, Danny has to retreat to his Core (first time ever happened), causing panic and forcing Luffy to stash it in the ribbon of his hat due to the heat of the battle (and so be separated along with him).

Danny stays unconscious two whole arcs, until Luffy is about to die of poison on Level 5 of Impel Down. He still hasn't enough energy to manifest outside his Core, but he gives his Captain as much as he could to keep him alive until the Okamas find and save them; he continues to do so even during the Hormone Treatment, having received a boost from Bon Kure and the others' emotional cheering.

After a short rest (he fainted) made during the escape, Danny wakes up again at Luffy's Conqueror Haki shout and given how much death and despair there's in the air, he's able to manifest again and speed up the rescue.

Who lives and who dies? No clue, but given my bleeding heart, Ace Lives, but not without grave injuries for the three of them (maybe so much that Danny ends again into his Core).

I just realized that this could end with Danny adopted officially into the ASL (Luffy had already started the process)... Our boy Danny is so Adoptable™ LMAO

Sabo regains his memories at the news of the close call and hijacks any mode of transportation to reach the trio. Two years timeskip happen with quartet bonding and training, then into the New World We Go!

Nothing else comes to mind at the moment, but I guess that I already said enough, don't I? (≧∇≦)

[opreaadriann]

Can you rank the ROs angst levels 👀

For research purposes, how would the ROs react if someone was flirting with the MC during crush / romance stages?

Well, I'm sad (or happy?) to announce that, on a scale from 1 to 10, almost all of them are close to 10 on the angst scale. I guess the exceptions could be Michael, Connor, and Vivian, who I'd put somewhere at 6. But yeah, they all have... major problems, and it's your job to discover them.

Depends on previous conversations. If they think you're a thing, and they see someone flirting publicly with you, they will not stand by and watch (depending on their personality). There are characters that will have more sensible situations and won't really want to make public your situationship/budding romance (Michael and Vivian who are dating each other, for example), so they will likely talk to you about it in private. One minor revenge on a character will be to actually romance their crush in front of them, so yeah.

[gurugirl]

if someone is looking for a good classic romance which one of your fics do you recommend?

This is an interesting ask! It's difficult to say which I recommend based on it being a classic romance. And because I'm quite literal when I'm thinking about this I'll just mention right off that the basic elements to any "classic" romance are in most of my series (long or short) as well as in my longer one-shots.

Examples from my masterlist are (not linking bc it's too much - just peruse!):

ALL of my long and short series

bfd!harry

ex bf dad!harry

I Guess You're All Mine

The Long Weekend

Mixed Signals

Tell Me You Hate Me

The Handyman (tho we have very little angst/push & pull in this one - it's a soft romance)

Sex Tutor

Baby Daddy

^ And that's just on Tumblr. I have more on Patreon.

Please forgive me for the following. I got wordy about the romance genre. Also, this is my very literal brain answering you. Ignore if you like.

A classic romance usually contains the following elements (this is what I like to use - obviously this is a basic structure but you can bet most romance will include this):

(eventual) Lovers meeting (the meet-cute) - this can be a whole section or just the intro to the story - are they enemies at first, is their attraction forbidden, how did they meet, what steps got them to know one another, were they childhood friends, are they current best friends (so many options)

some kind of denial or push and pull (maybe he or she thinks the other couldn't possibly be attracted to them or even something bigger and deeper that keeps them apart at first - like he's not single or she's a company rival, or they live in different countries - lots of options here)

a "thing" that makes them keep coming back together while still being cautious about the relationship (they work together, their kids go to the same school, they wind up at a party together and are drawn to one another, etc.)

then we get to the relationship exploration part - where there are difficulties to overcome as they get to know one another on a deeper level, setting the groundwork for a more stable relationship later (depending on the level of friction you want this can be drawn out a bit - including a whole 2-steps forward + 3-steps back scenario - OR not) - don't forget to include massive tension

sometimes it's fun to throw in some elements that keep the lovers apart - something that really makes them see how much they love the other person and how they want to be together - but this is the angsty part with tons of tension if you want to include angst - which most romance has

then they come back together - an outside force may bring them together or one of them does something to get the other one's attention - here you can have them falling in love or maybe it happened earlier on - but they'll be in love and wanting to be together by now

you can add another falling out or some kind of sacrifice that needs to be made if you like - something to just infuriate the reader or engage them further (LOL) - but definitely have them making up again and accomplishing some kind of goal that you might have set for them at the beginning to make the extra angst worth it (the extra angst is not necessary but it's in a lot of romance where there's like one last fallout - or something that keeps them apart before realizing they can't live w/o the other)

and of course, the resolution and the Happily Ever After!

xoxo

[eldritch-spouse]

OH THE SWEET SWEET TASTE OF ANGST 👌🏻

Since I adore torturing your ocs, guess it’s Adelo’s turn now... it’s only fair to even out the heartache

(I still really lov- I MEAN totally only like like your characters Pinnie. Keep up the amazing work, don’t forget to drink water, and take breaks)

It’d been a year since Adrul lost his beloved. Adelo tried - He tried so hard to be there for his brother, if only to let Adrul know that he wasn’t alone, but Adelo couldn’t help ease the pain; Instead watching his younger sibling become a hollow spiteful king. 

In the time since the murder, the angel had met someone. Not some kiss-up that wanted power or a faceless one night stand. They were the light of his life, a comfort in the dark, his last ray of hope in this unforgiving world.

...

It happened while the prince was away conversing with Mother Miara about a surprise gift for his hummingbird. A battered, half-hysterical celestial had literally crashed into Mother’s sanctuary to deliver the news. 

Demons, rouge angels, or monsters - it didn’t matter. They’d taken what was his.

.  .  .

From afar it appeared like they were sleeping, if not for the blood soaked clothe above their chest and the dried crimson tears ruining the illusion.

As Adelo held the cooling form of his love the angel wondered what would become of him now that his light was gone...

It appears a rather determined group is going after the humans bonded to the princes. Admin, Belo, Miara, Krulu, and Adrul’s reactions to the unfortunate news?

Belo had previously comforted Adrul and distracted his son from what happened, but this might get the celestial to suggest something be done.

Does Krulu begin to worry for Admin’s safety? Is this possibly the work of a Higher that discovered his existence? 

Miara has now witnessed her Shard’s sons become cruel imitations of their former selves - Does Miara begin to worry for her own Charm too? 

*cough  hypothetically if one were to make a Siadar what characteristics do they have? Specifically the caste in charge of ‘serious cleanups’ - Not that I’m thinking of making one.... if it’s okay? *cough

[Please check the pinned post to know if you want to make a character or not. Visit some masterlists to decipher key traits of siadar. "Serious cleanups" can belong to all casts depending on what you mean. If it involves violence of any kind you're more than likely dealing with a Protector. But there's nothing to say a thoroughly pissed creator couldn't do such.]

[I don't have as much steam for this one, gomen. Again, I stress that these scenarios are very unrealistic.]

Adelo's reaction is nowhere near as calm as you'd guess.

Unlike his brother, he's exploding immediately. He's violently, uncontrollably exploding towards anyone and everyone. So much so that Miara has to transport the two of them immediately away, because he killed two angels with his first scream and mortally wounded another three with the swipe of his expanding wings. Too much damage... Even after he's stopped moving and gone into a paralyzed, almost disassociative state, Miara knows he hasn't calmed down. And knowing Adelo's nature, he won't be calming down anytime soon.

Adelo loses his mind. It's not just violence that he uses to drown his sorrows, but levels of deep illusions that let everyone know he's absolutely insane as he speaks out loud amidst his fantasies of nothing having gone wrong. He doesn't touch your burial grounds, but neither does anyone else. In fact, Adelo starts shaking erratically if he gets too close, because he can't exactly pretend you're alive and "back home", when he's looking at your thomb.

It absolutely does matter who did this, because it will dictate the reactions of his parents, brother and others.

Nevertheless, fear is the last thing someone like Krulu or Miara can feel. Their chosen ones are untouchable.

[peachybeins]

Pretty Dogs by Riley Nash M/M (Trans M/Cis M)

Alright now we're cooking...

Thoughts: Was overall pretty good great even but there were some bits that soured my enjoyment.

Second in a series of contemporary BDSM romances with a focus on living in poverty and on the edges of society. Unlike Stripped, I've actually read the previous instalment(s) in this series. So I do have a better insight to all the characters and their whole thing. This is my preferred type of contemporary romance; where there's a bit of grit and realism where the characters problems go beyond a mean ex. It's not romantic suspense or "dark romance" but the characters are going through real shit while getting their loving romances too. It's not like I'm a hater of cozy/soft/no-low angst contemporary romances, just some grit is nice occasionally.

The friends-to-lovers was cute, the over possessiveness of the cis male LI/MC was...idk, was just there for me. It wasn't crazy alpha-hole toxic levels but it was slightly(majorly?) unhealthy co-dependency, which I guess makes sense for the characters and their situation. But it did make me go "calm down ngga nobody taking him from you 😭". However I wanted to knock their heads together with how oblivious the characters were prior to getting together. There was even the occasional lack of/miscommunication and argh imma beat they asses! I can forgive them for being slightly maladjusted 20 something year olds and I am not looking for Therapy speak unrealistic introspection and they did get there in the end. And no spoilers but there's something Beck does for Dallas that was sooo sweet and beautiful (even it did lead to the dreaded miscommunication)

I loved seeing the guys' friendship/found family, these dudes are bros for life and it was great seeing the other guys be so supportive and affirming of Dallas and his trans Identity. Which duh they're the MCs in a romance novel so they won't be bigots obviously, but putting together money to buy your trans bro a packer for Christmas or even helping him with his T shots goes beyond the basic trans accepting cis friend group.

Good news: First book in this review series with a trans man/masc of colour MC yippee! But I feel conflicted as Dallas was described and written comparatively more feminine/less masculine than the white cis male characters. And there is a history/trope of Asian men (East & South) being emasculated and feminised compared to white western men. It's not egregious but I'm particularly sensitive to these depictions and it's not like slightly femme twinky queer South Asian men don't exist IRL but eh. Also I "read" this in audiobook format, I appreciate the casting of a (white)transmasculine VA for Dallas' POV...I would've liked it even more if it was a transmasc South Asian VA but I understand those types of performers are in short supply so I won't hold it against the book/author.

All my love to Anjali Santra, Dallas' mother, she was such a great affirming mother and it was awful that she was trapped in an abusive relationship with a piece of shit who kicked out her son. Anyone who victim blames Ms Santra for "letting" Dallas be kicked out will die and go to hell IDC IDC! Also also it was nice to see the POC parent NOT be depicted as homophobic/transphobic and it's the white parental figure who is. Like I'm so tired of "Ethnic parent/family = queerphobic" lmao.

Asides the POC rep it was so refreshing to read about a bottom dysphoric trans man, where he very much desires bottom surgery and actively dislikes his natal parts but also being a limbo where due to his financial situation can never get it. He didn't want his front hole touched or acknowledged at all during sex so he was an anal only bottom. He even has a bit of a dysphoria breakdown during an intimate scene, which was good to see. Most depictions of trans sex is a bit of an idealised fantasy where any discomfort or dysphoria disappears when the clothes come off but I think it's important to depict the reality of a lot of trans peeps when it comes to sex. This book also introduced me to me the idea that there are some transmascs that can only cum/orgasm from vibrations so that's pretty cool.

Beck's gang thing confused me tbh. It was great that the author highlighted how young boys can be groomed into gang activities (not just with Beck but another side character) but I still don't know what he actually did in the gang? And why he was so attached to it.

Regarding the BDSM/Kink aspects, Primal/predator/prey kink and CNC stuff I'm neutral on, it was hot sure but not really my thing. To be honest the I prefer the kinks and dynamic of the couple from the first book.

Really the big things that soured me was the weird bits were in the cis MC/LIs POV chapters the trans guy was described as "tiny", "pretty" , "delicate" and feminine compared to the cis guy/s which icked me out. Also how Dallas(trans man) was called "boy" despite being 22 years old??? And worse other adult cis male characters that was 1-2 years younger than him were called "man" just weird and it ticked me off. And tbh there was no reason for the audience to know that a character started masturbating at NINE YEARS OLD, cuz that's crazy man! it was like one line but still I did NOT need that image in my head!

Representation: Dallas-Indian(as in South Asian ) mlm (might be pansexual) trans man MC, Beck-white cis gay man MC, white cis gay men side characters, 12 year old white trans boy side character(Calvin my baby🥺) , queer trans man author.

Sexual Content & Roles: Strict-ish; (occasional vers)Top cis man & (occasional vers)bottom trans man, multiple penetrative(anal) sex scenes, Dallas tops in one and bottoms in the others, anal sex, anal fingering, size difference, Oral, handjob, slight cumplay, Sextoys (vibrator, dildo), Primal predator/prey play, slight cnc, solo masturbation

Terms Used: Cock, dick, hole/ass, the other hole

TW: Transphobia (not from love interest or MC's friends), homophobia, misgendering, homelessness and poverty, gang activity/gang violence, dysphoria, mention of a character masturbating at 9 years old, references to forced/survival Prostitution.

Rating: 8.5/10 🌟 Great but not GOATed status.