#ive been meaning to finish several things but ive just been SO fucking busy at work its annoying me a lil

[taiyami]

The day I'm no longer terrified to ask for self ship commissions is the day you'll all finally block me. You'll be free.

[chuuyasheaven]

RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c

to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee

basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.

So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c

cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara

Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.

"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.

With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.

When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.

That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?

"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.

"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.

"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.

Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.

You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.

Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.

"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.

It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.

If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.

"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"

@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp

Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up

[honeekyuu]

hey this is the shy anon from the other day that read through your ao3 and i just wanted to stop in and say to take your time and don’t let these anons get to you. i know you’ve been writing on your ao3 for a while now but your tumblr is literally brand new and i’m honestly at a loss for words that you’re already getting rude anons and people pressuring you to post more.

you seem like a really busy gal and i’d hate for demands like that to burn you out. you’re doing amazing and don’t let anybody be an asshole to you. post what you want when you want/can, i’ve seen far too many people give up on fandom because they feel like they have to constantly churn out content to the detriment of their creativity and passion. you’re so talented and based on the frequency with which you’ve been writing in the last few months it seems like you have a fire in your soul for haikyuu. i hate seeing it taken for granted and i just wanted to let you know you have support in doing whatever the fuck it is you want.

(feel no obligation to reply to this, just wanted to offer some support after seeing such atrocious fandom etiquette literal days into the life of this blog)

wow, i really dont know what to say--

i saw this as soon as you sent it in, but i was honestly super shocked that id gotten it, so ive just been sitting here thinking ab it.

it means probably more than you realize that you sent something so kind. i've been writing for a long long time now (both here on a different blog and on ao3), and it's true that i am very busy, because unfortunately being a phd student and running experiments and spending all my time running back and forth between my advisors and conferences and the lab means i have a schedule thats not really a schedule, and i can never really say when or what im going to be inspired enough to write, enough that i can pull myself out of daily burnout. i experience writing droughts often, sometimes lasting up to a year before i feel the urge to sit down with a doc again. and i have a LOT of half-written fics that have never seen the light of day, which i plan to get back to eventually but which, in reality, may never get finished.

ive gotten so much love and support over the years, and it's brought me back to writing every time. i love haikyuu with my soul, and i think about my fics almost every day because i feel a burning need to write them. if not for anyone else, then just for me.

but this blog is brand new, so, even though that anon i received definitely tops the list of unfriendly comments ive gotten over the many years of writing, i wanted to be as kind and accommodating as possible. because i dont want people to think im ungrateful and will ignore criticism, because no one likes those kinds of writers. but i am also a person, and writing is hard, so i think i will continue to do things my way.

my writing style is this, for anyone who'd like to know: i am erratic, and i dont have an upload schedule, because i cant realistically manage one. i have periods of inactivity, because life is hard, and i have periods of hyperactivity, because i love this fandom and the way that haikyuu makes me feel in a life that's full of terrible feelings. this may annoy some people, and i can understand that. but i cant force myself to write if im not in a place to write, and i cant force myself to stick to one fic at a time, because then it'll be clear that it's been forced.

im extremely annoying and unhinged and feral and i will talk about several different fics and smaus and text threads and headcanons all within the same breath. but i will always write what i love, so if you'd like to see work that is well-loved, feel free to stick around.

thank you very much to everyone whos been so kind in my inbox tonight, and i hope to see you all tomorrow <3

[strawberryspeachy]

I see my students twice a week if there aren’t class cancelations (there always are)

Ive felt like a real teacher a a few months now, knowing my students, them treating me like another teacher

But these past couple weeks have been real. Not being able to move an inch without my name being called or being stopped with questions. Having to making several students wait while i finish with one. The same student walking up to me every 2 minutes to ask another question about the same paper

I love it 🥺 it got this way last year and with a few students the year before.

Cause i like never see them and it takes so long to get to this point.

I mean ive never gotten to being the person theyre waiting for in the room until now.

But now the school years almost over and once again i have to say bye

And im being replaced in favor of the asshole dude who makes me dead work.

Love my students.

Hate the dude. And he wont go away. No matter how early i got to class or how late i stay he keeps going to and from class with me

He hates high schoolers. He hates making corrections. He hates when theyre loud and childlike. He hates everything about the job except the control and listening to himself talk. Hes bad at it too

He was rude and arrogant to the students and teachers. Only spoke in japanese in englishhh class. STILL isn’t lenient about students doing makeup work or not doing busy work just for the sake of it. Never congratulated students when they did things right. Made fun of them to their faces. Hes still entirely disorganized and only started trying to learn the students names and faces after realizing i knew so many

He driven away several other female teachers, fought with all the japanese teachers, skimps on his work, always is taking days off and half days, an i even watching him have an argument with the vice principal in the hallway

But theyre gonna keep him.

Not me. I didnt want to stay. But here i am again up the river without a fucking paddle.

And im just sad because i like my students again. Feel like ive done my job well and get much more obvious positive responses from the students.

Theres 3/9 class that listen to the dude more than me and

1 is more so just a small loud group of girls

2 yea. They like him better whatever

3 dont seem to rlly like either of us… or any teacher for the matter

Im satisfied with 6/9 classes being great and 3 of them very very very obviously respond better to me and even have complained to me about him and made fun of him

Yea i think its funny cause i dont like him and its so fucking hard working with him

My arguments with him have been the same that other have had but because im headstrong it actually drilled its way into his brain

Im mad that i was there training to not be fucking shit at his job and i get fucked over

I wouldn’t have been these student’s teacher next year anyway… but it still sucks

I watched so many of them improve all year and while I’m personally glad that i know i pushed that its hard not to be mad that i don’t get the credit for it

[bakidose]

— TOKYO REV ## RANDOM HCS

alternate title: tr men and random headcanons i have abt some of them

characters included: ran haitani / sanzu haruchiyo / hanma shuji / manjiro sano / baji keisuke / takemichi hanagaki

warnings: a bit suggestive / mostly sfw tho / crack cocaine for sanzu / humour / gn! reader / ooc maybe?? idk thats up to u to decide lol

a/n: these were the only characters i could think of hcs for off the top of my head shhh. n e ways weewoo my first official contribution to the tr fandom, enjoy :p

% SHUJI HANMA %

he's the type to fake bang you.

doesn't matter where you are, who you're with or what you're doing– the moment he sees you bent down, hes getting all up behind you and thrusting full force 💀

you've had to start kneeling and squatting down to reach for things instead after one incident. living in fear everyday that hanma may one day pull a bluff on your poor, vulnerable ass right in front of your friends and family 😟

"shuji PLEASE im trying to take this dish out of the oven"

"hm? sorry~. i cant help myself when you're all bent down like that just for me ♡ "

you burned your fingers and almost dropped your lasagna all over the floor

all he did in apology was pat your ass and said "it looks good babe 😘"

you still dont know whether he was talking about your ass– or the lasagna

probably both.

% RAN HAITANI %

he makes deez nuts jokes along with his brother rindou LMAO

thinks they're sooo fuckin funny. oh? your legs are broken? lol deez nuts are next 🤣

and whats worse is that rin backs him up too with a shit eating grin, both giggling like lil kids who just made a joke about poo

has never actually fallen for it whenever someone tries though

and even if it were to happen, you wouldnt know.

given the way he just stands there like 🕺 right after he finishes you off with his baton for humiliating him like that in broad daylight

rin: "🙄 cant believe you fell"

ran: "i didnt fa-"

rin: "for deez nuts."

ran: 😃

not only did he fall for deez nuts twice on that day, but he smacked a hoe with his baton twice too

hurt his ego knowing rindou pulled it on him without missing a beat

if you ever asked, it never happened <3

% SANZU %

ACTUALLY served crack before he served his country.

has definitely snorted cocaine off your ass crack to make things more exciting

though one time, you caught him snorting sugar off the kitchen counter. having temporarily taken away his coke stash after he kept waking up next to you high as hell

a credit card, 10,000¥ bill and nose all lined up to take another hit

"what are you doing?? you know you cant-"

"its not."

"huh? the hell you mean its 'not' 🤨"

"its sugar, princess. here~ try it"

"no thanks-"

told you to shut up as he scooped some up with his finger n stuck them in your mouth anyway

it was sugar.

he was snorting glucose up his nostrils.

"WHAT THE FUCK 😃."

you still think he mightve done it just to spite you since youre so worried about his health

you gave him back his shit after that

so it was either him high off the rocks or...yeah <3 he was definitely in a silly goofy mood that day

manz is actually deranged 🚹 middle child behavior if ive ever seen it

% BAJI KEISUKE %

never make a 'your mom' joke at this guy.

ever.

the first n last time some sleezy highschool kid tried to do it to a pre-k baji, they limped outta there the next day looking like they got mauled by several street cats

just never- dont. dont even utter a word about his mom unless youve been feeling alive'nt recently

you can talk smack about baji but never about his momma :<

ranted to peke j about it that night as he was falling asleep

"and i pummeled that asshole! right in his ugly ass mug 😤"

peke j: mrow

"no one!... can talk shit about my mom like that...*snores*"

peke j: mrow

% MIKEY %

still orders the McDonald's happy meal even as an adult

does NOT eat the apple slices :<

he's also another person who enjoys pulling deez nuts jokes on unsuspecting victims...or at least used to ://

*is busy munching on dorayaki*

"hey you know suna?"

"whos that? 😐"

"suna or later deez nuts gonna be in ya' mouth"

k.o'ed on sight. absolutely hates deez nuts jokes now after he fell for one.

draken laughs everytime he recalls it, and mikey refuses to answer any random questions since then

% TAKEMICHI HANAGAKI %

asked chifuyu one time after he did the devils tango with hina on their wedding night

if it was gay to think of another man during it.

"hey so i was wondering... is it gay to think of mikey while i was having sex with hina?"

?????

"huhhh 😕 takemitchy, man i– i mean..bros before hoes right? 😄"

"yeah!! youre right!"

both sat there in silence after

then hakkai walked in, holding his phone that still had mitsuya's now updated side profile picture as his lockscreen

takemichi cried that night 👍🏼

taglist: @katsukichu

© bakidose 2021 — all rights reserved. do not modify, claim, distribute, or steal my work.

[bitchassbucky]

.png

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning/s: toxic relationship dynamics, dark!bucky x dark!reader, stalking, coercion and lying, manipulative tendencies, injuries and blood mention, food was mentioned for a bit

A/N: WE ARE GETTING THERE, BABES WHEW OKAY

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

A month had passed since your not-date date had happened. You tried to forget the rest of the day, only focusing on how he looked and talked to you that day. How he smiled, trying to play off the ‘cool guy’ narrative.

You suddenly grew cold, noticing how your conversations became sparse—dry in between. Fewer texts and long waits. It made you nervous, sad, and a little bit annoyed. You barely see him around the office too—has Bucky been avoiding you?

His office is a bit out of the way for you to accidentally stumble in, anyway; the days you’re in the office were unsynchronized. Would it count as a punishable offense if you mess up with your company-approved laptop?

Saying you missed Bucky is an understatement: the bottle of cologne that smells like him sits empty on your dresser. The pictures you took of him taped loosely on your corkboard. Bits and pieces of papers he gave you tacked on it haphazardly.

Can someone die from loneliness?

Is this what being in love feels like?

Suffocating, consuming, your chest feels heavy, and your stomach is in knots.

—

Another month, another throng of employees needing new passwords. There are literal posters around the floor reminding everyone to use a password manager. Bucky can’t believe that he has to work with idiots around him. When he took up computer science as a major in college, he imagined himself hacking into… government intel, or something. Not looking after dimwits that don't know how to install an update.

His text messages are red with notifications—bank updates, deliveries, and you.

For some reason, Bucky can’t bring himself up to return your messages. Hi’s, hey’s, and how are you’s littered his text chain. Is he a bad person for not replying back? He can always just make up an excuse, right?

When you told him that you liked him, kissed him like you meant it, his fondness dispersed into thin air. The easy is never worthy and the worthy is never easy, as his father told him.

A ding from his phone brought him forth, another text from you: coming up right now, can we talk?

Now, he can’t come up with an excuse.

—

Bucky heard you before you come in, knocking on his door like the first time you met.

He clears his throat, calling out a come in! before rolling back from his cluttered desk. Tickets were few and far in between, he knows he can spare you at least 20 minutes but he just doesn’t want to.

“Hey,” you said, your head poking into his office. You weren’t entirely sure why you came up here in the first place, you really, really, really just wanted to see him again.

Bucky chuckles, pulling the door open for you. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

You breathe out a little, shaking the feeling sinking deep inside your stomach, “yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” Stepping into his office, you eye his desk. He’s been busy. Papers and files are piling up on the left side of his desk, half of his setup is covered with those post-it notes. Several mugs littered his small space.

Huh, “Sorry, I can come back some other time.”

Turning on your heel, you pivot a little to grab the door when Bucky grabs your upper arm, “don’t go—”

He realizes the implications if someone were to see the two of you and so he lets go, much to your discomfort. You face him, either way, you’re sure he’s not gonna let you go that easily.

“Sorry, it’s just- I missed you.”

And there it was. I missed you.

He was thinking about you.

He was thinking about you.

He was thinking about you.

He was thinking about you.

He was thinking about you.

“I was just gonna drop off some files… But,” you rake your brain for a coherent train of thought, “I missed you too.”

A smile of relief overcomes Bucky’s features, his eyes crinkling just the way you like. His steely blue eyes hidden beneath his lashes.

“I have uh, a thing later… Dinner with friends—do you wanna come?” You make a show of peering over his shoulder and onto his desk, “unless you’re busy?”

“I’d love to come.” He says, tucking his pointer finger underneath your chin, flicking it forward so you’d look at him, “what time is it?”

“Come by around seven. I’ll text you my address.”

Bucky doesn’t need your address. He already came a dozen times by your building, trying to build up the nerve to knock on your door and kiss you silly. Like in those movies you watch late at night.

But he’s conflicted, no?

Are you really as good as they come?

—

At six-thirty, you already sent the text: take the east street, beige apartment block. I’m on the third floor, second door to your right. :)

At six-fifty five, Bucky’s already there, his car idling on the sidewalk. He’s… nervous. Why is he nervous? It’s just dinner. A small get-together with friends. Speaking of friends, he didn’t see any unfamiliar cars parked on the block. Maybe it’s not work friends?

Letting out a sigh, Bucky fetches the small bouquet of flowers and wine he brought, just in case. He doesn’t wanna be the only one showing up empty-handed.

On the dot, Bucky knocks on your door. He plasters on his best smile as you open the way, revealing yourself.

God, you look gorgeous. Why did he stop hanging out with you in the first place?

Oh, right.

“Aw, flowers and wine? You’re too sweet!” You chirp out, stepping out of the way to let him into your apartment. Taking the gifts from his hands, you put them away while Bucky busies himself checking out your place.

It’s weird seeing your place in real life. Bucky noted the hint of lavender in the air, coupled with a smidge of coffee brewing. He’s so used to seeing parts of it but not everything-everything. He careens his neck to look down the hallway, catching a glimpse of your bedroom.

“If you’re lucky, you can see it tonight.” A peal of boisterous laughter comes out of you, lightly kicking his foot with yours, “I’m kidding. It’s off-limits for visitors, sorry.”

“Right…” Bucky looks around, shifting his weight from the balls of his feet up to his toes. “Am I too early? I can help you set the table.” The table is halfway finished and you’re stirring in cheese into a sauce. Roux, perhaps.

“No, it’s okay…” You trail off, lowering the heat before facing Bucky, “I lied.”

“What?”

“There’s no dinner—I mean, there is. Just not with friends.” You bite your lip, looking down on your shoes before tearing your gaze away from the floor to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“You lied? Why- why would you lie about that?” Annoyance and frustration all seep out near the surface. His jaw ticking as he gritted his teeth.

“Are you mad?”

“Are you mad?” Bucky asks back in a mocking tone, bringing his fist down the dinner, “you—you’re crazy. I knew it, I knew you’re crazy. Lying about dinner and what, trying to get me alone? Jesus, what--” He lets out a mirthless laugh, the one that sends chills down your spine.

You stood there, frozen at your spot. You’re hurt. He called you crazy. He called you crazy when he’s the one who spied on you for weeks on end.

When he’s the one who watches you at night.

When he’s the one who left those notes on your desk.

The one who sent those texts and left calls and voicemails.

“Fuck you.” Your words rang empty as Bucky walked out of the kitchen in long strides. The dinner long forgotten.

You calmly watch him turn the doorknob open, failing when the adjacent locks prevent him from opening the door. Two deadbolts and a chain lock. Never would you have thought that the threat would be coming inside your home.

“I’d think twice before leaving without dinner.”

—

Bucky stirs awake. The sound of cutlery on plates grating on his nerves. His head is throbbing. His right temple feels tight and tender, there’s something hard and crusty covering the right side of his face. He can suddenly feel the weight of his left arm, leaning over to compensate for the sudden pain.

He wasn’t aware that he had closed his eyes; the lights suddenly glaringly bright.

Right, the dinner.

The dinner?

Wasn’t he supposed to—

“Thank fuck. I thought you were dead.”

God, he hopes he is.

[bmpmp3]

JUST finished heishi’s route in norn9 hold on i wanna talk about whatever i just witnessed (also might have spoilers for kakeru and senri since those are the other two ive finished) (also also spoilers for amnesia memories because i always wanna talk about amnesia memories)

SO LIKE ive been playing norn9 in the slowest way humanly possible (started in 2017 and im three routes down half a decade later LOL not a bad game tho!! the soundtrack is fantastic and the comedy writing is really great even if the plot stuff so far feels a little disjointed, its just a 9 love interest game is a little overwhelming hfjdksjsfkdls) and like i have a tendency to take several month long breaks between routes as well as whatever my brain decides is a natural stopping point and last time i played heishi’s route was like. some time last year. i was unmedicated at the time so i dont remember where exactly but it was like JUST before his first attempt at a confession on the top floor/roof thing of the orb they live on, and like

i think ive mentioned before how while ive heard that Toma’s behaviour is explained in the amnesia fandiscs as his mild possessiveness being amplified by time loop wackiness, i still choose to believe he’s just Like That because i think its hilarious to add just one more strange incongruous thing to a simultaneous grounded and out there game like amnesia (like how mathematicians in this universe seem to wear a lot of belts????????). well ive decided in my head to view heishi’s route as the opposite HJFJDhjlkfdssjflkd

like RIGHT after he got his confession wiped from his memory by nanami to stop ron from shooting him, he got like WACKY like it felt like i was playing a different route with a different guy and i dunno about the fandiscs yet but in game its explained as heishi losing control over the emotions he’s been suppressing because he’s in love and stressed out but I CHOOSE to believe that the mind wipes scrambled his brain because i like. the speculative fiction implications of that JKDLSDJs

girl his bad end. girl oh my god. girl what WAS that like seriously i havent been this caught off guard by otome game love interest since I first started playing them and got Toma’d, like GIRL oh my god

the other bad ends i played werent quite this level like kakeru’s had him getting wacky cause of his mind control earring which was nuts and i loved it but it like. was foreshadowed. and i dont remember senri’s bad ending at all (as forementioned i was unmedicated while finishing it so i dont remember everything orz i do remember natsuhiko being like ‘jesus christ is that a fucking gremlin” every time he saw him tho which was hilarious) but i cant imagine it was that nuts, but girl. oh my god

everyone always talks about ron (haven’t gotten to him yet but like. looking at him in other routes i can guess how he’s gonna be. which is kind of a shame and why i dont really care for the yandere routes being obvious LOL like okay the sketchy amoral guy is sketchy and amoral. who coulda guess. im being mean sorry i think i just love wild shit happening in otome games, i just think itd be really funny if instead of being fucked up, after all his behaviour in other routes, ron was just like a normal dude in his own. keep my on my toes otome games) but i hadnt heard a LICK about heishi. actually maybe thats why it worked so well... i was so prepared for whatever’s gonna go on with ron that i let my guard down with heishi fsjkldkfjsd

gonna be like 28-53 business days until i play another route but im gonna do akito next, hope he’s normal, koharu had a reasonable time with kakeru and a great time with senri yet nanami can’t seem to catch a break orz praying for her

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 6

Neil x Reader

Chapter 6: You’re mine

(see chapter  5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: a conclusion.

warnings: alcohol mention, language and other explicit things, 18+

author’s note: When @vaneilla​ first mentioned she had an idea for a story, I thought it was a good opportunity to challenge myself with writing something new. I had no idea how attached I was going to get to these two over the course of the last weeks. 

But this is it. Not the final story, but the finale of this story.

Couldn’t have finished it without my friends, putting up with me and my bullshit at the craziest hours, so ladies - thank you, from the bottom of my heart. 

And thank YOU, for your support. For staying until the very end.

As for the song - you have to wait til you finish reading. 

Anyway, enjoy! Can’t wait to see what you think, so let me know, please?

------

Things between you and Neil were… civilized, so to speak. Because of your recent promotion, you really were stuck with him. Training, missions, planning, and back again.

Two of those things were not a problem, the worst part of it all was training together, especially those bloody sparring sessions.

None of you could hide behind tactical gear, a stack of documents, or a laptop. Or anything even remotely resembling a barrier of some sort, making it easier to pretend that nothing had happened. Ever. Having that, both of you were the embodiment of professionalism, focused on a shared goal, one could even say that the mutual respect was visible in your actions. But as soon as you collided with each other in combat, you found yourselves slipping into old patterns almost instantly--

“Why don’t you hit me like you mean it?”

“Oh blondie, I really don’t feel like bulletproofing those next variations all by myself.”

“Aren’t you cute.”

--at least up to the point, and that point usually being one of you getting pinned to the mat. That look in his eyes, not helping in the slightest. The pure need overriding every other thought. Your bodies ready to respond in complete disregard of any sense. And then, every time without fail, the memory of a searing embarrassment snapped you out of the moment, casting a bitter shade over the rest of the time you had to be in such close proximity to each other.

Your back hit the mat with a loud thud again.

“Know what, your lack of focus is almost insulting, mate.”

“Fuck off,” you hissed, sitting up and glaring at Ives. “Remind me again, why am I even training with you today?”

“Thought we could catch up.”

You scoffed, accepting a hand extended in your direction.

“Couldn’t we do that over a pint or something?”

He shrugged lightly. “Would have to stop avoiding everyone first,” he said, his voice casually mocking, but you knew him well enough to know what that look in his eyes meant. He was concerned.

You put your guard up.

“I’ve been busy.”

That wasn’t a lie. Technically. And if you didn’t have enough on your plate to keep your mind occupied – because you could only spend so much time at the shooting range – you always found a way to make yourself busy. That’s exactly how you survived the last couple of days - you dived into your team’s archived reports, analyzing old operations and figuring out ways to improve and incorporate particularly interesting tactics into the next planning sessions. Because, of course, the initial draft from that evening was just plan A, and now you needed several backup ones, just in case anything went sideways. Murphy never sleeps, so why should you, right?

“Uh-huh,” Ives sent you a doubtful smile. “Fucking it out stopped working?” he teased and threw a punch aimed at your head.

The audacity of the question was almost enough to stop you in your tracks, but you ducked, avoiding his flying fist just barely. Still, it felt as if the hit landed straight at your chest.

“What gave you that idea?” you huffed as you started circling him slowly.

Your friend raised a brow, studying you carefully. “A wild guess, but your reaction is rather telling.” He blocked your hook to his chin. “But honestly? The lack of your usual bullshit in the comms.”

Damn it.

It had been a while since you trained with Ives, Now that you finally focused on what was going on, you realized that his hand-to-hand combat style was so different from what you’d gotten used to over the last weeks of training - he was more about strength and endurance than speed and precision, and you needed to adjust your tactics accordingly.

“You need to work smarter, not harder.”

Wiping sweat from your forehead, you tried to make your tone as nonchalant as possible.

“Maybe we’ve grown as people,” you said, shifting your balance back and forth, waiting for an opening.

An amused snort was enough of a comment.

“Or someone’s caught feelings,” he pondered, charging at you.

You laughed dryly, jumping out of his way.

“Like you’d be the one to know.”

The kick you sent after him reached its destination and Ives grunted before turning your way, perplexed.

“Oi, the fuck was that supposed to mean?”

A closed chapter.

“Nothing,” you shrugged. His next attack was sloppy and your eyes flared up, spotting the perfect opportunity. Quick sidestep and grab. Precisely applied pressure. Well-practiced twist. Using Ives’ own weight and momentum, you sent him to the ground with ease.

A smug grin crept on your face at the sound of him turning the air blue.

“You’ve had enough?”

Ives gave you a murderous glare, trying to catch his breath.

“Stop gloating and give me a hand.”

Next thing you knew, you were lying next to him on the mat, wondering how you could fall for the oldest trick of his. Without changing your position, you punched him in the arm. He laughed in response and you shook your head, stifling a chuckle.

With the corner of your eye, you caught his worried glance.

“You know you can always talk to me, right?”

“I appreciate it, but--...” you hesitated and sighed. The offer meant a lot to you, but you didn’t really feel like talking.

Ives sent you a knowing smile.

“But you’d rather just grab that beer and brood in silence, eh?”

“I don’t brood,” you faked an offended tone and got up on your knees, reaching out your hand again.

“Since when?” Ives smirked and accepted your help, only for you to let him fall on his ass in the next second.

Damn, you really missed this, you realized later on, closing your locker. In your line of work, it was almost impossible to cultivate relationships with civilians, so the ones you made with your teammates were essentially the only friendships in your life. And with everything that was going on over the past few weeks, having someone like Ives around felt like a true blessing.

You exhaled slowly. It was supposed to be your first free evening in a long time, as your boss asked Neil to accompany him to some work-related event. You could use that time off to recharge - order some comfort food, watch something from your ever-growing list of movies you had to catch up on, or simply have some you time...

You looked around to check if you hadn’t forgotten anything, and then your gaze landed on that certain spot and--

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

All of the sudden, the thought of going back to a dark and empty apartment was unbearable. You grabbed your bag and rushed outside.

“Ives…?” you called out, stopping at the top of the stairs. As he turned around and looked up, you shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “That beer offer still stands?”

“You know it.” His eyes warmed up as you made your way to him. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, as you walked down the street together.

You looped your arm around his waist in return and sighed quietly, easing into the embrace.

-------------

Neil tossed a clipboard across the table and rubbed his face.

“We’ll run out of letters soon.”

You glanced at him from your spot on the windowsill.

“Wanna bet some idiot is gonna end up improvising anyway?” you said, closing your laptop.

“Jesus, don’t even make me think about it,” he groaned and shot you a tired look. And as he noticed your raised brow, he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That was one time!”

“I didn’t say anything,” you pouted, slipping to the floor.

“Didn’t have to.”

The insulted expression on his face contrasted with a spark in his gaze as you snickered, piling up all the notes littering the windowsill. You placed them on the laptop, and in the name of your general rule that you'd rather eat barren rocks than go twice, you lifted everything up, balancing the stack, careful not to scatter it around. Should have paid more attention while reaching for your empty glass, though.

The glass shattered on the floor, sending broken pieces all over the place.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, putting your stuff back, your face flushed from embarrassment.

Neil jumped up from the sofa. “It’s nothing,” he said, waving his hand dismissively and sending you a reassuring smile. “I’ll get something to pick it up, just don’t move.”

A quite accurate representation of everything slipping out of your hands, you thought as you squatted, collecting the bigger chunks with shaking fingers. Sharp pain in your palm made you realize how much of a stupid idea was that.

“Motherfucker!” you hissed, dropping the now bloodied glass on the ground and flapping your hand as if it could stop it from aching.

Neil emerged from the hall, carrying a broom and a roll of paper towels.

“Couldn’t you have waited one goddamn minute?”

“Excuse me for wanting to help,” you huffed angrily and stood up.

Swiping the glass out of his way, he eyed you with concern.

“How bad is it?”

You glanced at the injured palm and winced, fighting the childish urge to hide it behind your back. “Just a small cut.”

But your casual tone was not convincing enough. Neil’s features tightened as he put the broom away.

“Let me take a look,” he said, tearing off a sheet from the roll. Without giving you much of a chance to protest, Neil reached for your hand. He smacked the tongue and shook his head as he examined the wound, carefully wiping off the blood from around its edges. “You’ll live, but we have to clean it up.”

You realized you were holding your breath. Not from the pain, though - it was the first time you felt his touch outside of training since that initial evening in his apartment, and something as simple as the light strokes of his fingers was enough to send your heart racing.

Get yourself together.

You inhaled sharply.

“I can do it myself, thanks,” you said, trying to slip away from his grasp, but he wasn’t ready to let you go that easily.

“But you don’t have to.”

The enigmatic look in his eyes was unnerving. You glared at him with determination and pulled your hand out of his.

“I’m fine.”

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, watching as you crossed the room cautiously, your bare feet tiptoeing around every glimmering spot on the hardwood floor on your way to the kitchen, where you knew Neil kept his first aid kit. Your thoughts wandered back to that one evening he answered the door mid-buttoning up the striped shirt of his.

“Can come back later if you have company...”

“I’m sure arnica is not gonna mind you joining in, a dirty little ointment that she is.”

Rolling your eyes almost as hard as the previous time, you opened a cabinet next to the sink and took out the kit. As you began cleaning the cut, you could hear Neil swiping the glass and tossing it to the bin behind you shortly after, when you were almost done.

But the further you got into the process, the more you struggled, having to use your slightly trembling non-dominant hand to deal with all the unpacking, disinfecting, and so on. And when a bandage slipped out of your hand, rolling out to the floor, you spurted out a litany of curses. Trying to salvage it into a state that would make it relatively easy to use, you noticed Neil casually leaned against the further end of the countertop with his arms crossed, looking at you with a smug grin.

“Need a hand?”

You wanted to snap back at him, but then your fingers cramped and you winced, exhaling shakily. Neil walked up to you and as his eyes met yours, you slumped your shoulders in defeat, nodding. He took the messed up bandage and rolled it back into a more usable form, the amusement in his expression tainted by something resembling a fondness. Holding your injured hand gently, he readjusted the gauze over the cut. You turned his way fully, your gaze transfixed on his moves as he meticulously dressed the wound. When he was done, he examined his work, running his digits across your palm. A corner of his lips curled into a smile and you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore a sudden heartache.

He arched a brow and looked up at you. Playful lights danced in his eyes as his thumbs stroked your fingers slowly.

“Your pride still intact?”

“Just barely,” you said and internally cursed your hoarse voice for exposing you and your reaction to him, his closeness and his attention. “Thank you.”

Neil smiled in response and his gaze softened. He raised your hand and placed a small kiss on your knuckles. Your mouth fell open but he already let go of you and started packing the first aid kit back into the cabinet. You left the kitchen in a hurry, the initial shock got replaced with a mix of frustration, anger and confusion. What the fuck was he thinking?

Grabbing your laptop on the way, you fell on the sofa, hoping it was enough of a barrier to shield yourself with until you get your storming emotions under control again.

Neil sat down on the armrest and the blue eyes bored into you.

It took all your self-control not to shift away, just to gain a little more personal space, but you were determined not to give away how uncomfortable you felt at the moment. Instead, you simply pressed your lips into a thin line, reading one sentence from the opened document over and over again, waiting for Neil to back off voluntarily.

As if you’d forgotten how persistent he could be.

"Okay, enough.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Can you tell me what's going on with you?"

You shot him the most indifferent glance from your arsenal.

“I’m trying to get the job done, despite my coworker’s attempts at distracting me with some impertinent questions.”

“You’re funny,” he grimaced. “And what is it, really?”

"Nothing."

Neil laughed dryly. "One thing I've learned about you is not to trust your nothings."

You closed your eyes for a second, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

What could you possibly tell him to make this whole mess between you more bearable?

"Drop it. We have plenty of work to do."

A sore scoff.  

"If that’s truly what you want," he said, shrugging.

But his bitter tone was the match in the powder barrel, and you couldn’t stand it anymore.

"And what do you want, huh?!" you exploded and sprung from the sofa, tossing the laptop away. Neil’s eyes widened as he stood up slowly, but the confusion on his face was only fueling your despair. "Tell me, because just when I think I know, you pull off some--” flailing your arms around, you searched for any appropriate word to push through the lump in your throat. ”--some bullshit, and I can't go on like this, so tell me - what do you want?"

Neil stared at you in disbelief, shaking his head slightly, as if he had trouble coming to terms with the turn this conversation had taken.

"I want you,” he said, stepping in your direction.

You chuckled harshly. Could have expected that.

“Sure,” you spat out, turning away, the pain in your chest making you struggle to draw a breath.

And then a sudden touch on your clenched fist.

“No, not like that!” he huffed, taking your hand in his and pulling it gently so you faced him again. “I mean-- ...yes, of course I do, but that’s not what I have in mind, goddammit.” He cringed and groaned quietly. And then he gave you a look so hopeless it took your breath away. “I care about you. I…” he stumbled over his words and blinked a few times in a futile attempt to compose himself. "I want...you." He moved closer. “The right way.” Neil cupped your face with his free hand and as he leaned in, you exhaled shakily. He softly stroked your nose with his, the familiar gesture letting you know how much he wanted to turn back time to fix his mistake from before. His broken voice shifted into a breathless plea. "Let me show you. Please."

You closed your eyes, melting into his touch.

“Neil…” you sighed, as his name was the only thing left in you when your mind went blank. Allowing your fingers to interlock, you raised your joined hands and pressed them to your chest so he could feel the heart pounding in your chest. The light brush of his thumb against your cheek made you look at him again, right into his longing eyes. You bit your lower lip to stop it from trembling and nodded.

A sharp chuckle escaped his mouth as his hand slipped into the back of your neck, pulling you into his embrace, your joined hands trapped between you, the racing heartbeats speaking more than a thousand words.

You wrapped your other arm around him and while you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your injured hand fisted on the material of his black hoodie, as if you were afraid that as soon as you let him go, you would never get him back again, losing him forever.  

While Neil’s hand slid from your neck down your back, tightening the embrace, the other one loosened the hold of yours, grazing over your collarbone on its way up, and tangling itself in your hair. You felt his warm breath on your neck and then a soft kiss just below your ear. You bit back a needy whine and your eyes screwed shut as Neil tipped your chin and his lips traveled along your jawline and stopped in the corner of your mouth. His thumb glided over your lips slowly and you opened your eyes, your fingertips already mirroring his gesture. He gasped and his gaze darkened. The yearning pouring from the blue irises resonated in your every particle and hazed over your mind.

“I need you,” you breathed. Three words being both a confession and a prayer.

A corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

There was a purposeful lack of urgency in his movements as he laid you down on the bed and undressed you, his lips greeting every inch of your bare skin with admiration. You followed, getting rid of the clothes that stood in your way, exploring his toned body with the reverence it deserved. The way his breath hitched when he eased into your hands made any coherence dissolve in your mind.

But Neil could give as good as he got, and he already knew how to work you. So you melted under his fingers. Every touch set you ablaze. Every kiss he left on you made you crave for more. More of this. More of him.

“Neil--…” you begged, bucking your hips, dragging your nails against his shoulders.

The roguish twinkle in his eyes when he crawled up to you made your heart skip a bit. He hovered over you, mesmerized by the view of you falling apart for him that easily.

“Look at you, so eager,” he teased leaning in, a husky voice carrying a smug smile. His teeth grazed your earlobe and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Takes one to kno--...oh fuck,” you panted as his thumb circled your clit, your reaction prompting a hoarse chuckle against your neck. Your hands flew to his hair and you tugged on the blonde strands, tilting his head. A groan built in his throat and it was your turn to let out a pleased laugh. “Stop playing around,” you rasped, hooking one leg over his hip as you sucked on his jaw, the sharp edge that drove you wild your every waking hour. And as your hand wandered impatiently down his body, Neil grabbed it and pinned it over your head, lacing your fingers together.

“Gladly.”

A moan escaped your mouth, taking any last resolve left in you with it. Your eyes fluttered shut. The fire in the pit of your stomach kept rising with every move of his. Even with the pure want overcoming both of you, Neil’s thrusts were slow, almost tantalizingly so, but you didn’t feel the need to ask for more. Not yet. You relished the sensation of his weight on top of you. The way his chest heaved against you. The breath you shared. There was only him. Filling your body. Filling your mind. And, undeniably now, filling your heart, too.

You looked into his eyes.

Your free hand already on the nape of his neck.

The pulse pounding in your ears.

You pulled him closer.

And kissed his lips softly.

Neil gasped breathlessly, his grasp on your hand tightened as his brows furrowed slightly and he kissed you back, athirst, and the pace of your lips matched the rhythm of your bodies instinctively. When you broke the contact, the awestruck look he gave you was filled with so much affection. Tenderness. And absolute devotion, like he would follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to.

You bit back a quiet sob.

And then he let you go and sat on the bed, a sudden lack of his closeness drawing a deprived whimper out of you. He laughed and pulled you into his arms again, and as you straddled his torso, he tucked his long legs under you, nesting you in his embrace perfectly.

The blue eyes wandered around your face and his features softened as he wiped off a single tear rolling down your cheek with his knuckles. Oh. Neil searched your gaze, making sure you were all right, and you smiled, feeling your heart melting a little inside.

His hands slid down your sides to your hips and he lifted you up, helping you position yourself on top of him. You held onto his shoulders, and as you lowered yourself down, taking him in fully, your back arched and your head fell back. You moaned and bit your lip, the pleasure searing your every nerve. God, he felt so good.

Captivated by the view in front of his eyes, by your reaction to him, Neil licked his lips and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

His mouth traveled through your chest as you rocked back and forth, gasping when he cupped your breast with his hand and rolled your nipple between his fingers. You tipped his chin to kiss him again, couldn’t get enough of him. You savored his taste. The heat of his body. His scent. Him. Utterly stunning.

The pressure built inside of you, threatening to consume you any moment now. And if the hazed blue eyes could be any indication, Neil wasn’t far behind you, too.

So you slowed down, agonizingly.

The wounded expression on his face was somewhat satisfying.

“...a payback?” he huffed in disbelief.

“Couldn’t resist,” you purred with a wicked grin, enjoying the way he groaned when you started rocking your hips again. He screwed his eyes shut and your name rolled off his tongue. You captured his parted lips in a kiss and kept grinding into him, every move bringing you closer to the release. You closed your eyes, panting frantically, trembling, almost collapsing. But he was there, holding you firmly in his arms, keeping you going.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

Encouragement. Reassurance. But also a statement. And epiphany.

You cried out and the reality shattered as the blissful pleasure rippled through every fiber of your being. Cupping Neil’s face, you kissed him again, riding out your high, feeling he was getting closer to the brink himself. You buried your hands in his hair and tugged at them, rolling your hips and he cursed and moaned, coming into you hard, pulling you to him as close as he could.

When the world stopped spinning and your gazes met, it dawned on you that there was no turning back now. He saw you. And right through you.

And judging by the tender look in his eyes, he rather liked it.

How fortunate.

Because the feeling was very much mutual.

And you weren’t afraid anymore.

------------

The moonlight seeping through the window was slowly gaining warmer undertones. You glanced at the sky visible between the tall buildings - must have been dawning already.

Grunting softly, you turned to the other side, shivering at the sensation of the chilly air against your skin, and you melted at the sight.

The impossibly ruffled blonde hair. The peaceful face, half-planted into a pillow. The gorgeous lines of his arms. The veiny forearms. The watch, still present on his wrist. The hands--...

“You’re staring at me.”

Your gaze flitted back to his face, only to see a corner of his lips twitching into a smile.

You stifled a giggle.

“And what about it?” you teased, propping the chin on your palm.

Neil opened his eyes and a cheeky grin crept on his mouth. “Seems like a good moment to mention that I don’t fold my underwear.”

You couldn’t keep the straight face at the reference and you let out an amused snort.

“Ah, nobody’s perfect,” you said, aiming for the most sympathizing tone.

The playful sparks lit up the blue irises as he grabbed your uninjured hand.

“Come here, you--” he chuckled, pulling you into his arms, entangling your legs together as you laid face to face on his pillow.

He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, gazing into your eyes fondly.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, stroking your cheek with his knuckles gently.

“Just woke up,” you said, easing into his touch. ”And got...distracted.”

A knowing hum was enough of a comment.

You slid down a bit and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Neil tightened his embrace and started tracing small patterns on your back. You let out a happy sigh, reveling in his warmth and closeness.

“Am I going to see this side of you more often now?”

“Maybe,” you wondered.

Neil sighed and smacked his tongue. “Such a shame, that obnoxiously angry chick started to grow on me.”

An outraged scoff escaped your mouth.

“Oh, fu--” you started, pulling back to glare at him, but he didn’t let you finish. Cupping your face with his hands mid-curse, he placed a kiss on your lips, deepening it at the sound of your incoherent protests. When you finally kissed him back, you felt him smiling against you, and then you lost yourselves in this little moment of bliss until you ended up breathless.

“You’re perfect,” whispered Neil, nudging your nose with his tenderly.

Your heart sang in your chest as you laughed softly in response, “You’re quite okay yourself.”

He mumbled something about you being insufferable and pinned you into the mattress, climbing on top of you.

“Aren’t you tired?” you gasped as his mouth traveled down your neck.

A throaty chuckle. “Of you?” And a roguish smile. “Impossible, I’m afraid.”

That smug bastard.

You didn’t stand a chance.

You knew you were beyond saving.

...or maybe quite the opposite?

--------

“You’re humming,” noted Ives as you left the HQ together.

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your jacket a little tighter, trying to protect yourself from the cold wind.

“Don’t be absurd.”

He studied you warily.

“I’ve heard what I’ve heard.”

“You should mention that during your next medical then,” you said, arching your brow.

He snorted and punched your arm playfully and you grinned, hitting him back.

“Oi, wanna grab a beer?”

You ran your fingers through your hair, grimacing slightly, suddenly embarrassed.

“I can’t. I--…I have a date,”

His eyes lit up. “A proper date now?” he teased, shaking his head. “You two are a tad backwards, eh?”

You shrugged and smiled, waving at the blonde man on the bottom of the stairs.

“Seems fitting for our line of work, don’t you think?”

---------

“What took you so long?”

“Neil, I swear to god, if you don’t stop asking me that every damn time you lead the blue team--”

“I can ask our boss to demote you and put you back on my squad if you want.”

“I’d rather take that total annihilation instead, please and thank you.”

The Protagonist sighed, joining Ives outside the building.

“Some things never change, huh?” he pondered.

They watched as the bickering couple walked down the street together.

Ives smirked, spotting the joined hands.

“Well, that’s new.”

Wheeler walked up to them. “These two are made for each other, all right.”

TP puffed out his chest slightly.

“I told you so.”

She glanced heavenward, keeping her next thought to herself.

Then she looked at the couple again, just to see a light tug at the olive green scarf.

And a kiss that followed.

She smiled.

Her job was done.

You’re welcome, dumbasses.

-------------------------------------------------------

a/n: I promised you a song.

Here it is.

The song. 

Their song.

Thank you, A.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report iv 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii​ @zeharilisharaban​ @btsbunny07​ @turquoiseandplaidinautumn  @aamxxrii @codeinebelle ​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Your phone blares at exactly 6:45AM, and a memetastic image of Chohee lights up your phone screen as you’re brushing your teeth. When you swipe to answer the call, you don’t even manage to get a word in when Chohee chatters you out of your sleep-deprived soul.  

“Just as practiced, I’m punctual, and you’re late.”  

Garbling out a reply about how it’s still five minutes prior to your agreed time, you tap your toothbrush loudly against the sink, likewise spitting out the foam from your mouth. “Fine, just hurry because I’m starving!”  

Being the gold-hearted person that she is (although that fact is not known to the public), your best friend had offered you a ride to the building where you’re scheduled to take the Korean Medical Licensure Examination today.  

The moment you settle yourself on the passenger seat, she greets you with a cheery “Good morning!” - one that was too cheery this early in the morning, and all the more way too cheery for a certain Kim Chohee. The two of you share a look and you lean in for a hug. “Hey, we’ll do just fine, okay? We’ve been studying our asses for this.”  

You don’t let go at once, looking up at her with a kissy face. She pushes your head backwards with a disgusted expression, keeping your face at an arm’s length. With an unattractive snort, you lean back in your seat, laughing your ass off at your poor attempt to lighten the mood.  

“Seriously, _______, I know you’ve been lusting after me for years even when you’re well aware of my ‘strictly beef’ diet,” Chohee states, dusting your imaginary germs off her shoulder. Turning on her Benz’s engine, she checks her reflection on the rear-view mirror before driving off.  

With both your hands occupied with the sandwiches you’d ordered from Subway, you use your pinky to connect your phone to play some Mozart via bluetooth. You try not to talk much about the test, knowing it will only cause unnecessary anxiety on both your ends.  

As Chohee leans towards you, you tilt her sandwich in her direction, letting her take a bite from her sub. “Hey, what’s an abscess again?”  

“Isn’t that more commonly known as boils? Built up pus within or below the surface of the skin?”  

Kim Chohee chokes on her BLT.  

“Pus?” she repeats, swallowing her bite with great strain. “Seriously? While I’m eating a sandwich? Couldn’t you be more subtle perhaps?”  

Equally just as surprised as she was, you narrow your eyes at her. “We’ve been studying medicine for the last six years! It shouldn’t be a surprise by now...and besides, we’ve heard and see a lot worse too...Would you rather have me say purulent exudate then? And waste my precious saliva on a six-syllable word rather than the common term for a liquid form of inflamm-”  

“Okay!” Chohee throws an arm up in defeat. “Sheesh _______! Don’t I deserve at least some gratitude for driving you to our exams?”  

“Plus we’ve already seen a cadaver too, which was supposedly one of the peaks of our med-student lives! What’s all this hype about some viscous mass on the surface of the skin?”  

Your best friend peeks at you from her peripheral vision, absolutely mortified. You love it.  

“Can you please remind me how we became friends in the first place?” Chohee shakes her head and increases the volume of the player as the droplets of rain start pouring down the windshield. “Anyways – I was meaning to ask the histological meaning of it.”    

“Oh, right,” you nod, recalling your notes, “well, it’s a localized collection of neutrophils and necrotic debris. Basically, it’s a suppurative inflammation which is associated with pyogenic bacteria and characterized by edema fluid admixed with neutrophils and necrotic cells. Staphylococcus aureus usually produces abscesses because it’s coagulase positive and coagulase helps the production of fibrinous material that localizes the infection.”  

As soon as you finish, silence takes over the car, and suddenly, a sniffle comes from Chohee’s side. With a matching frown, you best friend looks at you with shiny eyes. “Oh _______, what would I do without you?”  

With still half an hour to spare, you decide on relieving your bladder first before all the toilets get occupied later a couple of minutes before the actual exam. You take your time with it, even managing to put some effort in fixing your hair in clipping your fringe back so as not to eliminate all distractions possible during the exam.  

While looking through the large panel windows on your way back from the comfort rooms, you spot a familiar face – the last person you’d want to see on such an important day. Perhaps your prayers weren’t loud enough to actually reach heaven.  

There Jeon Jungkook was at the end of the hall, walking like a newly-canonized saint in all his glory. Most (if not all) of the female onlookers stare at him as he passes by, with Jungkook seemingly unbothered by their unwavering attention. You aren’t one for exaggeration, but these women look like they’re willing to worship the ground he walked on.  

Your nerdy, anti-Jeon Jungkook ass quickly hides beside a nearby locker, not wanting to be ‘graced’ by his presence, just as some girl coined a few moments ago as she headed to the toilets with her friends, collectively gushing over the boy.  

The popular kid turns to his right and you swore you’d never prayed harder and faster than any other time in your life. Your room assignment was just the one by the corner...and if he could just make a few more steps and head straight to the next classroom a-and...nope. It’s official. The universe loved shitting on you.  

Jungkook enters room 132, the very same numbers indicating your room assignment for the licensure exam. You ball up your fists in your spot by the lockers, releasing all your pent-up frustration in the simplest and least violent way possible: a long, tedious exhale.  

Gathering up all your self-control, you re-enter the classroom with an inward grimace, desperate to not have Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He’s looking for a seat, and with all the back rows already occupied, he’s stuck with picking one from the first two rows.  

He’s already stood near the seat you’ve picked and you bore holes into the back of his head with your fake telepathy, silently ordering him to pick a chair on the other side of the aisle instead.  

Just as you had not wished for, Jungkook plops his huge ass backpack on the chair next to yours. You tread back to your seat as discreetly as possible, avoiding his gaze at all times as he rummages through his military backpack. What the fuck is in that thing in the first place? You won't be surprised if he manages to pull out a whole microwave inside – and yet funnily enough, he can’t seem to own a single damn pencil.  

As you were minding your own businesses (hopefully it stays that way for the rest of eternity), you catch the other students discussing surgical cases last minute.  

“Hey, which artery is the one for transection for an epidural hematoma?”  

“Was this the kid that got hit by a fastball in the head?”  

“What happened?”  

“Poor boy got hit in the temporal area during a baseball tournament. Remained conscious during the rest of the day but during the same evening he gets a severe headache with vomiting and confusion. When they got to Severance he got scheduled for immediate surgery for epidural hematoma.”

“That sounds awful…”  

“I’m not sure which artery it was again though…”

If that were the case...then it’d be the transection of a branch of the middle meningeal artery...but then you wouldn’t want to answer that out of the blue and get mistaken for being too snoopy…

Instead, you reach for the bottle of water by the legs of your chair, likewise hearing the same answer coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in a whisper. Huh. You raise a brow. Well, there was a major chance he knew the case since he came from Yonsei too, just as you had speculated from some of your roommates who seemed like they came from the same school after mentioning Severance Hospital.  

The group continue discussing their answers when this girl, who had an obnoxiously unnatural high-pitched voice, approaches Jungkook.  

“Jungkook-oppa?”  

Oppa? OPPA?!

You wanted to throw up. This girl looked at least two-three years older than him. At the least. Guess Jeon was really more of a fuckboy than Chohee would ever admit. “We were just discussing something and we’re really unsure of our answers, maybe a smart oppa like you would know?”  

With as much discretion as you could muster, you adjust in your seat, leaning a little bit towards their conversation as you eavesdrop like the nosy person that you are.  

“The surgery was a transection of the meningeal artery,” says Jeon nonchalantly like it’s the most basic thing in the world, still scrolling through his phone. Silence ensues after that. That’s it?! He’s not even going to bother explaining-  

Jungkook exhales as he puts his phone down. “Epidural hemorrhages result from a rupture of one of the meningeal arteries, as these arteries supply the dura and run between the dura and the skull. Plus you said temporal area right?” he asks, facing one of the guys.  

“The artery involved is usually the middle meningeal artery - a branch of the maxillary artery, as the skull fracture is usually in the temporal area. Since the bleeding is of arterial origin, symptoms are rapid in onset even though he seemed normal for a few hours. If they didn’t bring him to the hospital that same evening, he could’ve had tentorial herniation and would have eventually died.”  

As much as you hate to admit it - you’re beyond impressed. Chohee always stays true to her word, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still a jerk for clearly cutting the line at the subway.  

The girls coo over him, praising him over how cool he looked by explaining his answer. Jungkook settles back on his seat like he hadn’t just perfectly given an on-point pathological explanation for a neuro case.  

The group continues their review, until they’ve come to another question they’re unsure of. “Jungkook-ssi, would you know where the rupture of a berry aneurysm of the Circle of Willis would likely produce hemorrhage?”  

With only ten minutes left, you’d usually be preparing yourself mentally but this group and Jungkook’s intervention has you all ears once more. Nothing wrong with some last minute review, right?  

“It’s the subdural space.”  

Wow. Okay, quick and close but wrong. Impressive wit though.  

You open your mouth to say something but you hesitate as it dawns on you that you really aren’t part of this group and you’re not the one being asked. Jungkook not missing a beat gets a collective ‘ooh’ from the group, who’s clearly impressed at how quickly he’s answered the question.  

Meanwhile, your conscience is making you contemplate on your earlier hesitation with the voice of the angel on your right shoulder telling you it isn’t right to let the wrong answer pass just like that, especially on a day like this. The devil on your left, however, tells you otherwise. You go with the former.  

Amongst their murmurs of mutual praise for Jungkook (you bet this man is rejoicing inside with all the attention he’s getting, despite looking nonchalant), you take a deep breath and say the correct answer, voice coming out louder than expected.  

“Excuse me?” another ‘spectator’ says, jutting her chin towards you.  

“I said,” you look up at her, “it’s actually the subarachnoid space.”  

“Are you sure?” she retorts.  

Seriously? Just because you’re not some fuckboy jock who smolders at all boobed humans means you can’t be sure with your answer?  

“Hey! I know you!” Someone exclaims from the side, causing everyone to turn their heads toward him, “You’re the foreigner valedictorian at SNU!” Similar to their earlier praises directed towards Jungkook, the same dudes marvel at your most recent accomplishment. You give a shy smile in return, quietly thanking the stranger for the sudden confidence boost.  

“Jungkook-oppa is also the valedictorian at Yonsei.”  

Well, that didn’t last for long...somebody has always got to rain on your parade. You won’t allow this girl though, not today.  

You purse your lips, collecting your thoughts first before explaining it to them. “Subarachnoid hemorrhages, although they are much less common than hypertensive intracerebral hemorrhages, but the former are...more often than not...resultant of a rupture of a berry aneurysm.” You pause momentarily when someone drags his seat closer to yours, “Go on please.”  

“Right, um...berry aneurysms are most commonly found at the Circle of Willis, usually by the junction of the communicating artery and the cerebral artery. Chances of rupture increase with age and cause marked bleeding into the subarachnoid space and produces severe headaches.” The same dude earlier blinks at you, urging you to explain further, “uh...additional symptoms may include vomiting, pain, stiffness of the neck, and papilledema. Death may follow rapidly as well.”  

A few from the people gathered around your seat clap their hands, along with compliments and offers along the lines of marriage and organ swaps.  

Someone mentions seeing the proctor approach the room and the group immediately disperses, everyone rushing back to their seats as quickly as possible. A middle-aged man enters, tells everyone to bring out their pencils and place their stuff by the platform, then momentarily leaves for the restroom.  

Jungkook fishes through his bag, turning each pocket inside and out over and over again. There’s no way this kid actually-- “Shit, where did that pencil go?” he murmurs, going through his bag once more. Looking away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from snickering. Jeon Jungkook is definitely on a different level.  

As expected, your entertaining seatmate calls you and asks for a pencil. With a deceivingly enthusiastic nod, you retrieve a pencil from your case just beside your chair. Your life after meeting Jungkook at the subway had finally led to this moment. He clears his throat and you figure it’s signaling the coming of another obnoxious comment.  

“Oh, I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant for you,” you look at him with the most apologetic look you can muster. Then you look at him, down then up, just as he had done back in the library, you smile widely before winking at him, making him hand your extra pencil over to the guy sat next to him, “Thanks, babe.”  

Jungkook scowls hard and you rejoice inside your head, making sure that your face doesn’t register the slightest bit of jest. His  scowl however, does not last for long. “Hmm, you’re the girl from the library, right? Smart and feisty...maybe you are my type after all,” he murmurs, tongue poking his cheek. You scoff loudly, scrunching your face in disgust. “No thank you.”  

“Oppa,” the girl’s shrill voice calls him one more time and you face forward to freely roll your eyes. If you aren’t mistaken, there’s even a hint of mild annoyance on Jungkook’s features. “Don’t mind her, oppa. You can have my extra pencil instead.” She tsks. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”  

At least she got something right this morning: you don’t know when to quit. 

© joontier 2021

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom, season 3, episodes 1-2 thoughts! I had to split up my season 3 watch awkwardly because the second part of it was too picture heavy and tumblr only wants you to have 10 pictures per post, per the No Fun Allowed Rule. :/ I was planning on just doing 1-6 then 7-13, but, it'll probably be split into 3 posts now... (along with a follow up thoughts post after I finish and think on it for a lil while...)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-vlad got a new mansion. and the guys in white IMMEDIATELY BREAKS IN AND STARTS SMASHING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING, DESTROYING HIS NEW MANSION KAJDFHSSKADJKJN. NEVER LAUGHED SO HARD IN MY LIFE. 'the greatest practical joke ever' TUCKER YOU ARE SOOO RIGHT.

-'DAnnY FenTon MadE mE ThE LaugHINg StOCk oF WisCONsIn' if you dont shut up. you made yourself a laughing stock. love the cute pink hotel room. also, Vlad's Naked on The News. VLAD BUYING THE NASTY BURGER TO TEAR IT DOWN. the way they keep escalating these..pranks? IS TEARING DOWN A BUISSNESS A PRANK?? (the metric by which I decide if its a prank is if its funny to me or not. vlads house being torn down? funny prank. local burger place being torn down? maybe not. MAYBE the naked on the news prank was pushing it because he WAS in a hotel just, minding his own business, but like, he stays bothering danny for no reason when danny is just minding his own business, too! its not right but there IS a sense of vindication here. yknow?

-...'at least now he's channeling his sociopathic lonely bachelor energy into something positive!' this is unironically an insult to actual sociopathic people. 'but he doesnt care about other people!' 'and thats why he'll make a great politician!' BRUTAL. but not untrue? I mean, this is not at ALL surprising. hes a billionaire via cheating and lying, and already a huge Slimeball. So yeah, politician is 100% right.

-but did vlad move to amity park? I might be wrong about this, or illinois laws might be different, but I kinda assumed if you're running for election for mayor in a town, that you had to live within the voting jurisdiction and be registered to vote there. I mean, he's temporarily in a hotel and technically displaced rn (...I thought for sure he'd have more vacation homes...) so I guess there's probably a grace period to find a permanent home in amity park?

-ME, CHEERING DANNY ON EVERY SINGLE TIME HE BEATS VLAD UP, BEING SO PROUD OF MY SON:

-'hes overshadowing the voters!' why...are you surprised, danny???? election fraud is Nothing. did you forget he stole BILLIONS OF DOLLARS.

-ok the school uniforms are kinda cute tho lol.

-NO TEENAGERS ALLOWED IN THE NEW RESTURAUNT?? WHAT KIND OF BUISSNESS IS THAT,, SO PETTY. tucker straight up tearing off the security camera. king of property destruction

-vlad trying to make life hell. For a 14 year old. who is trying to genuinely apologize and offer a truce (despite all the creepy and fucked up things vlad has done to him and his family). what the fuck can I even say about this. I think i've said several times while watching 'what the fuck is wrong with you', i need a stronger statement.

-Teens Against McMasters! Fries Not Lies! I want to see vlad get mauled by teens. I want them to start Throwing Rocks.

-vlad saying 'dudes' is the worst thing I've ever heard.

-danny overshadowing the clone was GENIUS AND MAKING HIMSELF LOOK INJURED. SO PROUD OF YOUUUU. USE HIS OWN TACTICS AGAINST HIM. GET HIS ASS.

-frostbite's design is really interesting. ghost...bones... incased in ice?? anyway im so glad danny is getting more hugs :)

-oh, they basically worship(?) or put danny on a pedestal because he defeated pariah?? well IM happy for him having more ghosts that are friendly to him :) also, sam and tucker's lil snow jackets...super cute.

-more ghost lore!!! THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE IS A GHOST PORTAL. OF COURSE.

-VLAD ACTUALLY DID GET A CAT AWWW KITTY I WUV U KITTY. who he plays chess with...okay, you know what, thats so valid. and actually, pets are usually actually good for mental health, you have a lil guy to care for and they can give u a reason to try ur best so u can provide for them, and they are always good for comfort...good job, vlad!! next go to therapy. 'if anyone asks, you're my sister's cat!' so does he actually HAVE a sister? can she come beat him up

-sam is Right. they shouldve immediately taken the map back to frostbite! but I get it, exploring Can Be Fun

-'carnivorous canyon' in the ghost zone is just mystery flesh pit

-vlad is going to burn a 14 year old girl at the stake. you know, I half expected clockwork to come up and stop this, because they're fucking with time, BUT. nope. this is nbd, I guess.

-well, blood blossoms are terrifying. I know 'ive never eaten a vegetable in my life!' was tucker being hyperbolic, but this kid is going to get so many digestive problems if he doesnt Start Eating Healthier.

-...vlad wanted to go to rome and be a god?? I want to know where he self-inserted himself in their already established pantheon. what did he say he was the god of??

-VLAD SET THE ENTIRETY OF ROME ON FIRE. SO THEY PROBABLY ASSUME GOD OF DESTRUCTION. GOD OF ASSHOLERY.

-how embarrassing, to swordfight a 14 year old and struggle to win. lmfao they keep running vlad off every place he tries to take over

-'if i can destroy the first airplane, man will never fly and I will rule the air!' VLAD. DO YOU THINK. DO YOU THINK THE WRIGHT BROTHERS WERE THE ONLY PEOPLE TO THINK OF AND CONCEPTULIZE FLIGHT???! oh my god he is so dumb. people have always been trying to fly even before that, and even if you destroyed (1) plane its not like no one else could make one??? as if people hadn't already been making hot air balloons since the 1700s??? or coming up with concepts, and studying on how to make them work? starting to think vlad shouldve paid attention in college and not been so fixated on maddie. or, I dunno, read a book in his huge library...(I mean, I dunno what he majored in or studied in college, but it obviously wasnt history...)

-vlad getting his ass kicked by snow dogs and getting shidded on by a pigeon :)

-'hes got more in common with us than he realizes!' DANNY IS A YETI??? CONFIRMED (no,, but I hope that means we'll see more of the far frozen! I like them :)

-what in the world was this episode tho. like..okay?? vlads plans did not make ANY sense to me, like, was I missing something , or. WHY is he so fixated on Ruling all of the sudden...sure he might be power-hungry, feeling powerless can do that and I'm sure the accident/being abandoned made him feel that way, but its always felt like his real end goal was just to steal jack's family out of jealousy and spite, not to like. um,, rule rome I guess. ?? theres No Maddie In Rome, Vlad.

[yikesharringrove]

Hi! Loving little mango 🥭! Do you think you could go back in time a little bit and do Steve going into labour and having her? Maybe it going wrong just slightly and the nurses not telling Billy anything that’s happening? I dunno, I just love it and kind of want know how billy would react if there was a chance he could lose either of them?

Masterlist

Part 27

-

So, my plan was for there to be complications with the second pup (some of you caught my hints 😉) so there is gonna be a part 2 to this bc I didn’t want to totally combine the two requests.

Also under the cut since it gets medical-y and heavy.

LOTS of angst

-

The three of them were almost back to their apartment when Steve felt the first contraction.

He had to lean against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut as he held the bottom of his tummy.

“Fuck, that was-” he took a few deep breaths before looking up at Billy, brows furrowed. “There’s something wrong.”

Billy knew better than to question Steve. He raced to the apartment, getting their hospital bags, shoving them in the back of the car.

He was quiet as he buckled Mina into her car seat, helped Steve into the front seat. He held Steve’s hand as he drove. Both of their hands were sweaty, were shaking. There was blood seeping through Steve’s jeans.

They pulled into the emergency room. Billy ran to get someone, sprinting up to the front reception.

“My husband’s gone into labor. He’s in extreme pain and bleeding and says he can tell that something’s wrong.”

Steve was wheeled right through triage. Billy had left the bags, was holding a very distressed Mina to his chest as he ran behind Steve.

The doctors were apathetic as they got him situated in a delivery room.

“Sometimes, with the second born, they can come a lot faster, so you may be experiencing contractions from further along the labor time.” The doctors were setting him up with an ultrasound.

“He’s fucking bleeding.”

“That can be common.” Billy wanted to fucking scream. Mina was holding her giraffe close to her, had big tears in her eyes.

The doctor was looking at the monitor. He stopped for a second, squinting at it. He turned to Steve.

“How far along are you?”

“Thirty eight weeks.” The doctor nodded, looking at the nurse that had just administered Steve’s IV.

“Get him prepped for surgery.” Billy’s heart dropped to his ass. “I’m going to call the surgical team.”

“What’s happening?” The doctor fucking ignored him, just left the room. Steve was white.

The nurses were fluttering around him, one cleaned the ultrasound gel off his tummy as another took Steve’s vitals.

“Sorry, can you tell us what is going on?”

“The doctor found a complication. The pup will need to be surgically removed. We should have an OR ready shortly. For now, Mr. Hargrove, don’t take in anything by mouth, including water and we’ll be back to get you once the surgeons, the room, and the anesthesiologist are ready for you.”

“They both left.

“What the does complication mean?” Steve was staring up at Billy. Mina reached out for Steve. Billy sat her next to him. “Do you, do you think-”

“No, Baby. Don’t even, don’t even say that.” Billy sat down heavily in the plastic chair next to Steve’s bed. He put his head on Steve’s chest.

“Dada, here.” Mina help out her giraffe for him. “Gigi will protect you and Sweet Pea.” He smiled at Mina, taking the giraffe.

“Thank you, Mango. Can you tell Sweet Pea that we’ll see them soon, and we can’t wait to meet them?” She leaned to ‘talk’ to the pup while Billy met Steve’s eyes over her head. He mouthed it’s gonna be okay. Steve nodded at him, tears in his eyes.

The nurses returned about twenty minutes later.

Steve was still in pain, was bleeding enough to warrant a transfusion.

Billy kissed him deeply, watched as Steve hugged Mina, trying to keep his tears back.

He had to sit with Mina in the waiting room, set her down with a book and a few Barbies that he had retrieved from the car and went to use the phone across the room, keeping his eyes trained on her.

The first call he made was to Hop and Joyce.

“Steve’s in surgery. Had been for about half an hour now.” He could hear Hopper choke.

“What happened?” Joyce’s voice was soft.

“They, they didn’t tell us anything. Just said there’s a complication. Steve was in so much pain, and he was bleeding. They had to start giving him a fucking transfusion he lost so much.”

“We’re flying out. We’ll leave in a few hours, get on the next flight to San Diego.” Billy rubbed his eyes, trying not to have a full scale breakdown where his daughter could see.

“Thank you, thank you both. We can reimburs-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Joyce’s voice was sharp. “This is our grandbaby, we want to come.” A nurse came out of the back. Billy perked up, hoping she was there to give him some information. She headed to another man, sat to speak with him.

“Listen, I should go. Mango was freaking out when they took Steve back. Do you think it’s better for her to wait or should I call someone to get her?”

“If Steve is still in surgery in an hour, call someone to get her.” Billy nodded at Hop’s voice. “And Billy, they’re gonna pull through. Both of ‘em.” Billy hung up before he could start crying.

He called Claudia next, explained the same thing to her. He had to get off that call fast. She had started bawling when he told her nobody had said what was wrong, had told him that he and Mina could come live with her.

He needed to take several breaths after that.

There was a real possibility he could lose them tonight, lose his little pup, lose his Steve. He buried his face in his hands, taking several breaths. He felt something against his stomach.

Mina was pushing her stuffed pig into him, looking at him with big eyes. With Steve’s eyes.

“Daddy, Peggy will make you not sad.” He took the big, squatting down to pull her into a hug.

“Thank you, Mango. You’re right, Peggy is making me not sad.” He picked her up, took her to the seats in the corner he had throw their shit on.

The nurses hadn’t let Steve bring the giraffe into the sterile OR, so it was sitting on its own seat. Mina felt it needed plenty of room to send it’s happy to Dada.

Billy tried to distract himself reading to Mina, but hid thoughts kept spiraling.

He figures they didn’t tell him anything because they didn’t know anything, just saw something was wrong and wanted to see for themselves. Or possibly it was something so bad, they thought it would be easier for Billy not to know.

His mind raced through every horrible thing he could think of, from Steve having cancer, to the pup being a stillborn. He tugged Mina into his lap, wanted to hold her while they waited.

He breathed her in. She smelled like honey, and like rain, and like everything good in the world.

They read through The Very Busy Spider as they waited, as Billy tried to focus on good, on soft while somehow preparing himself for the worst.

[blackhyena]

gothank you @slutteryingreen for tagging me to uhhh. do this deep dive i guess.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? black ideally but like, whatever’s there in practice? i seem to have got hold of an aqua blue bastard right now and i feel somewhat foolish

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? i love the country but i need to be in a city where everything is convenient and it feels like im part of.... something at least. the idea of being far from amenities is quite frightening to me given how paranoid i can be lmao

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? i know i already play guitar but i would like to be actually genuinely good at it rather than mediocre. i also would like to be better at doing makeup, and i’d really love to be able to make my own clothes alas i can’t even work a sewing machine

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? i do not

5. What was your favourite book as a child? omg megan horrible histories is such a shout. i did love those dragonology/egyptology/pirateology books though i still have them somewhere cause im not throwing away QUALITY like that

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? showers 

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Oh To Be A Gender Non Conforming Vampire

8. Paper or electronic books? paper

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? my assorted flashy blazer collection

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? i mean.... it’s unusual, and i suppose that makes it feel very personal to me. but then also i love my nicknames/alternative names so much, i have genuinely considered changing it, but then i also like the idea of going by several variously

11. Who is a mentor to you? ummm. literally? my supervisor

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for?  i still daydream about being a musician, that hasnt changed since i was really small haha. though sometimes in my daydreams i am also a screenwriter/director maybe. i don’t know. id hate to be super famous though megan is on the money, gotta be niche

13. Are you a restless sleeper? hmm, i take ages to get to sleep but when im out i am OUT. as in people have to make sure im not dead out. 

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? in every sense of the word!

15. Which element best represents you?  this is probably just from astrology shit but i think air is also quite representative of me!

16. Who do you want to be closer to? oh to be close to someone! in this economy...

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?  SEE ABOVE. everyone!!!!!

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory: my two cousins arguing over who got to give me a horse-ride in my nana’s living room, meanwhile i’m crying in the corner begging them not to fight

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? oh take your pick! chicken hearts, ostrich, springbok.... all very delicious would recommend

20. What are you most thankful for? im very loved by my family and friends 🥺 even though i can get insecure and not realise it, it’s something i need to commit to heart more often. 

21. Do you like spicy food? yes but my body does not. doesn’t stop me though!

22. Have you ever met someone famous? ive met miles kane! and jason manford. and some randos from coronation street. oh and kate mulgrew. and lee mack, who was getting my train along with catherine tate. there’s probably more ive forgotten. 

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? lol NO but i do have a planner because if i didnt my life would have fallen apart completely by now. 

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?  pen.

25. What is your star sign? libra

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? crunchy... but i also don’t eat cereal. ive fully gone off milk (no pun intended)

27. What would you want your legacy to be? that i created something beautiful or though-provoking, or at least funny

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? ahah if i didnt like reading doing what i do then id be FUCKED. i just finished reading the ebb-tide by robert louis stevenson!

29. How do you show someone you love them? i get them something nice... i suck at expressing it because i’m so nervous it won’t go down well. a gift does nicely to get around that.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? i guess?

31. What are you afraid of? failing.... being forgotten.....rejection.... oh and wasps, hugely. bug sounds freak me the fuck out!!!!

32. What is your favourite scent? woody, earthy rain smells. and jasmine/honeysuckle too i suppose

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? i... whatever they go by????

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? my house would be so beautifully hideous and full of beautifully hideous clothes. 

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? pools, just cause i can’t be dealing with salt water in my nose where it has no business being

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? i .... GUESS i would turn it in to see if anyone had lost it, but you can bet i’d be fuming

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? no!!! i think i’m too short-sighted to pick most of them out. really mad about that actually why did you ask

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? im not planning to have kids but i did come to a conclusion that, while formerly i would have simply told them to be kind, i would also tell them to be smart. because natural intelligence aside critical thinking is a GIFT and they should rightly question everything rather than taking it as gospel. 

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? urgh i know exactly what i would get and if covid/money/parental expectations truly were no object i’d be getting little fragments of cathedral architecture from all the cities i’ve lived in tattooed on my wrists.

40. What can you hear now? the garage door creaking open under our flat

41. Where do you feel the safest? at home, with a cat curled up on my bed.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? insecurities yes.... anxieties.... fears.... all that. i should get therapy probably

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? it would not be permanent because i do NOT want to live without modern niceties but i WOULD go back to the eighteenth century/regency.... and just meet some people i’ve been reading about in the flesh, and see if they live up to the hype.

44. What is your most used emoji?  red love heart emoji....

45. Describe yourself using one word. odd...

46. What do you regret the most?  not sticking up for people being bullied at school. i know it was a self preservation thing at the time and i was a kid and didnt necessarily know better but like.... i wish i hadnt tried to distance myself from it, i could have been a lot more empathetic and made the world a bit kinder for people going through it, you know?

47. Last movie you saw?  belle! 

48. Last tv show you watched? succession

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. you know when you give your cat a gentle shove and it rolls over dramatically onto its back? that’s tipcat. 

i tag @ceolfriths @wutheringdyke  @mycravatundone @colubride @renfield @goblinmarquess​

[key-slam]

Late posting again bcos i was tired last night (sorry to my dear fans that were disappointed by not having a post to read yesterday)

July 18th 2021

Woke up without a headache, very thankful for that. Got ready for work. When I got there the computer i clocked in on said happy birthday but it used my deadname. It was really busy today. Mostly old people or people who were at pride or old people who were at pride. Met some deaf people which really made me wish that I had been able to learn sign language like my cousins did. Inner city schools never offer sign language. Ill learn it one day. We had another catering order but I wasn't there for when it was cooked. I just did some of the sides. I made myself a churro which absolutely fucked. When i clocked out the computer did the thing again and i yelled ew when i saw my deadname. When i got home my plans to play minecraft with my friends fell through. It was my fault though. I didnt express why I wanted to play with them plus i only let them know a few days before, and its not like I could change their schedule either. I mean it was fine, I can play minecraft with them any day. I guess it just hurt a little because it was my birthday lol. My grandma said she was gonna call me when i got off work but since my phones shitty i didnt get a notif. I just watched youtube alone for most of the day. My family went to menards without me. I would've loved to go but I was still under the impression that my friends were gonna play minecraft lol. They still got me a monster though. I started to get a headache which sucked but is was minor compared to the last couple i had. But i was very nauseous so that sucked. My dad got me a laptop, its not refurbished this time so thats good. Its way smaller than my current one but it looks like it has a better screen so hopefully I dont get washed out colours while drawing. Oh yeah i forgot to say that i finished my art on the phone w spike. I think its one of my best pieces. I may post it with some things blacked out. My sister didnt get me anything but thats my fault cause i never sent her a link to the flag i wanted. I dont even want a pride flag. Idk why i told her that. Maybe ill get a different flag, like for another musician. My bday cake sucked. Its okay but the frosting is too sweet for me. I dont like cake so idk why i got one. My mom called asking abt my grandma, apparently she did call but y'know because of my phone i didnt get it. She yelled at me. The whole time she was saying she wasnt but Sydney could here her through the phone. I dont know why shes like this. I cried. After that i just got a wave of depression and dysphoria. Dissociation started and lasted the rest of the night, sucked real bad. My night continued being shitty but several of my partners sent me nudes so that was banger. Horny dysphoria loophole lol. I called w kory but it was past midnight so we only texted. This wasn't necessarily the worst birthday ive had but y'know at this point i cant really rank them anymore. Especially after 2019. I guess this year really made me miss moss. I know we're still friends but i dont think theyd be comfortable hanging out with me. Idk, life just sucks lol.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part nine) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually)  Word count: ±5050 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part nine: Everyone deals with the aftermath of the fight differently. Worried about Dean, Y/N goes out to look for him, but doesn’t find the man she got to know in the past weeks. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Save Yourself - KALEO (Y/N and Dean scene), Burden - Foy Vance (end scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

     The evening has set in completely, a clouded sky obstructing a view of the galaxy above. Normally, a dark blue would stretch out above the ranch, blending into a lighter tone at the horizon in the west where the sun sank down hours ago. But today the sky is black. No moon nor stars decorate the night’s ceiling. Almost as if the weather knows that it’s not the time to be breathtaking. No one will look up to appreciate her anyway. 

     Y/N vacuumed the bunkhouse, then gave the kitchen a good once over, just to keep busy. Jo took her example and scrubbed the bathroom. At least the therapeutical cleanup isn’t for nothing, because there was enough sand between the floorboards for the footing of a new arena, and there were several organisms living on leftovers in the refrigerator. Wranglers are a bunch of swines, that much Y/N knows. She neatly folds the wrung out the cloth that she used, leaves it in the sink, and stares through the four-squared window. Still no sign of Dean. Honestly, she’s not sure if it would be reasonable to expect Ash back tonight, since he doesn’t have to show up for work in the morning. But Dean isn’t going to stay away, is he?

     While she is cleaning the faucet until she’s able to see her own reflection in the copper, she moves past denying how worried she is about him. Staying here and letting him be, as Jo put it, feels wrong. A breath of air rolls from her lips when she eyes the wall clock again. Ten minutes to nine; he’s been gone for almost two hours. For a moment she contemplates what to do next. She can still ride Meadow, even though she intended to give her the day off. It will keep her busy, for sure, her horse will probably offer some comfort, too. But she cannot take away the concern she carries for the head wrangler, only he can do that. With three determined steps she’s by the door opening, and is about to push away the fly curtain, when she hears stumbling, coming from behind. Jo just exited the bathroom, almost tripping over the stick of the mop while holding up a bucket of water. She has purple rubber gloves on, her blonde hair looks quite similar to the rag she is holding, and her shirt is pulled into a knot above her belly button. It’s quite a peculiar sight.

     “Where are you going?” she asks, perplexed. Surely, Y/N isn’t going to leave her friend to scrub the floor alone.      “I’m gonna go to the stables. I think we did enough cleaning for one day, or a week,” she excuses.      “To the stables, my ass. You’re going after Dean, ain’t ya?”      Y/N opens her mouth to counter Jo with a firm ‘no’, but when she looks at her friend, she drops the act. One cocked eyebrow, that same judgemental grin she gave the intern when she commented on her boots being too clean for a ranch hand, the day the cowgirl picked her up from the airport. Darn, Jo is on to her. And so she presses her lips together and sighs.       “He seemed upset,” she utters.      “He’s a dude, he’ll live. Men are mad for a minute, walk it off and by the time they turn around, they have forgotten what the whole thing was about. They’re like goldfish,” her friend scoffs.      Y/N snorts at that comparison. Clearly the ranch owner’s daughter has a strong opinion of the other gender.             “I’m just going to check on him, alright?” she promises.      “Do what you gotta do,” Jo replies. “You know where I’ll be.”      Thankful Y/N smiles at her friend, then moves the fly curtain out of the way and steps outside. Jo might think it’s stupid of her to let Dean get under her skin, but that doesn’t mean she will leave her to struggle with it alone, in case it backfires. Odds are that the wrangler is going to hurt her feelings somewhere down the line, the numbers are not exactly in his favor. But knowing that Jo will be there with a safety net ready to catch her, is reassuring. After a mocking ‘hate to say I told you so’, she will be her friend. 

     Grateful, Y/N walks down in the direction she saw Dean disappear hours ago. The air is thick, as if another thunderstorm is about to break out. The wind died down completely, leaving the lands in silence. The only sound she can detect, is a rhythmical pound every so many seconds, much like a pile-driver. Y/N isn’t far off, because when she reaches the cattle pens, she finds Dean, slamming a post into the ground with a sledgehammer. Seems like she wasn’t the only one who kept her hands busy to get through the evening.       Clearly still worked up over the fight he had with Ash, Dean swings the hammer over his head with everything that he’s got and hits the pole on the head. His grey shirt sticks to his torso, sweat shimmering on his skin, brought out by the lampposts that light the driveway. Veins lay thick on his forearms, dust and dirt smudges add to the shades in his dark features. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so caught up in the work that he fails to hear her footsteps. In silence, she watches, both intrigued and intimidated, but eventually gathers the courage to announce herself.      “Dean?”

     He pauses his action for a brief second and looks at the timid woman, bewildered. Out of breath, he takes her in, but decides not to respond and heaves the hammer again in order to smash it down, driving the post deeper into the ground.      “It’s getting pretty late,” she adds, hoping to get some kind of response that is more than just a look.      “I have to finish this fence,” he returns, his voice monotone, as if he is trying to restrain every emotion.      “The fence will still be there tomorrow,” Y/N returns.      “I’d rather fix it now.” He hits the pole again. “At least this fucking fence –” and again, “– I can fix.”      Oh, yeah; this is definitely a good way to deal with things. Y/N watches him jam the sledgehammer down a couple of more times, overworking his body.       “You’ve been going at it since 4 AM,” she counters, trying to convince him. “Please come inside?”      “I’m fine,” he replies bluntly, between swings.      Y/N huffs, sarcasm evident. “Yeah, I can see that.”      The head wrangler doesn’t respond, yet keeps grinding. He feels the young woman’s eyes on him, though. She is reading into his actions, his words, his behavior, and it’s bugging the hell out of him. 

     Cautiously, she moves in a few steps closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”      He drops the sledgehammer on the ground with a loud thump and turns to her, chest heaving and clearly annoyed.      “Do I look like I wanna talk about it?” he scolds between breaths. “I told you I’m fine!”      Taken aback by the hostility in his voice, Y/N stares at him. This is a side of Dean she has never seen before. Sure, he gave her a cold shoulder when she turned him down on her first night at the ranch, but the darkness that clouds his eyes now is different. He has closed himself off and as he was rebuilding the fence, he pulled up a wall as well. She understands that he’s hurt, but he is the second friend to lash out at her tonight and it’s more than she can handle.      “You know what? I won’t waste your time then. I’m certainly not going to waste any more of my time on you,” she spits, acrimony on her tongue. “Good luck with your damn fence.”

     Angry, Y/N turns on her heels before he can spot the tears burning in her eyes. Hurried steps take her away from the man that gets to her more than she should let him. You dumb goose. How could you have been so naive? Jo was right to warn her every single time she did. She has known her cousin her entire life and still Y/N begged to differ. For hours, she’s been worried about the guy who is only nice to his intern when he thinks he can seize the opportunity to get her into his bed. She empathized with him, and this is what she gets in return. A snarl from that selfish dick when she tries to help him. The cowgirl can hear him call out for her, but she ignores it. It’s not until she hears her name again close behind her, that she hesitates.      “Y/N…”      Strong yet tender fingers lock around her wrist and stop the woman who tries to flee from him. The action spins her around, but she avoids Dean’s eyes. When Y/N does glance up into those green orbs bouncing over her features, she can detect the dismay in his expression. If there is anything that she does not want him to see, it’s the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks.           The bitterness that affected his temper a moment ago is gone and guilt replaces it. Shit, what has he done?      “I’m sorry,” he says, not a trace of swallowed pride. “You’ve been blamed for things that ain’t your fault enough today. You didn’t deserve that.”      He loosens the grip on her wrist a little and lets his fingers slide down her smooth skin until he holds her hand, squeezing it gently. There are so many emotions from both sides of the spectrum coursing through Y/N, but the most evident is the sensation that races up and down every nerve like a racetrack, the start and finish where he touches her. She looks down at their entwined fingers, at how her hand, soft from the all-purpose cleaner, fits in his palm. This is the first time that there is intentional physical contact and it shuts down her brain and sends her heart into overdrive. 

     “You’re not fine,” she manages to say. “I’m not a simpleton, Dean.”      “I know you’re not,” he acknowledges. “It’s just that…”      He pauses, hesitant about his next step. Opening up about the things that occupy his mind and keep him up at night is not something he’s comfortable with. His entire life he only had a few of those conversations, a few with Bobby, the others with Ellen. He only talked to them because they already knew a thing or two about his past and the issues that it brought along. But apparently the newest member of the crew is able to pierce through that veil and see behind the mask he thought he wore so well.       “Dean… I know this isn’t all about Ash, and whatever it is that is bothering you, it’s okay. You can talk to me.” Y/N squeezes his hand, ensuring, letting him know she’s ready to listen.      The anger she felt a moment ago when he shut down on her has disappeared as the ice on the lakes at the end of winter, back in Freeport. She isn’t even sure how this happened, but standing here in the wide-open spaces, lingering in his touch, it feels so good and so safe. It brings a calm over her she didn’t realize she longed for. 

     “I - I don’t really talk about this stuff,” the head wrangler admits. “I dunno, it feels like when I do, I just rattle shit up… It wouldn’t do anyone good.”      He lets go of her, before the girl he feels attracted to starts to wonder what the connection means, but runs his thumb over her knuckles gently before her fingers slip from his. The moment he pulls away, the wrangler already aches for her touch. Uneasy, he turns away and rests both his hands on the mid rail of the fence, his hunched shoulders blocking a clear view of his face. He cannot let her see it. He cannot let her see him.      “So that’s your strategy? When something bad happens, you bury it?”       Y/N isn’t judging him, he can tell by the way she asks the question and is looking at him, curious and sympathetic. What she is doing, though, is trying to understand how his mind works. What if she’s able to decipher his code? What if she can speak this foreign language that he made his? What if she figures me out?      Just the thought of letting it all rise to the surface scares Dean to death. Knowing that the one person he wants to impress, who he wants to do good by, will be able to tell how broken he truly is. And yet, despite the fear that is eating him up inside, he cannot pretend. He cannot lie to her.      “Yeah, I guess I do,” he admits. “Usually it works for me.”      “But not always,” she knows.      “No, not always.”

     He’s quiet now, his gaze locked on the soil that has become solid again after this morning’s rain. Y/N observes his body language; how he’s turned slightly away from her, head tipped down, resting his arms on the fence as if he needs something to lean on. It’s a stark contrast to the confident smile and bright eyes that she got used to. This is a part of him people rarely get to see, Y/N is very much aware of that. What she’s also aware of, is how delicate the situation is. Pushing him to talk will only trigger the opposite, and so she lets him be. The words she leaves between the two of them have only one purpose: to make him feel better.      “If you don’t feel like talking, that’s alright. But what happened to Ash, you know he was wrong to take it out on you, right? This is not your fault.”      Even in the dim light she can see his jaw flex, confirming her suspicion that he does, indeed, blames himself for his friend’s departure.      “It was my decision. One I had to make, but still. At least I should’ve been honest with him. He had a hunch that something wasn’t right and I could have eased him into it. Instead, I told him everything was going to be alright. Who does that?” the handsome wrangler ponders, able to kick himself in the head for his tactic. “He’s family, he deserves better.”      “You tried to protect him,” Y/N soothes.      The cowboy scoffs and pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth. “And look how that turned out…”

     Dean appreciates the cowgirl’s efforts. Hell, he admires her for them, because she could have walked off and let him rot after that snarl he gave her, and it would have done him justice. The thing is, Y/N wasn’t far off when she assumed that he wasn’t just upset about Ash. His whole life he has tried to protect the people he loved at the expense of himself, without question. One person stands out from all the others. A boy with hazel hair, bangs hanging in front of his eyes which used to look up to Dean admiringly. Always carrying some book around, always reading and studying. Quiet, observant, smart, a will of his own, even at a young age. A boy Dean fought for to keep safe, tried to make sure he would land on his feet alright, and be given all the opportunities he deserved. A boy who he took the hit for, every single time. A boy who would call Dean his big brother. A boy called Sam. He failed him, just like he failed Ash today.

     “Hey…”      The woman who is breaking down his walls brings him out of the trance he was stuck in, her voice alone having that effect. He turns to her again as she steps closer and looks up at him.      “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but sometimes it’s easier to open up to an outsider.”      She’s not done with her pledge, but Dean interrupts her either way.      “You’re not an outsider,” he makes clear. “I know you’re not from here, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. In fact, I think you are exactly where you should be.”      The words quiet her, leaving a smile on her lips and warmth in her heart. Feeling accepted and welcome, she lets her eyes glide over the dark desert lands on her right. Her surroundings look exactly the same as it did on the evening she arrived on the property. She remembers how alien this world seemed, witnessing a landscape like she had never seen. Her gaze captures the overhead sign above the driveway, ‘Gold Canyon Ranch’ carved out of the worn pinewood. Maybe Dean is right; maybe she is exactly where she needs to be.      “Well, outsider or not…” She restores eye contact, a calm exuding from her that soothes him. “You can always knock on my door.”      For the first time tonight, she can spot a glint of relief in his expression. It’s almost unnoticeable, but it’s there.      Dean is not going to make any promises, though. Not because he doesn’t want to get close to her; on the contrary. But revealing what he’s truly about, what has inflicted the scars which haven’t healed even after all those years, it will scare her away.       “Thank you,” he responds, grateful. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

     It’s a good enough answer for Y/N and she smiles back, glancing up into his eyes. There she is again, trapped like a butterfly in a spider’s web, unable to move or look away. His breathing has slowed and is back to normal after the exertion, but beads of sweat are still forming on his forehead, a drop rolling down his temple. He wipes his brow with his forearm, barely breaking eye contact. They both sense it, the change in the atmosphere, just like when the two had a moment under the Joshua tree. God, he wants to kiss her so bad that lust almost wins the battle it’s fighting with his confidence. He is offered another chance to make a move, but he’s not going to take it. This smart, kind, and strong woman deserves much better than the damaged man that he is. He breaks the tension by glancing down briefly while clearing his throat. When he looks back at her, he could swear he sees disappointment in her gorgeous eyes and regret stabs him in the gut.       “I’m, uh - I’m gonna finish up that fence,” he stammers, making a fist and pointing his thumb over his shoulder.       “Need a hand?” she asks, recovering quickly from the letdown.       Dean seems stunned by her offer, because he frowns at the intern after a double-take. “You want to help me fix the fence?”      “I’m only offering once,” she warns jokingly.      The head wrangler grins, amused. “Well, in that case. Yeah, I could use a hand,” he accepts.

     The cowgirl walks past him, eyeing him over her shoulder as she parades away. He stares for a second, smiling at the sight of her picking up the sledgehammer along the way, which apparently is heavier than she anticipated. The clumsy way she handles the large tool makes him chuckle, joyful for the first time tonight. No wonder, because without trying, she is absolutely stunning. A warmth spreads through him in waves, and he is highly aware of it. He recognizes the sensation. It has washed over him several times already, always when he laid his eyes on her. The girl with bright eyes and messy hair after a hard day’s work, despite her efforts to contain her locks. The girl who cares for others, who is kind to every living creature on this planet. She is beautiful in every way, inside and out. Under the yellow ray that falls down on her from the lantern above, she turns around. The spotlight creates dark shadows on the ground, but at the same time, it illuminates her features with a warm glow. 

     “Are you coming or what? That fence isn’t gonna fix itself,” she challenges.      Dean scoffs with a laugh, appreciating the attitude. Then he heads her way, stopping her when she almost loses her balance after heaving the large hammer above her head.      “Why don’t you give the sledgehammer to me, before someone gets hurt,” he mocks, holding out his hand.      “I can handle a hammer,” she returns, huffing defensive.      Doubtful, the wrangler looks back at her. “I think the fence is gonna disagree with you there.”      “Do you want my help, or not?” she recalls, letting out a laugh.      “Yeah, I want your help,” he admits. 

     The words lay deeper than would appear on first notice. It’s not intentional and Dean is worried for a second that she will pick up on what he really wants; he wants her to help him. Help him to heal, help him breathe, help him to love. No one has ever come through to him like she has already, and that’s exactly why he won’t make a move. He is beginning to understand what this all means, what is happening to him. How he feels about the newest member of the crew, is different. It’s mind-blowing and exciting, yet at the same time, it scares the shit out of him. The space she has occupied in his heart is growing steadily, but he can’t allow himself to act on it, because he simply can’t be selfish with her. That’s okay, though. Having her around as a colleague and a friend for the limited time she will stay with him trumps not having her in his life at all.       “I’m gonna give this pole a couple more knocks on the head. Can you fetch the new woodwork?” He nods at the wooden planks, stacked up in the back of his truck, a little further on the driveway.

     Reluctantly, Y/N lets go of the hammer and turns to get the new material for the fence. By the time she brings three new rails over, he has leveled the post with the others still standing. While she holds the board in place, Dean nails it to the post. In order to hold still, Y/N stands close to the head wrangler as he secures the fence. She fixates on the plank she’s holding, trying to ignore the fact that she is seriously invading his personal space. He smells like the damp earth below their feet and a hint of deodorant mixed with hard work; it’s the opposite of a turn-off. Trying to distract herself, she listens to the ticking sound of the head on the pin, until all the new woodwork is mounted to the posts. Sometimes he pauses for just a short second, his gaze burning her skin. Once he’s done, Y/N picks up the broken pieces left by the cattle when they stormed through, and carries them to Dean’s Chevrolet, where she lays the wood down in the cargo bed. Now that she and the handsome wrangler are a few more feet apart, she feels like she can breathe again, missing him close by at the same time. As she leans against the truck, he loads up the last of the wood that he didn’t use for the restoration. Again, his eyes linger on her briefly; the poor guy just cannot help himself, can he? Suddenly she feels bold.

     “Ash was right about one thing, though.”      “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he wonders, as he dusts off his hands.      She grins cheeky, biting her bottom lip. “You are desperate to get in my pants.”      Dean stares at the cowgirl flabbergasted, eyebrows shooting up. Whoa, where the hell did the shy girl go? One question surfaces in the sea of thoughts that her remark triggered; what is her angle? Does she want him to get in her pants? The handsome wrangler scoffs nervously and looks down flustered, as he rubs the back of his neck. But he doesn’t deny it. He can’t.       “What, no comeback?” she nags, expecting either a smart or flirty return.      “There are some things I just can’t argue with,” he chuckles, a blush pushing past the freckles on his cheeks. “Ain’t no reason to get cocky, though.”

     He winks at her flirtatiously, his bright green eyes joined by a smug grin and Y/N cannot help but laugh. Who would have known that she missed Cowboy Casanova? It’s good to see he got his wit back, because he had her worried there for a second. She has spotted the pattern, though. Whenever he is forced to deal with an issue he wants to steer clear of, he dodges the matter by either making fun of the situation or by shutting down completely. So this is his defense mechanism, this is his armor. But beneath all the silence and the horse crap, he admitted straight up that he wants her. Ash might have implied that the head wrangler is only following her like a lost puppy because he wants to keep counting the girls he had in fives, but Y/N knows that’s not all that there is to it. With nothing more than a look, he made it pretty clear he feels something for her that Friday evening after training when they had a moment under the Joshua tree. Now that assumption has been confirmed. 

     As the gears in her head are turning, she begins to walk across the gravel parking lot back to the bunkhouse, but it’s not just her grey matter that is doing overtime. Contemplating his own words, Dean gets behind the wheel of his Chevrolet. The fact is, he wasn’t just flirting. He’s simply telling the truth. But hasn’t that been the case the entire time? The wrangler is hungry for the new ranch hand, he’s pining so bad that selflessness alone is stopping him from running up the driveway and closing her in his arms. Strangely enough, it has nothing to do with sex, or greed, or any other sin, despite what others might think. For a moment, he worries if she might have read into his words just now. He doesn’t want to give her hope, or does he? Fighting his mind, he sighs; he’s so tired he can’t even think straight. 

     With a flip of the key, the engine comes alive, only to drive a couple of hundred yards. After steering the black pickup to a spot next to the shed, Dean leaves the transmission in park. He will unload tomorrow, today he’s calling it quits. A grunt passes his lips when he hoists himself out of the car again. Damn, if his muscles are sore now, he doesn’t want to picture how bad it’s going to hurt in the morning. Maybe a long hot shower will do him good, he definitely needs one to rid himself from the filth he’s covered in.       The head wrangler strolls up the trail that leads to his bed and finds the girl he’s losing himself to, watching the bunkhouse from some distance. When Dean levels with her, he sees why she stopped. On the bottom steps of the porch, two figures sit and talk: one of them is Jo, the other is Ash.       “Well, what do ya know,” Dean huffs, surprised.       Relieved, Y/N smiles. “Seems like he came around. Go talk to him.”

     His chest constricts a little with the thought of the confrontation alone and he hesitates. His friend is most likely still mad at him. What if doesn’t want to settle this? What if he screws it up again?       When Y/N detects that the man next to her is in two minds, she nudges him reassuringly with her shoulder, smiling at him before he gathers enough courage to step forward. The pair are walking up to the steps, when Jo spots them. The cattle worker next to her looks up now too, shame and uneasiness draping his features when he sees the head wrangler. The blonde cowgirl gets to her feet, picking up her hat that she had put down next to her.      “I’ll leave you guys to it,” she says. “Comin’, Yankee?”       Y/N nods and passes Dean, shortly squeezing his arm supportingly as she does.      “Good luck,” she whispers, as she glances over her shoulder.            He nods at her thankfully and takes Jo’s spot on the porch stairs, as the two girls retreat inside. An awkwardness fills the air within seconds, thick and suffocating, yet neither of the men say anything in order to break it. After what feels like minutes of going over what has been said and still needs to be, Ash gets up. Motionless, Dean sits on the step, forearms on his knees, fingers forked together. He hears his friend’s footsteps on the floorboards, followed by the rattling of the bamboo fly curtain and then the eerie silence; Ash has walked away. 

     Pained, Dean closes his eyes and presses the knuckles of his clasped hands against the bridge of his nose. The tightness in his chest that he felt when he realized he had to face his friend has turned into an uncomfortable ache now. It seems to be a recurring theme in his life, people walking out on him. Fuck, why is it so hard to do this? Why can’t he just tell Ash he’s sorry? He takes a breath and lifts his head, staring at the lights coming from the neighbors property, several miles up the road. Then something moves into his peripheral vision and he turns to find a can of PBR beer handed to him. Dean’s eyes move up to see who is holding the beverage, the weight falling off his shoulders when he sees the guy who rocks the mullet. The head wrangler takes the cold refreshment while Ash sits down next to him again. They both open their cans and take a slug of the golden brew. The silence returns, but it’s a much more pleasant one this time. Without saying a word, they’ve made peace. That does not mean, though, that nothing should be said. 

     “Ash?”      “Hmm?”      “I - uh… I’m-–”      “– Yeah, brother. Me too.”

Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part ten here

[semiconducting]

just reflecting on some personal growth stuff from last year !

im actually. genuinely okay. like i think im starting this year feeling okay! which is atypical. 

i think i can attribute it to the enormous amount of work id put into myself over the past year...i remember one year ago being extraordinarily depressed and really just. high strung? incredibly anxious but exhausted. and i fell down a descent slowly from not eating, to getting really irritable and not handling conflicts with friends well, to actively self harming again, to the point where i remembered sitting in a coffee shop with one of my friends and saying out loud that i need to go to therapy. and that i was going to talk to a mutual friend of ours about how the therapy services on campus are. which was a huge step for me! ive always had trust issues with therapy services since i was 12 for reasons i wont go into, but im sure you can gather the point of.

and then, literally the next day after saying that, got news about campus shutting down because of the virus.

and i made all of the effort possible to reach out to my friends and get things figured out to weather the storm because i KNEW shit was going to get bad if i didnt. but only one of my friends was really keeping up, and thats because he and i do homework together so we were already in a rhythm of talking every single week no matter what. and thats not to say that im ungrateful for him or the fact that even still he was there for me while i was going through hell, i have this thing about Not Putting All My Problems On And Confiding In One Person And One Person Only. so i withdrew, i stopped talking to everyone, i stopped logging into my classes, i didnt do any homework, i didnt lead my workshops, didnt hold office hours...i was just wallowing in my own misery

and i made plans to kill myself. and thats like, i mean i could say that several dozen times over the course of a year since i was like 12, but i mean a legitimate walkthrough plan. had my hiking bag packed with everything i was going to use, decided where i was going to, and was going to prep myself for it. wrote drafts and drafts of suicide notes until i decided just leaving the contact info of people who needed to know asap was all i was going to leave. in addition to sticky notes on some stuff in my room for what needed to be returned to who, or if something should go to someone in particular...

and i acted as normally as i could around my housemates. attributed my not leaving my room much to being busy with classes. i have a rule to myself to always sleep at least one night before killing myself because if im really serious about going through with it it can always wait one day. this time i decided i was going to clean my room and leave it as pristine as possible. the last thing i had to do was a load of laundry, and then i was going to do it.

and then someone from campus showed up at my door. because one of my professors filed a report and i hadnt responded to any of the emails id received checking in on me.

so i readjusted. caught up on my schoolwork, just barely finished the semester and definitely didnt do it strong or well (god bless the pass/fail option bc of covid LOL), but i did it nonetheless. went home, started my internship, had a miserably mundane summer.

i grew bitter and apathetic. i was angry at my friends for not being responsive when i reached out to them to talk or hang out or do anything. i got tired of dealing with it. i was tired of feeling alone and like no one gave a shit about me except for when it was convenient for them. i decided that i wasnt going to deal with people who werent willing to put any effort into me, so i stopped talking to everyone and kept up with people who were willing to reach out after the fact.

it’s definitely not the best approach. it’s really unforgiving and it doesn’t give people a lot of benefit of the doubt, but i think it was necessary in some respect. i didn’t have any criteria for how people needed to reach out, or how long after, or whatever, just that they did. really needed people in my life who are willing to communicate with me. i was honest with how i was feeling and why i did things if they did, apologized for the shitty approach, thanked them for still being willing to talk to me, and worked out the best way for both of us to keep things going.

over the months i dont think i really regret the decision, because it’s been a weight off my shoulders. i feel a lot better. i’m far more okay with where i stand in all of my friends’ lives, even if that’s not as a priority and even if that’s as just someone to talk to and catch up with like a couple times a year. it took a bit for it to pay off but it’s nice to take a look at people i was putting far too much work into and upon reflection realizing that they only interacted with me when they needed something from me, and not for me as a person. i think there are still people where there are loose ends and i think i may try reaching out myself to tie those up at some point, whenever i have the energy and clarity of mind for it. but i guess at the end of the day i just decided that people who weren’t willing to communicate weren’t worth the time. i’m okay if that communication means i need to be the one to initiate conversations even! i just need to know that.

but yeah. i came back to ny and started the semester totally apathetic and angry. i was so fucking depressed and bored with everything even if i was keeping myself incredibly busy. the only thing that i found rewarding (and what was just barely keeping me going) was leading my workshop for the intro optics class. 

and then a friend -- the same friend i was at the coffee shop with -- reached out to catch up. and i was honestly really bitter and angry with him and was prepping myself to start listing out issues that i hadnt been able to address with him beforehand (side note, while telling friends the issues you have with them is important, listing shit out all at once is hardly ever a good approach especially without warning LOL) but ended up...just having a calming and comfortable conversation about what was going on in our lives since we last saw each other. 

n later that day i ended up reaching out to an old friend that i had been meaning to catch up with because we fell out of contact, but had just barely been trying to start talking again in the months before this but had kept missing opportunities to properly converse. but we talked again, and we set up a day to hike and catch up.

and he comes to my house and picks me up. and i get in his car. and its like, holy shit, its been almost a year since ive seen you. and we hugged. and just started to catch each other up on the mess that had been our lives since we’d actively been in contact. we hiked, he told me about the books he wanted to write, we talked about people we knew, we talked about politics, we talked about school, we talked about life, and it was just as comfortable as if not a day had passed...even though it was obvious that he and i were both changed people over the past year. nothing about our friendship was any different though.

we resolved to hanging out with each other every week. decided we both needed the interaction, appreciated having each other around, and had a nice overlap of free time in the week that worked well. friday nights unless otherwise specified.

it was totally unexpected. he’d always been a great friend to me, but i never expected us to get as close as we did. neither did he. he’s probably the first person in my life (or at least in a very long time, and certainly the only person at the time) that i’d been so comfortable with that i practically had no boundaries around. none that needed to be addressed, anyway, because the only possible ones to throw up wouldn’t even come up (but of course, i constantly reassured that as soon as anything came up i would let him know because early on he kept asking sjhdkjfh). 

he became something for me to look forward to in the week. towards the beginning he was a shoulder to lean on when i needed it and was willing to listen to things i hadn’t been able to tell anyone out loud. and he confided in me as well. it was comfortable. it was safe. it was a level of trust with vulnerability that i’d never shown anyone else. 

but it wasnt even just that! it was fun! hes so fun. we could talk about everything and nothing, and hes one of the only people where i feel like i have to keep up with him in conversation instead of the other way around. we’d jump from topic to topic so much faster than either of us could think and it was all always so interesting. littered with humour that was just dumb and simple. i felt comfortable just being an idiot with him. i felt like i had nothing to prove. 

for the past few years ive held to the sentiment that i like to hang around with people that make me a better person. but somehow, with him, its not that i felt like he made me a better person, but that he made me more myself. he saw who i was without any kind of fronts. and i always was afraid to show anyone that me because i always assumed that they would be depressing, loathsome, bitter, angry, and vicious.

but....i’m not. i learned that i’m incredibly loving. that i’d do fuckin anything to for my friends, but always in a way that was healthy and rewarding for both of us. i’m very light-hearted and my sense of humour is so stupid, but also very analytical and thoughtful. just a bit judgmental and pretentious, but always for things that people dont expect. totally open minded in discussions. an avid explorer, and a bit of a thrillseeker. and so, so, so affectionate.

i realized im. not as horrible as ive always made myself out to be. i accepted that i didnt need to punish myself for things beyond my control. i realized that i could believe people when they tell me that they enjoy my company, or appreciate things i do for them, or that they think i’m a worthwhile person to keep around. 

its not that i dont have my flaws, its not that there arent things that i have to work on still. but maybe, at my core, i’m not actually motivated by spite, i’m not actually a hopeless pessimist, and that i’m not...broken. i’m not some secretly irredeemable monster.

and for a period of time i’ve been in a place where i could say i was genuinely...happy! and i don’t think i’ve ever been able to say that. i’ve certainly been made happy by doing things with friends in the past, i’ve been through periods where i’ve been okay with where i am at in life, but ever since i was like 12 (but probably even before that) i’d never been able to say that i was happy. it’s not that i wasn’t stressed, it’s not that things in my life were all going perfectly....but they didn’t define my mood. they didn’t define my view of myself. school, despite being the primary focus of my life, wasn’t dictating how i was feeling. even when things were agonizing and depressing because of school, i was still okay. i was incredibly stable.

and i owe that all to him being there for me. and hardly any of these things were anything that he was really directly responsible for, like its not that he sat there and just constantly showered me in reassurance and praise or anything that changed how i view myself...it was just having his company. it was just being able to sit there and listen to him go on about some totally random thing that he was exceptionally knowledgeable about. it was exploring caves and climbing hills. it was cooking together. it was talking about science. it was talking about love. it was talking about music. it was just having a consistent presence in my life, someone that treated me like a priority but never at the expense of himself, and someone i didn’t have to walk on any kind of eggshells around. it was someone who trusted me and respected me not by anything id done to warrant it, but just because of who i was. 

it was a reminder that i can take care of my own problems, that i just need to be a good presence in someone’s life and for them to be a good presence in mine.

but also that i can accept help from people who genuinely want to offer it! and that that help doesnt always have to be direct. that sometimes helping me means i get to do something nice for someone else LOL

it was everything i ever needed and i wasnt even looking for it. he meant the world to me and i was so, so thankful for the circumstances that led us here because i was so happy to have him in my life again. i was happy that we were able to get closer because we’d only been able to interact in professional environments before.

and then i realized i was in love. and i had a sexuality crisis. but i didn’t recognize it until i fell hard because it was a different kind of love than i’ve felt for anyone before. it was intense but entirely too comfortable. but i knew that i cared about him, and that he cared about me, and that i really didn’t need anything about our friendship to change but that it had potential to be something even greater than it was.

and i resolved to tell him about it...until he told me first. and that moment was, as cheesey as it sounds, nothing less than magical. we were both so happy and giggly and it was so sweet and warm and i dont know if im ever going to be able to recreate that feeling because it was just so particular, so specific to being something between me and him. its not that i cant love anyone else as strongly or be as happy as i was necessarily, but it’ll never be that same kind of feeling.

but things happened. things got complicated. i think he panicked. and then things that happened just felt so dirty and hollow and dark. he hurt me really, really, really badly, and it managed to happen in the span of four days.

and i’ve spent the last <2 weeks dealing with it. i think he’s dealing with it in his own ways, but realistically i don’t know how because i havent seen him since christmas eve, and we were both definitely not being completely genuine that day. was at his house for a small family party and he and i were the only ones who knew what happened. it was too soon to have healed from it any, but we couldnt exactly be honest about it then either.

and im doing better. im genuinely okay now. and, interestingly, i think i owe it to the past few months of hanging out with him and how ive been able to come to terms with a lot of things about myself. ive been able to show myself compassion. its really ironic.

its a situation where i was desperately trying to throw blame onto myself for, because if i could then i could punish myself for it and use it to fuel that deep rooted self hatred and then i could fix it, because i’d be the one responsible for fixing it. but, and i’ve talked to quite a few friends about it trying to figure out who to confide in about it, everyone who knows about it insists that i cant blame myself for it. theres not a thing about the situation that i can blame myself for. and its so fucking weird, because i cant bring myself to fully blame him for it either, just because it was so ABSURDLY out of character that it doesnt feel like it was anything he could have done to me. it was a boundary that i wasnt ever supposed to worry about him crossing, because he’s just not that kind of person.

and it’s the type of situation that you’re supposed to totally be willing to cut someone off for but...i can’t. he’s genuinely remorseful and i think he doesn’t really know how to deal with it either. and despite it being a massive fuck up its still like...the first fuck up in our friendship from either of us. and i’m willing to see this through. i think it’s salvageable, even if it’ll never be the same as it was. i have faith in our friendship. i think we can make it work.

but no matter what happens. i owe him more than i’ll ever be able to repay him for. and i’ll never, ever be able to hate him because of that. i’m in a much, much better place because of him and for that i’ll always be thankful.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Twenty-Nine

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Trigger warnings for torture, grief, excessive drinking

Sorin stared out the window. Being in angel territory always left Sorin restless. He didn’t belong, and while he had faith that he and Cyrus could handle anything, the rejection was strong.

“You’re going to be on your best behavior, right?” Cyrus asked as he parked the car.

“I’ll be fine,” Sorin muttered.

“Promise? This isn’t a bar fight I can fish you out of if you get pissy, Sorin. These are powerful people we’re talking to. Are you sure you’re ready?” Cyrus’ warm face was scrunched with stress, and his ringed fingers held onto the steering wheel far too tightly for comfort.

“I’m in control,” Sorin promised, getting out of the car. “And I’m not walking away from this. I’ve come too far.”

Cyrus caught up with Sorin by the time he made it to the front steps. When Cyrus grabbed Sorin’s hand, he didn’t complain, just knocked on the front door.

A very tall ginger opened the door. Glowing green eyes pinned Sorin in place, and Sorin felt disturbingly seen. Only Cyrus’ hand squeezing his kept Sorin from bristling. “Who are you?” This angel said, mouth quirking slightly. “And why should I care.”

Sorin opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He didn’t trust himself to say anything, so he let Cyrus take the lead. The witch was a lot more of a soothing presence than Sorin and his flickering temper.

“My name is Cyrus. This is my mate, Sorin.” Cyrus squeezed Sorin’s hand again. “We’re here to request an audience with Baylor? Amara Claire sent us.”

The angel gave a laugh. “You’re not going to get anywhere with him if you call him Baylor. Or mention that Amara sent you.”

Cyrus didn’t even bat an eye, which was better than Sorin would have managed. “That was the name we were given,” Cyrus said apologetically. “We’re looking for an angel. Remiel, I think Amara said? He-” Cyrus paused, and then said, as delicately as possible, “He killed Sorin’s cousin a few years ago. We’re not looking for trouble, or to pick fights. Just some closure.”

“I don’t know how much closure you’re going to get; Remiel is dead.”

Sorin tried not to flinch. “Dead how?” He demanded. “When?”

The angel leaned against the doorway. “Tortured, I imagine. You’re a few months too late.”

“Tortured?” Cyrus echoed, blinking several times. “I highly doubt it was for what he’s done to demons in the past. What for, then?”

Sorin barely heard him. Dead? Amara must have known, so why would she send them on this stupid wild goose chase? And how the fuck was he supposed to find closure when the person who killed Fax was dead? Sorin didn’t even know why.

“Sucks, doesn’t it? Not being able to find closure,” the angel said. His eyes weren’t glowing anymore, were practically dull, but he still fixed Sorin with a stare that was far too knowing.

“This is a waste of time,” Sorin said abruptly. “Let’s go, Cy. I’ll- angels aren’t going to help us. I told you that.”

“Sorin,” Cyrus sighed, looking pained.

“I just wanted to know why,” Sorin said. He hunched his shoulders. “Fax just fucking gardened. He collected cats and he sat in his stupid fucking flowers and made moony eyes at that stupid angel he was sleeping with. I wanted to know why. He didn’t do anything.”

If Sorin didn’t know better, the ginger angel looked a little pained too. Which. That didn’t make any fucking sense. “You can talk to Bay, if you want. I’m sure he has plenty to say on the matter.”

Cyrus’ grip had moved to Sorin’s upper arm. “Thank you,” Cyrus said. “We appreciate it.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” the angel replied with a bland smile. “Bay’s about as pissy as your omega is.”

Sorin told himself that the small hiss he let out was because Cyrus dug his fingers in Sorins arm. Of course, that was because Sorin’s magic leapt with Sorin’s temper. But. Still. Cyrus didn’t let go of Sorin until the angel turned to lead them inside and upstairs. Sorin kept close to Cyrus, trying to ignore the weight of the sentries’ stares on them as the angel led them to what looked like a nursery.

“Bay,” the angel announced in an almost threateningly cheerful tone. “You have visitors.”

Sorin zeroed in on the small omega in the rocking chair, who was incredibly tense even with the sleeping infant on his chest. Sorin forced himself to relax; he didn’t know much about angel children, but demon children were incredibly sensitive to the room’s emotions. He didn’t want to wake it up and have to deal with the crying, too.

“What do you want?” Bay said.

Not the welcome Sorin would have liked, but expected. He leaned into Cyrus, seeking both comfort from his mate, and to seem less like a threat. Once again he let Cyrus take the lead. Cyrus repeated their stupid quest for knowledge in his usual calm tone.

Somehow Bay’s expression shifted from defensive to more tired. “We branded Remiel a traitor and gave him over to Cameron Luaine. What he did after that isn’t my business.”

Sorin slid his hand in Cyrus’ pocket, seeking stability. Why- that didn’t make any sense. Cyrus, to his credit, seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he asked quietly, “Why would you brand one of your own a traitor and hand him over to a demon?”

“Remiel tortured Cameron’s omega,” Bay said. “And it was inexcusable.”

Sorin damn near bit his tongue clean through to keep himself from speaking. It didn’t work. “Why would you care about a demon’s omega?” he blurted. For that matter, why did they let Sorin, a demon, walk in here and start demanding answers.

“Are you suggesting I don’t care about my brother’s feelings?” Bay asked dryly.

That pulled Sorin and Cyrus both to a stop. “We didn’t realize you were Cameron’s brother,” Cyrus finally said. “We didn’t mean any offense. We’re just trying to understand the full picture at this point. It’s the only way I can think of to help Sorin move on.”

“Cameron’s omega was an angel,” Bay said tiredly. “An angel Remiel abused.”

Cyrus seemed properly discomforted and upset, but all Sorin could think to say was, “Levant?” He shook his head. “Fax- Fax was infatuated with an angel. Levant. They got all domestic and shit.” Things were starting to make a lot more sense now. “Do you think I could talk to Levant? Or would I have to ask Cameron, not you?” Not ideal, but neither was walking into an angel’s house for answers, so really, what was the cost?

“Only if you can speak to the dead. Otherwise, no.”

Oh. “Did Remiel kill him?” Sorin asked without thinking. Cyrus’ fingers tapped a warning on his side, but Sorin had eyes only for Bay. He needed these answers. Not knowing was eating him alive.

“No. It was a family matter.” There was a particular emphasis on the word family, a twinge of contempt that Sorin couldn’t quite interpret.

When Sorin managed to keep his big mouth shut this time, Cyrus said lightly, “Thank you for your time. We’re sorry for intruding the way we did, but you’ve been more helpful than we could have hoped. It seems Amara sent us on a bit of a wild goose chase; she seemed to imply there was more.”

Bay’s expression shifted to annoyance in a heartbeat. “You should have known better,” Bay said. “Amara knows exactly what she’s doing, and she knows plenty. Lev was her cousin.”

“I was told to go to the mutt for answers,” Sorin muttered. “That she’d be able to help. Should have known it was bullshit.”

“First of all, do not call her that. Second of all, yes. You wasted your time.”

Sorin opened his mouth, and then shut it again, without prompting from Cyrus this time. “Sorry,” he finally said.

“I’m sure you are,” Bay said flatly.

Sorin winced. There was no point in insisting he was; he’d sound too defensive, and he was sure that explaining that he’d heard her called the mutt so many times he hadn't thought to consider it was offensive wouldn’t get him anywhere. In the end he just said, “Thank you, again. For explaining.” He started backing for the door.

“Next time you deal with Amara, make sure you get all the facts,” Bay ordered from his rocking chair.

Sorin made a face, but just took Cyrus’ hand as they made their way downstairs and out the door uncontested. Back to square one. Again.

--

Cameron was leaned back against the table, watching the traitor wheeze and choke on blood while Sazra healed him, yet again. He had already gotten everything out of Sage, at least, anything useful, which was not much. He had literally nothing on Destris or his whereabouts, or even why he was back in town. Though, Cameron figured Des was back in town because of Eden, and to punish Cameron for stealing his crown. He wanted to break Cameron’s toys all over again.

When Sazra was finished healing him, she disappeared out of the room without a word while Cameron stood in front of the sentry with his arms folded. A bloodied head lolled back against the steel chair, bloodshot and swollen deep violet eyes met his. “Just kill me,” he rasped. “I’ve told you everything. Everything.”

Cameron’s sharp smile made the sentry whimper.

“Oh I know,” Cameron said. “I broke you days ago, and I’m going to keep breaking you for as long as I feel like it.”

“I- he made me. He made me. He said he could provide for my fam-”

“The same family I was providing for?” Cameron asked, mildly. “Yes, you told me. And how does it feel knowing that that family is now dead.”

Sage swallowed thickly. “They didn’t do anything.”

“And neither did Lev,” Cameron said, bored. “And neither did Nik. But now I have to deal with the ramifications of your betrayal because my brother made you a promise that I was already making? An empty promise on his part, I might add. Since everyone in your household is now dead. And no one was there to stop me. Including my brother.”

Black tears streaked down Sage’s face. Either out of grief or anger. Cameron wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t quite care either. “You’re a monster,” Sage spat. “It was easy. You preach about not forgiving the angels and then bring them into your bed. A cruel man who thinks he can force his way into everyone’s world through blood and violence.”

Cameron snorted. “You make it sound like this is news to me. I can multitask.” He leaned over and dug his nails into Sage’s bound arms. “And I don’t think,” he said, softly. “I know. My kill count, is far, far superior to yours.”

Sage was trembling under his fingers, fear nearly coming out of his pores. Cameron tongued one of his fangs and straightened, going over to the table where his tools were. He traced a finger down a set of obsidian pliers. “First was the wife,” Cameron said. He picked the pliers up and eyed them. “You were trying for another child, were you not? Did it take?” Cameron didn’t give him a chance to reply. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Not like she’s going to be giving birth to anything anytime soon.”

Cameron came over and started yanking off finger nails. Sage tried his hardest to not make a sound, despite the pathetic whine that still managed to slip between his bloodied lips. “I bit her,” Cameron said. “Venom and all. And then I ripped her apart. She kept asking why I was in her house, what she did to upset me. Offered me all the money I could want. We both know I do not need money,” he said, with a final savage yank to the last finger. “I do not want it. I have enough blood money to drown you with.”

Fresh tears streamed down Sage’s face. Cameron could almost have sworn that he could hear the demon’s heart racing in his chest. Cameron lightly patted his cheek, in what he meant was supposed to be sympathy- at least, that was the way Nik seemed to do it. He didn’t know; didn’t care. “And your brats. What were their names- right. Rikard and Arlie.” The pure, unbridled rage in Sage’s eyes at the mention of his children’s names did absolutely nothing for Cameron, except for a small amount of satisfaction. “I did you the mercy, however, of killing them before their mother. I cannot imagine how horrifying it would have been,” he said, “To see your own mother being ripped apart like that.” Then again, his mother- well. He really couldn’t imagine it. At Sage’s small, wounded snarl, Cameron smiled. “You’re welcome. It’s a kindness,” Cameron said, continuing to take Sage apart piece by piece, “And I spared them from that.”

Every single word out of his mouth was a lie. It was as easy as breathing air, to get this look from Sage, from someone that Cameron had been generous to, giving him the protection, the resources, giving his family the protection, the resources. Sage made the foolish choice of believing his brother, and he was making an idiotic choice to actaully believe what Cameron was saying. He had killed all three of them in quick brutal blows while they were asleep. Not a sound had come from them before he had left the house and returned home that day.

Cameron stepped back, looking over his work- at the demon’s skin soaked in black blood and tears, voice hoarse and ragged as he tried breathing through blood filled lungs. Cameron once again called for Sazra, had her heal him, before checking the time. It was closing in on time to go make sure Nik hadn’t killed himself yet. Instead of picking right back up, Cameron decidedly bit down on Sage’s throat, sending venom into his bloodstream, and went back upstairs.

-----

Ash was still bitter about a good number of things this past week. Between not being able to save Lev and Bay growling and threatening to bite him anytime he went near Lucas, to his wife also being pissy in her pregnancy, Ash was going to lose his damn mind, especially when he was now hauling a wasted and bleeding Nik from yet another bar fight. “How the fuck are you this wounded,” Ash demanded, dropping Nik down on the couch. “I thought you were good at fighting.”

He could feel Nik looking up at him. Damn near had a clear image of Nik’s face just through the number of wounds on his skin. “That,” Nik said, barely intelligible, “Is the point.”

Ash gave him a flat look and pointed at him. “I am not your mother, Nikolas. I swear, if you keep doing this I will beat your ass. Do not expect me to heal you from this.”

Nik’s drunken, half smile sent a streak of fire down Ash’s spine. “Do you really think Mami would actually be helping me right now?”

“Pity party does not look good on you,” Ash said, ignoring the obvious bait that Nik was trying to set him off with.

Nik shrugged and crumbled back against the couch. “Everything looks good on me,” he sighed, turning into the couch.

Oh no you don’t, Ash thought.

He yanked Nik up so he was sitting and looking up at him. “We’re not finished,” he warned, listening to the footsteps coming into the doorway. Just by the scent of apples and lavender, he knew it was Nate. “Your brother can yell at you, now.”

Nik’s eyes crinkled, despite being completely void of any real emotion. “Can’t wait,” he said. “Maybe you can call Adrien and Amara and my parents in too. I’m sure you all want your turn lecturing me on what a horrible person I am.”

Ash rolled his eyes, but stepped to the side when Nate came in and went to sit next to his brother. He could sense Nate looking Nik over, the concern mixed with exasperation was clear in his scent. “You’re going to give me a heart attack,” Nate sighed.

“I’m sure you’ll live,” Nik said. “Now if you both excuse me,” - Nik was struggling to his feet, only for Nate to hook a hand in him and shove him back down onto the couch. “Will you both stop it, I’m fine,” Nik snapped. “I’m alive, aren’t I.”

Both he and Nate said, “Debatable.”

“I think you want to make yourself as miserable as possible,” Nate said. “You can’t bring him back, and the guilt is eating you alive. Nik- he. Lev wouldn’t want you to be killing yourself like this.”

“Good thing about being dead,” Nik said, coldly, “Don’t have to want anything.” He tried getting up and this time Nate let him, but Ash hooked his fingers in Nik’s forearm before he could land flat on his face, trying to storm past him. “Let me go.”

Ash forced his healing magic into Nik, healing the cuts, the bruises, the broken and fractured bones, before moving to Nik’s booze soaked brain and healing it. “That’ll do it,” Ash said, letting Nik go when Nik was stone cold sober again.

Nik shoved Ash hard enough Ash nearly fell back a few feet. He retaliated and shoved Nik down on the couch before Nate instantly was moving to get between the two of them. “Both of you- stop it right now. I will not ask again.”

“I did not say you could heal me,” Nik snapped.

“Oh no,” Ash said, unfazed. “Whatever will you do now that you’re sober and not a walking corpse. Maybe thank me instead of letting your ass die of alcohol poisoning?”

“You only healed me to piss me off, you fucker.”

Ash smiled. “You caught me.”

Nik snarled at him, and Ash bared his teeth, but Nate seemed to struggle on what side of the argument he fell on. Finally he said, “You both need to stop it. Just- I am dealing with a newborn on top of a grieving Silas and just- it is not anyone’s fault that Lev is dead,” he said, sharply. “Nik, you need to stop being this damn pathetic mess that I know you are better than. I am tired of cleaning up after you and I am tired of having to listen to Ash bitch and moan about you off trying to kill yourself. If I had half the mind, I’d sicc Adrien on you.” Adrien, who didn’t touch drugs or alcohol in any capacity- outside of cigarettes.

“Ah yes,” Nik deadpanned. “Sic the alpha with even more anger issues than me and Ash combined on me. Fan- fucking- tastic idea.”

Nate went quiet just long enough for Ash to clear his vision in time to see Nate get to his feet and shove Nik against the wall, tattooed fingers digging tight into Nik’s leather jacket. “I am trying to help you,” he whispered harshly. “Ash is trying to help you. Lev-” His voice cut off instantly and he looked so pained.

Nik looked up at his brother. “Can you see Lev?”

“No,” Nate said. Ash narrowed his eyes, but Nate continued, “No I can’t. He- must have moved on.”

Ash couldn’t tell if Nik looked even more grief-stricken or relieved. He let out a ragged breath before pushing against Nate. “Let me go. I want to go home. Cam’s probably gonna get pissy that I’m not there to eat his damn food.”

Nate seemed to hesitate, but reluctantly let Nik go. “If I let you leave this house, you go home,” he said. “Promise?”

Nik straightened his jacket and put a hand over his heart. “Oh, you have my word,” he said, solemnly.

Nate sighed tiredly. “Ash, keep an eye on things while I drive him home.”

“Have fun,” Ash said. “I’ll go get glared at by Bay.”

------

Bay was so damn bone tired, and it didn’t help that he was still so raw from being cut open, but he hadn’t let Nate or Ash help him with Lucas. He nearly tore Ash’s arm off with his teeth for going anywhere near his baby. Nate may or may not have had to stop him before Ash got an armful of teeth.

Lucas was so quiet on his chest, so small, while he carried him to the nursery. The sentries didn’t move from their posts and barely acknowledged them as Bay went past them to push open the nursery door. Eden was standing up in the crib, small fingers clenched into the bars while she hammered on, “DADADADADADA” again and again.

Bay sighed deeply and carefully went to lay his very quiet, very well behaved baby down in his crib before going to pick up the tiny monster rocking back and forth. He was careful about reopening his wounds as he went to change her and get her cleaned up. “Are you just going to live here from now on,” Bay asked, struggling her into a onesie.

She kept up her babbling over his shoulder as he picked her back up again, getting ready to put her down for the night. He had been following Cameorn’s schedule, just to keep Cameron from getting too pissy about it. They both had enough to worry about, and he didn’t feel like listening to Cameron bitch when he had a newborn to take care of, on top of Cameron’s kid.

Bay settled her on his chest and got the bottle into her mouth. She seemed to settle quickly, her attention elsewhere while he rocked her and fed her. After she finished her bottle, and he got her into bed, he double checked the temperature before going to settle on the couch with a blanket. Bay’s eyes closed slowly with the thought of Nate having to come get him for bed.

Again.

-------

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