#just woke up to find its 2016 all over again

[lucreziaces]

thought i hated this country in 2016 but i’ve never fucking hated this country more than i do right now. how can you all be so full of hatred and claim to be christian?!???

[mariacallous]

Tomorrow is Election Day, the last day of voting in this tumultuous 2024 campaign. What a long, strange trip it's been. Just a year ago, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis was challenging former president Trump for the GOP nomination by saying the word "woke" at least a hundred times a day while former South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley competed for what's left of the "normie" Republican vote. A clown car full of grifters and kooks, meanwhile, used the primaries as an opportunity to suck up to Trump, whom everyone knew would inevitably be the nominee. After all, he'd been running non-stop since 2015.

Meanwhile on the Democratic side, incumbent president Joe Biden was an unchallenged shoo-in for the Democratic nomination. Most people felt he'd probably be able to replicate his 2020 win despite being unpopular due to a lingering hangover from the pandemic. After all, Trump had incited an insurrection and was facing lawsuits and felony trials in federal court and two different states stemming from a variety of alleged crimes. Surely, he couldn't possibly win after all that?

In the year since, Biden was revealed to be just too old to run for president again and was replaced by his younger vice president, Kamala Harris, who sparked a massive rise in enthusiasm among Democrats. Trump, meanwhile, has shown that his millions-strong cult of personality is fully intact and they are ecstatic about putting him back in the White House in spite of his many flaws (maybe even because of them.) We could find out the winner as soon as tomorrow night — or maybe not.

If it's as close as many of the pollsters say it is it could take a while before we know the final results. And it goes without saying that unless they call the race for him right away, Trump is planning to cry "fraud" and will do everything in his power to create the illusion that he won regardless of the count. So we can expect chaos. He's made that very clear.

The polls have more or less shown a tied race nationally and in the swing states for the past couple of months. Whether that's correct or not, we don't know. Because they missed some Trump voters in 2016 and 2020, everyone is on edge that the same thing has happened again despite the pollsters' going out of their way to correct the problem this time. With the polls this close that error could translate to a repeat of 2016 which has a whole lot of people losing sleep these last few weeks.

But something unexpected happened this past weekend that may have called those assumptions into question. The Des Moines Register poll, considered one of the best in all of politics due to pollster J. Ann Selzer's excellent track record, dropped its final poll of the cycle and it landed like a nuclear bomb. Iowa is a solid red state and the previous poll had Trump winning the state handily as expected. Now the numbers showed Harris beating Trump 47 - 44. Boom.

Iowa is one of the whitest states in the union, so race isn't a factor which makes it an interesting proxy for white voters in other swing states with similar populations (like Wisconsin, Michigan and Pennsylvania, for instance.) While Trump has maintained his base of men, evangelical voters, rural residents and non-college-educated voters, the poll found that women, specifically older and politically independent women, have swung in large numbers to Harris. And just as surprising, Harris is winning voters over 65, which has been a GOP base vote for decades. What in the world does this mean?

First, it's pretty clear that reproductive rights are driving this race for a whole lot of people. Iowa, in particular, is now living under a draconian six-week abortion ban that was upheld by its far-right Supreme Court last summer. Justice Samuel Alito wrote in his notorious opinion that "women are not without electoral or political power." It appears we may be about to find out the truth of that.

People expected that younger women would vote in large numbers on this issue but there seems to be some surprise that older women would be motivated to do so. Ohio Senate candidate Bernie Moreno was caught on video bemoaning the "single issue" women voters and wondering why women over 50 would care about it.

I guess it's hard for right-wingers to understand why anyone would care about someone other than themselves. But it's more than that. The reversal of Roe v. Wade was deeply offensive to many women of all ages, something we could only see as a direct attack on our basic human rights by a group of men (and one very conservative woman) determined to turn back the clock to a time when women were literally second class citizens. Women can see where this is leading and it isn't toward freedom and equality — for any of us.

The Republican Party and its leader, a predator found legally liable for sexual assault, is running for election on a platform of flagrant misogyny. Donald Trump literally said, 'I was able to kill Roe v. Wade' until he belatedly realized it wasn't popular, at which point he came up with his fatuous rationale that "everyone wanted it to go back to the states." That is utterly absurd and most people know it. He's lately taken to saying that he'll be women's "protector" which, coming from him, is more of a threat. In fact, in recent days he's said that he'll  do it "whether the women like it or not."

Then you have his choice for running mate, JD Vance, who thinks that women should stay in abusive marriages, thinks abortion should be banned nationally even in cases of rape and incest and wants to prevent women from traveling out of state to obtain them (he now denies knowing about such efforts). And he famously believes that "childless cat ladies" are the cause of everything wrong in our culture and agrees that "the whole purpose of the post-menopausal female is child care."

And people are surprised that women of all ages are refusing to vote for these people?

This Iowa poll may be an outlier and all the chatter about this remarkable result will end up being nothing more than election year lore. Most analysts still seem to think that it's nearly impossible to believe that Harris will actually win Iowa. But this poll is one of the very few that caught the hidden angry non-college-educated Trump vote in 2016 and 2020. There is every reason to believe that it may be catching the hidden pissed-off college-educated and independent women Harris vote in 2024. Nothing would be more satisfying than for this voting block to be the one to spell the end of Donald Trump's political career. 

[makingspiritualityreal]

"Passangers", freedom from Guilt and the Spiritual Purpose of Mrigashira Nakshatra

"Passengers" is a 2016 film, starring two Mrigashira Nakshatra natives. Suffice it to say, this post will contain major spoilers for the plot of the film, so you should watch it first. My writing is more about exploring the meaning behind the events than the plot itself, which is relatively simple and involves a basic romantic theme of falling in love in outer space.

The motive of Mrigashira Nakshatra has many angles to explore, but in this text I would like to look at how important this Nakshatra, and Mars Nakshatras in general are in the context of the order of the zodiac wheel, with Moon coming before, and Rahu coming after.

To sum up the background events, that become the stage for all the action to happen. A spaceship is planned to be travelling for centuries over a very long distance to reach another habitable planet in a different galaxy. Everyone is hibernated on the ship, supposed to awaken shortly before arrival, looking forward to enjoying a blissful life on a virgin land, full of opportunity. However, the prospect of the idyllic future is disturbed, when the ship malfunctions, waking up one of the passengers mid-journey, sentencing him to a lone death.

The film goes through various plot twists and turns, exploring the theme of loneliness, desire to return to sleep, initial unwillingness to face the harsh reality, forbidden romance, as the desperate protagonist forcibly wakes up a female passenger to comfort him, unable to hold back his attraction to her despite feelings of guilt. Their relationship goes through a major crisis as the female Mrigashira native finds out her male counterpart essentially sentenced her to death to cope with his own desperate situation. But all of these squabbles lose their meaning in face of a real disaster - it turns out the whole ship has been malfunctioning since the beginning of the journey, and the whole operation is headed for collapse, endangering lives of thousands of people.

That piece of information becomes a turning point, not just for the process of saving lives of the whole ship, but a turning point for the protagonists' relationship that leads to forgiveness and absolution from guilt and loneliness. Because they now know, that the whole ship was in danger to begin with, and anyone who woke up before the planned arrival of the trip was in fact saving everybody else's life. Because they now know, that if it weren't for their sacrifice, everybody would have been lost. They now know, that their life and suffering had a purpose.

This brings us to the point of really understanding Mrigashira. The purpose of this Nakshatra is Moksha, spiritual liberation. Such Nakshatras always bring with them a theme of sacrifice, doing something difficult selflessly for the bigger picture, not for recognition but to right wrongs, that we might not even see repaired in our lifetime, instead offering them to future generations. Mrigashira is the only Mars ruled Nakshatra with such a mission. Even though all Mars Nakshatras like to take a stand and prove a point, Chitra does it for the purpose of Kama, social status and to win social games, Dhanishta for the purpose of Dharma, power, accomplishment and order, again with the goal of coming out on top. Mrigashira has an element of selflessness acquired through pain of loss and unbearable circumstances.

Outside of the context of the film, it teaches us how essential Mrigashira natives are for the survival of the human soul. In the previous Rohini stage, we are blissfully unaware and happy about it, as the Moon is barely developing its sensorium enough to feel and appreciate its surroundings. But Mrigashira points out to us, that something was wrong with the whole situation to begin with, and is willing to take a stand at the cost of its own life to change that. It brings to light major spiritual dysfunction in pre-existing, established systems, that would have otherwise led towards annihilation coming from unconsciousness. Mars Nakshatras call out the Moon Nakshatra stage on the fact, that while enjoyment within reason is acceptable, unconsciousness never is, and coming from Rohini to Mrigashira, it has deadly consequences for the soul.

However, awakening into consciousness and breaking down one's own selfish, attention grabbing tactics from the Moon stage is painful, something the ego struggles to let go of, initially, and something your environment definitely doesn't support, as you're the awakening one amongst the sleeping. As a result, one might feel like there is something wrong with them for being forced to upset the status quo...but in time, life reveals a plan larger than one's own life, that leads to progress and freedom for humanity. Life reveals truth, the serpent in the garden of Eden, that was trying to bring awareness to the events from behind the scenes all along.

Rahu Nakshatras only have the power to invent, create and move humanity forward because Mars Nakshatras stood up for something first. Ardra can only preach its truths, because Mrigashira stood up for that truth and opened the Pandora's box of these truths.

Mrigashira teaches us, that it's not ok, spiritually, to be unconscious. It teaches us that it's better to know the truth even if no one believes you, than to spend your life asleep, unaware of the evil lurking in the shadows. It teaches us that there is no such thing as perfection and life of value if it hasn't been earned, fought for and won. It teaches us that all things worth having need to be purified first, because now you know you can preserve these precious things even in face of opposition, so your enjoyment is well deserved. If you are a Mrigashira native, and you don't suffer from any afflictions to this Nakshatra, remember, most of the time if you feel something is wrong, you're right, and there is a larger purpose behind it. You're cleaning up a bigger mess than you know.

[elusivefieldofstars]

Eulogy written by forever Directioner

New teardrops and wounds for the approaching colourless winter…

How strange and somehow powerful it is to feel pain over the departure of someone you haven't met, but who enriched your life in a beautiful way, and loved to do it knowing that it would go around the world and reach someone, as it reached me…

All the memories of vibrant youthful days, and those lonely ones have awakened and feel so near and unattainable. Memories of eagerly waiting for a new performance or a new anecdote that would become part of our common language that erases all boundaries and is recognized by every Directioner. Memories of daydreaming with your music as the soundtrack to every creative scenario on the bus ride after high school, dreaming one day I would go to your concert, meet you and thank you for everything.

Over time, life wounded, disappointed, removed the dreamy fog from the horizon, so those reveries, now far away, could only cause a smile and a sigh of naive realization that my reality was far from that… But it could not diminish the space in my heart that you have founded, occupied and bravely defended with your anthems brimming with sentiment for all of us who cherished the special life’s gem we found in you, our grandiose quintet.

It felt like One Direction lit up this world and woke up a lot of slumberous, sensitive souls and united us like sunflowers turning to its light.

After 2016, it felt like we dispersed like dandelion’s seeds, scattered like a meteor shower, in search of some other stories. We were all supposed to grow where the wind took us and then all gather again, taken home. To tell each other at new concerts everything we lived through during the time apart, singing new songs together and remembering the good old days through those familiar verses...

It shouldn’t be like this. Great emptiness, with great weight. It could never feel complete without you, dear Liam.

You should have been the hero of your story, overcoming the obstacles and bad influences, finding lasting happiness with the power of your will and the right support.

Your warmth overflowed every screen and speaker, embraced us and offered encouragement and comfort. How much love for you blossomed now, and was always present. If only this worldly one could have been enough... Now your departure hurts and the longing will always be present listening to songs knowing that we will not hear your voice again... yet art is eternal...

I am finishing my unsolicited dedication... And the verses that you sang so kindheartedly, responsibly, devotedly, with emotion, can partly express what I feel.

"You've got stars, they're in your eyes and I've got something missing tonight…Right now everything is new to me. I want to write you a song, one that's beautiful as you are sweet with just a hint of pain for the feeling that I get when you are gone. Had the best time, and now it's the worst time. But we have to say goodbye... Goodbyes are bittersweet, but it's not the end…

Once in a lifetime, we can live forever…"

-`♡´-

To my fellow Directioners: We will find a way through the dark...

[berlinbisque]

Proud Reject (Part 1)

I’m literally blind my eyesight has deteriorated further everything’s blurry the day starts in bed & ends like that too no sunlight no connection with the outside world no one to talk to just my phone and my thoughts & loads of tears… that’s how everyday begins and ends. Its not self imposed, this happens when you are isolated by people. I can’t type but I wanted to write this… I love this mini story or script more than my next book even though the book’s more interesting but out of personal choice I like the story which I’ll be sharing tomorrow more than that, it’s not on any professional level it’s just something I would’ve discussed with a friend and laughed ie. if I had friends, something started that particular “topic” and I couldn’t help wondering… what if?

My heart was in my mouth again cuz I received a reel on FB which had his friend Aditya (he was either pretending to be him in 2016 or he himself inspite of being engaged was interested idk) they were dancing like most tv ppl and I got another panic attack… my mother was already torturing me, I woke up with high fever I still have fever headache it’s been there since a week I’m getting wheezing due to continuous crying and I realised that he wants someone famous to make such videos too. Someone rich and famous like that. Even in abroad there’s no pressure, over there all those celebs (who are are much more popular) even the ones in their early 20s when they make videos that too just one or two out of fad, they film it on their cheap phones they don’t care about the blurry quality they are not trying to sell it, they just don’t care about all that and those who are of my age (still nowhere close to Aditya, he was older than Harsh also) some of them, even if they have all those pics that I personally like (with their boyfriends - trekking or at the lake, casual everyday candid shots) they still find it hard to cope with social media and they eventually take a break from it, had they been in my position they too would’ve ended up like this out of all that pressure. I can’t keep up with your life. Few things that I’ll like to share before starting with my story, A - the sketches I’m sorry if he was hurt. I had not made them, my book wasn’t like Rupi Kaur’s either it never had those intimate doodles. I think my mother stalks me (I don’t want to write about her publicly but I have to share all this please don’t judge me by her) and she has taken advantage of a lot of things and also challengingly said “Did anyone come to help you? Everyone hates you and no one pays attention no one cares, everyone wants you to die and you will die alone like this” she has also told me a lot of hurtful things related to that guy, taking advantage of that as well and and the problem is (my hands are cold n numb lifeless rn) I can’t convey my feelings directly through some app or something so I have to rely on these public posts NO MAILS he ain’t some God or Celebrity (being a celebrity means being celebrated not deprecated) I’m not some groupie or teenager to mail my fav celebrity crush and he doesn’t belong to any boy band. What’s in it for me? Will I be rescued from my mother or helped with my health issues which started DUE TO HIM? Or is he just gonna sit there reading my mail, getting happy with all the validation after which he’ll ignore it. Am I that? Hahaha I’m not into human worship. We are more focused on our lives… especially those like me in my position. She has told me several times that I’m a “sl-u-tt” for being in LOVE or for falling in love. She also came up with the forcer tag even thought it was torturous for me and I kept crying and saying STOP stop stop cuz for us as girls rape or force is worse than murder, I never wanted him to marry me just to take responsibility for his actions I never wanted to punish him with myself and I always respected him and I’ll continue to do so I’m not his fans to write cheap comments like I saw in that dancing video (they were writing about his shirt). That tacky shirt made the whole video even more disturbing, and I didn’t see the entire thing I was in the middle of a panic attack, I just saw one shot then I died. After that I vomited, my pressure was falling rapidly and I kept crying for days cuz you know what right… (25th Oct) anyway I never shared this (one more reason/aspect) like that Chote Pandit tells Ruhaan or Ruh Baba “Aap par aise chichore kapde jajte nahi hai” I was like aah that is what they call it… anyway haha but I don’t want anyone who is being an “eye candy” for other females on television, they come and hit on him in comments that too cheap comments. Yes everyone’s doing it but that’s why we are so depressed and you are anyway not with me I don’t even get a fraction of your day or time.

My mother used that word force several times (she has said other unimaginable offending things too) cuz I was crying and it was triggering me, she said it because I wanted him to say something (but we weren’t even discussing that) for talking or communication cuz I just wanted his OCD to break. It started within 24 hours and not how you might think we met on 2nd Oct then 2 years later 2nd April and I know that we all feel jaded to text sometimes or keep the conversation going, we might not feel enthusiastic anymore after that initial excitement or whatever but it wasn’t like that, if it would’ve been that I wouldn’t have even taken so much stress. We’ve all done that at some point in our lives, internet makes us lethargic, we also get addicted to more exploration or finding new people to talk to… we feel like we can do better or take our time to choose whoever’s the most ideal for us, but his case was totally different.

At some point we would all respond or say something maybe after a week or even after getting let’s say - reconnected after losing contact or reaching a temporary impasse. We wouldn’t hold on to any grudge or some kind of a “promise” he swore never to talk to me, there was nothing to be mad about, he just decided that we will never have any direct contact his parents also said “We don’t want to keep any talukaat (contact) particularly with your daughter” he kept liking my pics BUT not replying to any of the texts (when he started liking my photos religiously I texted him on FB messenger because I thought maybe my texts weren’t getting through and I wasn’t receiving his due to some glitch but he READ those FB texts and still didn’t respond) and even after that he was liking the pics then when I told him “Are u feeling sorry for me, why do you keep liking the photos, is it the BB pin what you wanted, I even gave you a reason that too it was all funny and I gave it the very same night as soon as I woke up in the middle of it I gave it” he removed me from the list after that. I am getting wheezing I can’t get overwhelmed I had shared the exact thing which I told him when he was asking for my pin (long ago) I can’t keep reiterating everything everywhere. He then kept blocking and ignoring my real account but speaking to the fake ID

The coincidences and those premonitions in my dreams had already started which made me more curious about his behaviour so I tried talking to him but that fake ID like I said was for my school friend who was also stalking me with her fake ID. And I would not see his stories or anything, I was playing her Snapchat story but his was queued so it started playing by default where I saw that training session. When I tried speaking to him using my real acc… he not only blocked me AS SOON AS HE HEARD MY NAME (like I said he wanted no “direct” contact between me and him) he also made his account private. He made me feel like a stalker, I had already started getting panic attacks and I had stopped watching TV it has been off since then (2015 Sept) I tried moving on in Aug itself but I told you what happened over and over again, same old story repeated heartbreaks… cuz they only wanted girls like me as a call girl and according to them only pageant winners or models, fair and rich or extremely famous girls even those with notoriety (nothing worth all that attention) who were out of their league were all meant for dating. I never fell in that category. Eventually they ended up with actual call girls. I have seen their pics and I’ve seen some in real life too. All those other girls whom they were chasing would treat them like “fans” karma. Not only actors everyone these days does that and then girls of my level (caliber) get married to roadside romeos and illiterate creeps/pervs cuz all those men also want someone out of their league and they prey on us… this is a common problem in India. Anyway like I said I just wanted to see if he still remembered me by the end of that year and if he still hated me (for no reason) I had not added him to view his stories but he blocked me and made everything private. I’m twitching it affects me subconsciously now… my mother also makes me feel like this after years of (weird) coincidences which were linked to him and all that insensitivity (the story escalated he never made peace his behaviour only got worse along with all that humiliating ignorance) since she called me a “sl-tt” for falling in love with him I eventually ended up telling her that her marriage was literally arranged it wasn’t a love marriage but yet she got prégnant so many times so was that out of love or lust? I never wanted to get on such terms with her but she would keep torturing me (she had thrashed me ruthlessly even after getting fibromyalgia several times cuz I have no one in this world to support me or tell her anything) she has in fact told me a lot of harmful and offending things (out of gloating) “Dekho kuch aur kabhi koi nahi mila iss aurat ko yeh akeli hi reh gayi” and laughed (I was 25) I’ve been getting addressed as aurat or woman ever since I was 12. I was told I should’ve drowned during 26th July floods and never returned from school I would sit on the stairs with my heavy bag famished and parched everyday after coming home for 2-3 hours cuz my mother would not leave keys for me, and then get tortured at home for another one hour, I would keep telling myself one day someone will come and all this would end but I ended up being bed ridden because of whoever came and it continued for many more years to come, all my youth and adulthood.

I was never a likeable girl whom you could fall in love with, I never had those superficial attributes (white complexion, money, fame etc. they would only try to treat us like call girls that’s why I’m a lip virgin) . When I said about love and arranged marriages she said she had every right cuz she was legally married and I’m a forcer rapist (for wanting to know the reason behind his sudden silence and that absurd behaviour) she keeps saying or blurting these things out because of unrequited love cuz no one likes or wants me, it’s perceived as a social stigma in India. Cuz there’s nothing from the opposite side not even care or basic concern as a Co-human literally how can someone be so insensitive? She says all that derisively, again out of gloating and competition just to pull me down as another female. Today things were worse even though I had wheezing and I’m still getting it + fever and headache. I’m gonna cut it short now I’ve written a lot…

So coming back to the OCD or whatever part where he had made a rule that there would be no direct contact - he would either speak to my fake ID or use his own friend’s ID but one of us had to be someone else. Go through this link: https://www.lilacnights.com/post/surprise The other day I murmuring in my sleep I was so disoriented I kept saying “Aditya came with his gf Aditi… God knows for what, Harsh was also 10 kms away Aditya had said he would go to some bakery in Kandivali for evening snacks Kandivali is where they would reside he was at his house even though he would always be 6 kms away which is Malad” then I said to myself “No wake up it’s Tanvi not Aditi obviously”

I had told you, the Devil or angels all these entities in fact can probably read our minds and you know when I was browsing certain quotes it’s as if they were talking to me… one of them reflected exactly what I was thinking a few days back - Since I had seen his house in 2015-16 I knew he wasn’t rich and like I said he wasn’t even that big on Instagram or FB no blue tick and 2500-3000 followers with 250 likes, from his (natural) pics I thought he wasn’t that good looking or fair (it’s just that he wasn’t very photogenic) and so I fell in love with him but then some tarot reader told me (I had to rely on all that cuz he was not saying anything) that he was reluctant cuz he thought I was like a gold digger so I started cutting down all my expenses worked on several articles for my blogs back then, I was 20 but I was trying to be as understanding as possible… I started buying things on Sale literally if you’ve noticed for 100s-1000 all these years because of my panic attacks I never saw him after 2016 Feb and I thought maybe that is what he wanted there was anyway no hope from the others, and I had coincidences or signs here so I thought I’ll do this and then I realised it was all futile, all the selflessness and altruism it just wasn’t worth it. I even wrote a letter and clarified/acknowledged that it could be one sided while also sharing my feelings for him cuz I thought he would also cut down on his expenses because his brother was jobless like mine. That’s why I hate today’s generation they ruin everyone’s life along with their’s but I’m from Gen Z I’m actually younger than his younger brother it’s just that they are always like that, they have no pressure or expectations. I poured lots of love in that letter for this part but he hated me and then he had that stage show with her which broke my heart and I never gave it and my mother also was about to hit me again cuz she secretly read that (it had nothing which could’ve made her that livid or furious not even like a proper I love you or anything) she just said “Stop trying to look great or good” I saw the Devil’s numbers so I’m guessing it was him you had read my mind when I was telling myself that it was all wrong, I shouldn’t have ever tried being ideal for someone like that when he was already well off or rich or good looking he never needed love like me that’s why he never even understood anything, I don’t know why his house looked like that or if like ppl say Gujjus actually hide money but it was all deceptive, he was already too good he never needed love he was in a way better position. I kept saying I should’ve enjoyed and loved my life instead of getting bed ridden and cutting down everything, living on that bare minimum stuff c’mon… he showed a quote which had the exact same emotions and it was talking about all this too.

Then there were more quotes again with my thoughts but with answers this time - As a piece of advice *clears throat* the Devil’s like “Times change, we change, our choices change too… maybe you should just live out your dreams now” the background images everything all the signs suggested/reminded me of the rest of the stuff, let’s say he wants some tv actress to make those stupid immature dance reels (remember what had happened last time right? Two of them in their 40s made a misogynistic video where he was liye talk throwing her around and getting abusive and for some reason that was supposed to be funny and then that guy that “actor” he actually slammed her head against the wall in real life cuz he was having an affair) the fortune telling app said he wants someone “talented” to make those reels and earn money ummm seriously? You are going to hold auditions and another Swayamvar for this? You actually need talent for such stupid ass videos? Really? 😂🤣🤣🤣 He reminded me of my dreams (ironically the Devil not him) and he’s right here so if he is “rejecting” me for these reels like overage teenagers then even I will say - I want some NRI who stays abroad and who will take me away from all this (I gave examples of so many famous celebrities from MY age group all these ppl making videos are older, those celebs they don’t do all this and even if they do it cuz it’s a fad now it’s shot on blurry pixelated quality for fun not money and some of them they take all those cute casual pics and use Instagram like a digital album like some of our Indian Bollywood celebs and that’s it, they don’t turn this into a career that too most of it is just for attention) so yeah he’s right if he’s rejecting me for that especially after I’ve become conscious I don’t even look good so yeah I’m not suitable for the camera I have become agoraphobic I haven’t left my room since 2017 I’ve become bed ridden and he is still thinking selfishly about his own life then I also want a rescuer an actual hero who will take me abroad because why is he even staying India? Just got fame right? You hardly get anything here, we needed something for our living room and bathroom some important fixtures and even there there’s literally no choice or even proper functionality. If you see the state of our roads or the air quality outside you’ll literally feel like shifting there… it’s getting worse day by day, we hardly get any quality product here, prices are getting hiked and unlike abroad there are no alternatives, I keep getting cheap ads from “homegrown businesses” in India who are busy making Sx toys, the land of superficial Kama sutra and Chappis or pervs what else do you expect? Indians don’t need beautiful cosy homes or designer spaces (that too in a budget) or other things such as good quality food or air or any kind of consumption like that cuz they are only good at fcking and having kids. Our population shows that there are literally no brains here… my head is paining.

My mother would never believe or support me when I would say I’m always about to face molestation in the school bus cuz I’m my stop was last and I would be the only girl left everyday I would force myself to somehow keep away my head wud keep banging against the window cuz I would get drowsy, they (driver and cleaner) didn’t even spare a KG toddler, I eventually took things into my own hand and the cleaner’s frustration was evident that day and when I grew up I saw smother school bus’s driver ogling me (when I was a teenager) in my car, I immediately looked behind to see if they were being accompanied by a teacher cuz that was a new rule but the teacher was sitting obliviously completely ignorant to that in her own sweet world… (Jamnabai Bus) another toddler’s case came on tv that year where they parents had paid 10k for her picnic where she was raped and the teacher kept threatening and manipulating and raping her repeatedly he was a sad case my hands are again I’ve cold I had to mention all that this is one more reason why I don’t want kids anymore and this country it’s unlivable. I can’t stay here. All my school friends are married to NRIs, and I don’t want to stay here either… in fact considering my thoughts and everything I should’ve been the first to move. All my school friends would think I was from there… Someone had even told me that I was too sophisticated to be here when it saw my old website (I don’t have it now) he was surprised it was made in India. We asked about the bathroom hardware btw, I just received a response and as guessed they’ve shifted everything to exports inspite being an Indian brand, all the good stuff is reserved for Dubai and other places… people who don’t deserve to be there (cheap bimbos) have already shifted, for me I just fell short of the mark because of my looks ur complexion I don’t know what to blame. Look at these beautiful velvety chenille cushions with all those intricate designs (traditional + Aztec) I have studied all this on my own… you don’t get this stuff in India btw, we get nothing here.

I somehow got those items, it’s me Zara after all I can’t keep something ugly or bad in that bathroom, there has to be congruity like everything else I’m always in sync with the universe. We felt like thieves though to buy things made in Rajasthan as if it was all smuggled. In India girls develop a defence mechanism from an early age, it might sound like really dreary and lascivious if I’ll keep bringing up this topic but in this particular article I feel like I’ll have to discuss it not explicitly but I’ll have to make you understand why as girls or more precisely as ineligible (darker toned females who don’t have a rich father to buy a bridegroom for her, who won’t be able to afford any dowry you might think times have changed BUT I literally heard someone in my own family shouting and saying “My best friend’s girl has several hotels at her name her father is a business tycoon and look at me I can’t woo anyone like that, where am I? Uske gf ke baap ki itni saari hotelein hai dekho and wht about me?” He doesn’t even want to get married. That same gf was so weird she had a deviant personality she locked him from outside while they were on a trip God knows for what reason and kept him under lock and key. He woke up locked in that room.

We deal with lecherous men from the age of 10-11 and all these educated men who are supposed to take care of us are feeding us to the wolves I wanted someone of my caliber to talk to who would understand my thoughts, who would’ve able to keep up with me and my conversations someone who himself is fathomable and not some illiterate incoherent cheap vulgar man like that creep from Bhopal YET I WAS FORCED to talk to him, they left me with no choice until I blocked him and he kept coming and harassing me, he was a perv and you know his story. Is that not FORCE? In fact it’s all UNFAIR it’s the other way round… I have dealt with married creepy ugly men touching me by taking advantage of the crowd on school trips - we feel molested and exploited we feel like killing ourselves, and when a girl gets rejected for no reason she didn’t even like got chance to probably get liked for her personality or other things (we put make more efforts than all those good looking fair rich girls hoping we’ll get chosen by someone or the other) but at the end we get rejected not only for love or CARE, (every girl’s fav word) but also for emotional, financial and physical security, we are deprived of that too. We can’t depend on our old parents when we are surrounded by so many pervs who are getting further encouraged by INTERNET. Now all the pseudo feminists will be like - “You can’t learn Judo Karate (some of us have certain illnesses and unfortunately the ones triggered by stress are skyrocketing amongst girls that too chronic destabilising ones like Lupus (systematic disorder) Fibromyalgia, Hashimoto’s syndrome, Neurasthénia which I got after fibro due to cov & 5th Mar stress ) They will say “You can’t learn kick boxing? Karate? Pork chop? Use pepper spray…?” At the risk of what? Incurring their wrath & getting acid thrown at our face? “You can’t ask for a raise?” They sometimes pay more to men cuz they are the sole bread winners in some families and at times single girls and boys BOTH are given a smaller paycheck. There are places where they do add more zeroes for men but even after bringing up that topic things haven’t changed for us… next “Why can’t you work during your pregnancy why take a maternity leave? You are a woman we are strong invincible we don’t need that, how old fashioned? Why take an epidural? Why Caesarean? Why can’t you juggle work life and kids both? Why have children? Too primitive? Why can’t you have kids? Too ambitious? (Well there are several other reasons) Why be a homemaker? Why become a working girl? Be modern we don’t work 9 to 5… Why can’t you just party, booze and smoke and then grow your own weed, sell it & become an entrepreneur… like a female Pablo Picasso… why can’t you? Is it only for men?” All these pseudo feminists will immediately ask these things, the moment you talk about being deprived of emotional, physical or financial security which is like the need of the hour right now for females they’ll start asking such nonsensical questions that you’ll feel like pulling a trigger in your mouth instead of answering them. But what I meant to say is that is what rejection is for us. We have no hope left and our future becomes uncertain and scary. Speaking of wanting to move somewhere abroad… I would’ve probably stayed back if I had someone here, you stay for people you love… I have no one to keep me here, they actually all want me to die they are waiting for that. No one cares about my life or me…

Considering everything that I had to hear… (my head is paining so please ignore all the errors/typos) and how people have behaved with me especially him and my mother, I don’t want that forcer chaser tag anymore so if you are ready to accept me only then you can approach or if you want be friends then I’m also cool with that but don’t be fickle like him, if you are not sure then either stay away or be honest… if you don’t want me but still want to be around and if you are okay with risking your integrity although I’m very good at keeping secrets then we can have a half open marriage like I had suggested earlier. I had written all this long ago…

Girls like me who are considered “untalkable” can only dream of a platonic relationship… in my dreams sometimes I have someone by my side holding my hand when I feel like I’m dying during those convulsions or tremors and violent jerking/twitching throughout my body, I get wheezing too and even my heart muscles go through that; having said that in real life it involves romantic feelings minus intimacy and it’s unimaginable to think that someone would like us, we can use the other house mates alternative which again considering how he has made me… ugly and all and how much my mother hates having me around, I feel it would be difficult for someone to put up with me in the same environment, she keeps praying for my death cuz she “cannot stand me” (just like the guy I loved the most) and ego would want to hang around? I always wanted to be with him, watch TV, shop together, put my arm around his neck, talk, do fun things like sharing those interesting or unbelievable bizarre stories (well I have a lot now) build our home, decorate it and spend our life together, now that life is gone along with 8-10 years of my youth, I could never be with him. When they create characters like us on screen they show us like psychos, one sided forcers, they do cover these things like watching tv or preparing breakfast but we are still shown as some creep who is forcing someone to be around & craving for their presence, fighting for their time and attention. They depict us like those psychos and we end up feeling more scared 😱 hence we never talk about this. Speaking of mutualism, well maximum of these stories start off as not only mutual but also with loads of attention from the opposite side, they lure you and then humiliate. Also, who would want to watch TV with me? I can crack jokes and make you laugh if you want to be House Mates, you won’t get bored and if you aren’t like my mother then you’ll even get used to my appearance and it won’t bother you after some time. Platonic is where you can watch movies or tv together, as house mates we can use the living area as a common room apart from that we will have our own space where we can stay separately, My head is paining a lot and I have a lot of fever so I’m gonna continue the funny story tomorrow…

Gn Zara Sauleh

Coincidences - www.lilacnights.com/post/stupid-cupid

My Dream Life 👇🏻

Just so you know… this is My Dream Life. This is what I want, a warm cosy home, sunsets by the lake, Amsterdam canals & rivers, round windows, quaint little shops, egrets & ducks, some puppies, warm amber lights, 90s vibes, freshly baked viennoiseries 🥐 and love + a little bit of tranquility. Credit for videos - | utrechtalive | & | elbgestoeber | (couldn’t tag cuz I’ve seen some bloggers asking ppl to take down their videos so didn’t want to tag them I have added their usernames)

[freckleslikestars]

Five Times Mulder Asked Scully to Marry Him and One Time He Didn’t

does what it says on the tin :)

2016 words, read here on AO3

i.     She’s bleeding the first time he asks. Thorns of agony pierce his heart as burgundy red stains her snow-white skin. She bleeds elegantly, holds her composure even as the life drains from her, and he hates her a little bit for it because if she can daintily hold his handkerchief to her nose and murmur quiet placations as she dies in front of him, he has no right to go to pieces. He’d joked just last week about picking out china patterns, but when the words leap from his mouth it’s not that kind of wedding he’s asking for.

She startles, freezes under his gaze, and only the tang of iron on her tongue breaks her from her shock. He sits across from her, eyes pleading, unsure how to explain that he doesn’t want to be shut out of her hospital room when they say ‘family only’ again. It seems he doesn’t have to find the words; she can read him like a book.

‘You’re my emergency contact, Mulder. You’ll always be the first to know,’ she neglects to tell him that she changed her emergency contact and next of kin to him on her medical records two days after she woke from her coma.

He gives a tight smile and a stiff nod. Of course, a much more rational workaround. Much more sensible. They spend the rest of the day in silence, a metallic, bitter taste lingering in each of their mouths.

 ii.     She’s lost everything. Her health. Her daughter. Her bodily autonomy. She’s in remission, hasn’t had a nose bleed in nearly two months now, but she still feels wraith-like; her skin still a sickly hue under fluorescents, her ribs a protruding xylophone beneath her suits. She’s trying to put on weight but her appetite is still fighting its way back.

A weekend away. Sea air. Peace and quiet. Just what she needs, just what the doctor ordered. No family – no squalling babies to remind her what she can’t have – no Mulder and no aliens. Just the wide, empty ocean and the hole in her heart.

But trouble and the darkness find her like a magnet, and she’s secretly relieved at the sound of Mulder’s voice on the end of the phone, the faux-nonchalant quality of it that reveals just how much he’s missing her.

She doesn’t know who she’s showing off to when she recites all she knows: the friendly local police chief or him. She tells herself it’s the locals, that she doesn’t need his approval or his help, but she blooms when she hears his awestruck voice, can hear the smile in his whisper.

It takes all her restraint not to blush, not to give away just how much she wants him to mean it. But Jack Bonsaint is looking at her expectantly and so she rolls her eyes and wonders briefly if he can sense her disparaging look in the tone of her voice.

 iii.     They’re drenched in Egyptian cotton, limbs tangled and lethargic. Two bottles of overpriced champagne charged to a bureau card. There’s a silver plate of fresh strawberries on the side table that they’re occasionally reaching over to, sharing bites and licking up trails of sweet juice.

They’re giggly and past tipsy and can’t keep their hands from wandering, not that they need to. There’s no case pressing down on them, and for the rest of the weekend, they’re free of all responsibilities, with nowhere else they’re needed other than right there in bed, in the bath and in the luxuriously large shower. He’s mulling over the idea of taking her to the Griffith Observatory tomorrow evening, but he’s not sure he wants to leave the bliss of her embrace.

She’s soft and pliant in his arms and he cannot fathom ever letting her go, so he does the only thing he can think of doing with three-quarters of a bottle of champagne swimming through his system, ‘marry me, Scully,’ pressed into her collarbone as he licked his way down towards the valley between her breasts.

She hums contentedly and smiles wide, raking her fingers lazily through his messy hair. She tugs him back up to her mouth, chases his tongue and nips at his plush bottom lip. Her eyes are dark and deep, and he might just drown in them if she keeps looking at him like that. She rolls him over and settles atop him, glows as she makes love to him with a wide, dopey grin.

Neither will admit to remembering it in the morning, and the observatory will be toured silently, hand in hand, but his request and her soft moans of ‘yes,’ will echo throughout both their minds.

 iv.     Ten fingers. Ten toes. Big blue eyes and a button nose. He’s perfect; perfect little ears and the perfect Cupid’s bow. There’s a soft, awestruck quiet that has settled around her apartment, and as out of his depth as he feels holding his son – their son – nothing feels more right than the sturdy weight of him cradled in his arms.

She’s sleeping beside him, her body curved around the mass that’s no longer there, and he can’t help falling even more in love with her. She stirs as if she can sense his thoughts, and for once he doesn’t think about opening an X file on it. Her face crumples when she props herself up on her elbow, wincing slightly at the tenderness, and he gently presses his thumb against the crease in her forebrow until it soothes out. William coos and she peers into the bundles of blankets, capturing one of his little, flailing hands and pressing a kiss to it.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he murmurs quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, ‘I want to ask you something, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.’

‘Okay..?’ her voice trembles with hesitancy.

‘I want to do this thing right. I want to be a good dad, and a good partner and...and I want to be a good husband. I want to be there for you and for William, and I understand if that’s not what you want, and I didn’t ever think it would be something I would want. I grew up with my parents in a loveless marriage that ended in a terrible, terrible divorce and I swore I wouldn’t do that, but then I met you and I cannot imagine spending my life with anyone but you. I don’t want you to feel pressured though. It’s up to you, it’s your decision and we can take it at whatever speed you want, I just wanted to get it out there as something to think about and-‘

‘Mulder?’

‘Yeah?’

‘My answer’s yes. I’d like that, very much.’

She reaches up as he bends down, meeting in the middle for a soft, sweet kiss. A knock on the door disrupts them, triggering a wail from William, and Mulder chuckles, pulling away, ‘you know, this is our life now, right?’

‘And I can’t imagine being happier,’ one more pecked kiss and they carefully transfer William into his mother’s arms and Mulder goes to answer the door, opening it to find a note left on the floor in the corridor.

He’s got just under two days to go into hiding. Their eyes are red and raw by the time he ducks out, the watery dawn grey barely filtering through the windows of her apartment, the warmth that usually fills it having cooled.

 v.     He has a scruffy beard, she has dyed hair, and they haven’t stayed in the same town for more than three weeks in over a year. Different identities cycled through just as frequently. There’s a stupor that’s hung over them, dark clouds concealing a sun that struggles to fill the sky.

They’re in a town somewhere on the border between Arizona and Nevada and she’s waitressing at a diner, picking up every shift she can. They have a duffle of money – Mulder had spent years squirrelling away caches of money across the country, just in case; five hundred dollars here, a thousand there - but it’s dwindling and, whilst Scully’s technically an accomplice, she’s less recognisable with her hair died, and so she’s the one picking up odd jobs when she can.

It’s all too much. They’ve spent nearly a decade with a very specific purpose together and now they’re freefalling, grappling with how to exist in a world without structure and, more importantly, without their son.

They have their moments, though, when the pressure increases to boiling point and they snap. The storm breaks and they explode, sometimes vicious words hurled with painful accuracy, sometimes an angry fuck against the door of their motel room. And in the aftermath, a peace reigns. It lasts maybe a week, maybe two, but there’s a clarity in that peace, a reminder that they’re still in love.

It’s one of these sweet times they find themselves in now, coiled atop scratchy motel sheets whilst the ancient air conditioner wheezes over them. She’s soft and supple, draped over him and running her fingers through the scraggly hair on his chest. ‘I need to get to work.’

His arms wrap tighter around her waist, ‘no. I want you to stay right here.’ She hums, content to stay a moment longer, content to exist in this moment of calm. He kisses the top of her head when she looks at her watch, pouts when she sighs and pushes herself up and off the bed. He watches as she dresses, fastidiously buttoning her blouse, pinning back each flyaway strand of dull, mousy brown hair. She takes her time covering her freckles and the little beauty mark above her lip, anything that could be used to identify her. ‘Scully?’

‘Hm?’ she locks eyes with him in the mirror.

‘Come ‘ere.’

She’s hesitant as she sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to wrinkle anything - some habits die hard, and she’s her father’s daughter: she may not be working in the office anymore, but wrinkles and tardiness are not something she would ever allow. His brow furrows and she runs her thumb over it, ‘what?’

He takes her hand, kisses her thumb and each finger, lingering on the fourth one a moment longer than the rest, ‘would you...’

‘Mulder?’

‘Marry me.’

‘What?’

‘Doesn’t have to be now, but...I don’t want to lose you.’

She shifts, looks away from him. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Mulder.’

‘Just...think about it.’

She’s at the door before he can blink, ‘I’m going to be late for work.’

 vi.     He’s a free man. Technically, they both are now, but she’s had a modicum of freedom for a while. It’s new to him. So, he meets her at the hospital, just to bring her lunch. He smiles at the stir they’re causing as Dr Scully walks through the halls on the arm of a man.

He takes her to the Bahamas and they spend their days on the beach and in the water, eating mangoes that spill juice down their chins and rowing out into the startlingly blue abyss of ocean. They hike across rocky shorelines and through dense forest. He applies sun cream across her back religiously, but she still burns, and her freckles darken.

It’s their last night on the island, walking barefoot on the sandy shore, the gentle lap of waves around their toes. The moon’s bright, the sky cloudless, and the night feels endless when she stops in her tracks, their linked hands tugging him to a halt too.

She smiles at him, a blinding smile, and pulls him in closer to her, the whisper of her lips across his quiet in the still night. ‘I want to ask you something.’

He’s bemused but nods with a hesitant smile, ‘anything.’

Her mind flashes back on all the times he’s asked, all the times she’s scoffed at him or turned her back on him, and has a sudden need to never let him feel the anxiety that’s bubbling within her ever again. ‘Marry me?’

Tagging @today-in-fic

[bexterbex]

America’s Sleeping Beauty | Captain America (Steve Rogers)/Reader | Chapter 1:

Steve went into the ice 70 years ago and left you, his wife, behind. Or so he thought. You were the woman behind the greatest soldier the world had ever known. You were Mrs. America. So what happens when you didn't get left behind? Or rather what happens when you make a choice to try and save yourself from the heartbreak of losing your husband? You end up in the same time together, launched into the future. So how did you get here and what happens now?

A/N: Find this on my Ao3 crystallclover: here

Not read by anyone-mistakes my own. Non Canon compliant: 

Tags: vi0lence, implied SH, implied A, and more, 

but let’s try posting again so we don’t get lost in the void

Chapter 1: When you find my body........

You were a woman frozen in time.

Literally.

Stuck in July of 1950, the Fourth of July, 1950 to be exact. Or rather, your body was frozen in time and you were asleep, in a glass coffin of sorts. Not really asleep but frozen in time, to wake up on July fourth of 2016, 66 years to be exact.

Why that year?

That wasn’t really the important part so long as to see how the future, how better the world would be. You were America’s Sleeping Beauty, the woman frozen in time, THE Mrs. America.

It had been a little over 5 years since your husband’s disappearance in the war. While he was the face of hope for the war front, you were the face of those left behind. He was to rally the troops, you were to rally the homemakers, the factory workers, and those who weren’t fit to fight. He sold war bonds, and you educated everyone on the importance of rationing, victory gardens, and turning over precious materials for the greater good. He was America’s hero, and you were its sweetheart.

After he disappeared, you were revered as America’s War Widow, a face that garnered sympathy from everyone. You were put on a pedestal as you were to push on through the grief to help America heal. And you did, for 5 years you helped push America into the post-war boom. To garner in the next decade of prosperity to the American people. And then an opportunity laid out before you, a choice that was yours to make, one that wasn’t hand-picked for you like the last 7 years, since 1943.

You made the choice to be America’s Sleeping Beauty, to wake up 66 years in the future, to bring a bit of 1950s America into the now modern day. A former Nazi scientist turned American Government asset had proposed this idea to S.H.I.E.L.D., to Colonel Philips and Peggy Carter and the other’s in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D., your bosses. They kept you as an asset to keep America safe, a front to hide behind. A public face to prop up, and the American people at it up.

You pitched the idea back to them after the prospect of putting someone to sleep this way was presented to all of you. The idea that you could be America’s Leading Lady, a gift to future America, one that knew of peace. Another way that people could rally behind you, behind S.H.I.E.L.D. and a better world. And you pitched it at the perfect time, they were just about ready to determine how to terminate your position, how to phase you out so that America could essentially move on from the war completely. They knew the American people wouldn’t want to give you up just like that, but this was an opportunity for all parties.

So you did his initial testing, the baseline health tests, ones that you would be compared to once you woke up. This wasn’t something that had ever been done before successfully on humans. Encased in a specialized glass coffin designed by the scientist, and engineered and built by Howard Stark. And you were to be presented at the Stark Expo just a day later. The hope was that if it wasn’t successful, you weren’t going to be too rotted yet if it did kill you. You knew the potential risks, and if you were to die by this procedure, it would be better than chucking yourself off a cliff, which is how you felt underneath your perfect mask since your husband’s disappearance. But America’s Sweetheart committing suicide was not an option, a tragic science experiment was.

Your hope was that when you woke up they would know where Steve was, even if they had already buried his body, you would have closure. You would also be farther removed in time that you may have a chance to move on. There was also a fail-safe if Steve were to somehow magically appear. You could be woken up early with the right set of sequences, to join him in life again.

The base of your resting place held the information needed to wake you up, the tests that needed to be performed, and your luggage packed with your things as if you weren’t taking a 66 year trip into the future, and more or less as if you were to be taking a trip to California from New York. But Stark had the idea to keep that all airtight, perfectly preserved like the day it was put in there. The coffin would start its wake-up sequence at 11:45 AM on July 4, 2016, and you were to be awake at noon. No matter what.

You had dreamed that if this were to be successful, that you were to be put on display at the Smithsonian for all to look upon until you were to wake, that there would be some grand ceremony, after all you were America’s Sleeping Beauty.

But here you were, encased in dust in a bunker on an Army base all but forgotten about. Your display, explaining your life and your dreams surrounded you. The coffin had no need for external power, which was a good thing because the breakers were turned off down here. It was like you were moved here temporarily and were completely forgotten about. As if you had never existed. Today was June 23th, 2016, and today was the first day anyone has seen you in over 30 years.

Just 36 years after you were put to sleep you were forgotten about in the American Eye. You had captured the heart of the nation, you were the face that Americans held on to with such reverie, but you were a blip on the timeline in retrospect. Well, many products still had your face on them, posters and classic Americana did too. When children ask who you were, their parents would remember you fondly, but never had the answer to the question as to what happened to you. As they remembered to know who you are, just a moment later you were forgotten about. No one searched for you. That was, until today, or rather, the search for you had started officially just a few months prior.

But today was the day that this bunker that was your home was to be finally searched. By three men, two whom you knew from childhood. They seemed to be frustrated, running out of options, running out of places to look as they opened the doors in this bunker, room after room sat as if someone just locked the doors one day and never came back, which was actually what had happened. You were the last door, the last bit of hope, but what they stumbled upon wasn’t what they thought.

Steve was the one who entered the room first after the three men made the decision that he should be the one to open the door, the last door of hope in finding you. They knew the weight of what could be held behind the door. But until it was open, they didn’t know if you were there.

Your room wasn’t like the other offices that they had been finding. Of course, you were in a glass coffin and the room around you held the panels of your life, telling your story, or at least a glorified version of it. It seemed to belong to a museum, not some dusty bunker on an army base forgotten about to be left to crumble.

But as Steve entered the room he was frozen. The dim still working filament lightbulbs cased a pitiful glow about the room, the coffin was encased in dust, even with his super-soldier eyesight, he could see what looked to be a body, but no detail more under the thick layer of grime. Bucky and Sam entered behind him but in an instant, Steve took two large steps forward before he could caution himself against it he wiped away at the head of the case.

You were just like the day he last saw you, save for the peaceful look of sleep. He could have sworn at the lack of light in the room for not giving him a better view of your face. He was entranced to see his wife, his best girl, seemingly asleep before him, not aged a day.

His angel.

Even if you weren’t alive, if there was no chance of saving you, he was grateful that you were preserved in this way. He would have sold his soul just to see you once more.

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[goldentournesol]

Be Careful What You Wish For

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer gets exactly what he wished for, but it isn’t necessarily for the best.

Length: 5k 

A/N: this is based off of maybe one of the best requests i have ever received, thank you so much anon, your request really got my creative juices going! also i combined this request with another one, too <3 (angst, just straight up, with happy ending tho)

masterlist

The sun was shining against the glass windows of the car. The sunset was so beautiful with its melting and merging colors, Y/N wished it lasted longer so she could watch it. It’d been feeling like beautiful moments were few and far between lately. 

No one ever said being in a relationship was easy, but she’d never expected to drift this far from Spencer. She couldn’t exactly place the moment at which the descent of their relationship began, if she was being honest. One day, they’d be happy, smiling, full of love and life. And then the next, waves of darkness and despair would appear. They weren’t even the kinds of waves that would disappear with the shining sun. No, they were there to stay and fuel the storm that continues to rage on. 

Today was one of those days. To be fair, the whole team was struggling, but Spencer had taken Morgan’s departure a little harder than everyone else. It was understandable, of course. Derek was a staple in Spencer’s life for so long. However, for a man who’s seen and been through so many losses, he sure was terrible at dealing with them. Spencer’s tendency to keep things bottled up had definitely been affecting the overall health of their relationship. In fact, it has been the root of a lot of their arguments lately. Y/N just wanted him to let her in, let her help him and she was willing to wait however long it takes. Spencer on the other hand grew more and more snappy, irritable, and private with each passing day.

When they were at work, they tried their best to avoid each other so as to not get on each other’s nerves. Their fights usually didn’t turn into screaming matches, but they both had a track record of saying things they don’t mean. Hurtful things. Turns out profilers are fantastic at rubbing salt into open wounds. 

Ever since they began dating, Spencer took the subway less, opting for car rides with Y/N. Sometimes she’d drop him off, other times they’d spend the rest of the day at each other’s houses. She enjoyed driving him around, at first he was never too picky with the music she played, but later on, his music began to overtake hers. It never bothered her, in fact, she took it as a sign of him being vulnerable and sharing parts of himself.

The days where car rides once filled with joyous singing and laughter were coming to a shocking halt. The silence nowadays was almost always louder than the music they used to play. Even small talk felt like too much of a burden sometimes.

“Should I just drop you off at your place? Or do you wanna come over to mine? I still have some of that lasagna you liked in the fridge.” She asked softly as they slowed down into traffic. Rush hour in DC was never fun.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just have whatever’s at my place.” Spencer was being curt with his responses. Thus, the warning signs began flashing in her head.

“Are you sure? We can even pick something up from that one grocery store on our way home, something that goes well with the lasagna. I don’t mind cooking today.” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t shut her out like he usually did.

He shook his head, keeping his voice eerily level and his gaze was set on the road in front of him, “I just really wanna be home, Y/N.”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

A short silence ensued as traffic began to thin out. Cars that were stuck bumper to bumper were beginning to move.

“Is this about Derek leaving?” She asked tentatively. He sighed and pursed his lips in response so she continued, “You know he said he was always a phone call away.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Spencer said shortly, gazing out the window.

“You never want to talk about anything.” She said defeatedly, the car beginning to move freely on the road.

“Yeah, well maybe that’s true. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” Spencer spat, clearly growing impatient.

“Fine, don’t talk to me then. But talk to someone, anyone! Hell, talk to Derek himself. Tell him you hate him for leaving or whatever you’re feeling, but don’t take out your anger and unresolved feelings out on me, okay? I don’t deserve that! Everyday I try to get you to talk to me, but it seems like with every little step I take forward, you take two steps back. And it’s exhausting. It is fucking exhausting, Spencer.” She frowned, tears welling up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“I didn’t ask you for that! I didn’t ask for you to be my personal therapist. If I wanted to see a therapist, I would have gone to see one!” Spencer gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke.

“Spencer, in a relationship, we’re supposed to confide in one another. It’s supposed to be comforting. I don’t want to be your therapist, I just want you to talk to me!” She unconsciously began to press on the pedal, perhaps in an attempt to reach a destination quicker. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Relationship? You call this a relationship? We can barely stand to be in the same room together, Y/N.”

“And that’s why we talk it out. No relationship is ever perfect! You should know that, Spencer!” She shrieked, gripping the steering wheel in frustration.

“That’s not true. What I had with Maeve was perfect until it was ruined.” He uttered.

“Maeve?!” She squealed incredulously, “Really?! What you had with Maeve was perfect?! Spencer, what you had wasn’t real like us! You spoke to her over the phone once a week! You wrote to her in letters, where you have time to-to think and to respond! It isn’t like real life, it isn’t like you and me! What we have is real! I-I’ve lived with you, I’ve seen you torn to pieces, I’ve seen you laugh until you cry. That’s the you I fell in love with, not some fantasy I created of you over the phone!” She spoke but the words were garbled between incoming sobs that she was frantically wiping the remnants of off her cheeks. The same sobs she’d tried so hard to suppress. She was barely aware of the words that came out of her mouth.

“If what I had with Maeve wasn’t real, then why do I wish she were the one here with me instead of you?!” Spencer defended, unaware of how sharp his words were or how deeply they’d wounded her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, taking her already blurry vision off of the road in front of her to face him, “What?” She whispered brokenhearted, but the utterance was immediately swallowed by the unmistakable, earsplitting sound of metal clashing violently against metal. They had no choice but to succumb to the inundating darkness that rapidly overtook them both.

***

Spencer woke with a violent start and sat up in his own bed. He sighed in relief when he realized it was just a dream and it was morning again. Turning his head to look at the left side of the bed where she usually slept, he expected to find her there and was taken by surprise when she wasn’t. He rubbed at his face and eyes vigorously before hearing some clattering in the kitchen. With long strides he saw a blurry figure in the kitchen making coffee and walked towards it. 

He sighed in relief, “Hey, there you are. I just had the worst dream.” He huffed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck in his half-asleep state.

“Hey, good morning, lovebug.” She smiled and turned around to hug him tightly.

Something felt off. Something wasn’t right.

He’d heard that voice before. He pulled back from the hug and was met by…

It wasn’t Y/N. It was Maeve.

Spencer could barely control his expression as complete bone-stilling shock washed over his entire being, “M-Maeve?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She said, a kind smile resting upon her features. If Spencer wasn’t so shocked, he’d probably have laughed at the absurd truth of that statement. Maeve brought her hand up to his forehead, “Are you feeling okay?”

He didn’t even have time to be confused before he jerked back quickly at the touch of her hand, “I-uh, uh...I’m not feeling too g-good. Um...what’s happening?” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes again, almost like they’d be polished and he’d see more clearly. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still there. Right in front of him. There was no light emitting from behind her, she was totally opaque. It was eerily real.

Her face was full of color and life and she was dressed in one of his cardigans over her own set of matching pajamas. She was moving and...alive. And speaking to him. What is happening right now?

“But y-you’re...how are you here right now? Am I still dreaming? Am I...Maeve, am I dead?” Spencer shook his head in an attempt to wake back up.

She began to laugh and pulled out a chair for him to sit on, and so he did, still staring up at her in disbelief, “No, baby, you’re very much alive. You’re probably just still confused from whatever nightmare you had. Here, have some water.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, confused. Um, what day is it?” Spencer began to pat on his chest to make sure he was solid and alive. 

She looked at him curiously at his strange behavior, “It’s April 5th, 2016.”

April 5th? Derek left the BAU near the end of March. A light bulb went off in his head. 

The BAU! 

They’d have all the answers. He shot up from his seat immediately, “I uh, have to get to work.” Spencer rushed to his bedroom to get dressed. 

As he’s dressing, he spots a picture frame on his bedside table. He knows the picture by heart, it was of him and Y/N in the pumpkin patch last year. He’d had his arms tightly wound around her shoulders and was kissing her cheek. The leaves were the most colorful they’d ever been. He picked it up and almost dropped it immediately like it had burned his skin. It was the same picture. 

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen. In her place was Maeve.

No, no, no. This isn’t right. 

Spencer began to panic as he buttoned up his shirt, he threw on his cardigan and practically flew out the door. In the distance, he could hear Maeve in the background calling out for him to drink his coffee before leaving.

The train ride to work was truly a test of his patience. He couldn’t keep his knee still and checked his watch religiously. After the train stopped, was the first one off and ran as fast as his poor feet could take him. He stopped running when he got to the FBI Headquarters as to not alarm anyone, but raced to the sixth floor anyway.

As he opened the glass doors he searched frantically for any familiar face, “Garcia!” He yelled as he spotted her bright yellow clad figure across the bullpen. He pushed through tired agents and messy desks to get to her. Everything else was the same, the office was just as he remembered it.

“Good morning, boy wonder! How are you today?” She smiled graciously, holding a few files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Have you seen Y/N?” He asked impatiently. She pulled her brows together.

“Do you mean Y/N...Y/L/N?” She asked slowly, as if trying to recall her name.

“Yes, of course I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Who else would I be talking about?” Spencer asked, once again losing more of his patience.

“No, I haven’t seen her, to be honest. I don’t see much of the White-Collar Crime division up here unless Hotch asks for them. Why do you need Y/N? Is she okay?” Garcia casually answered, as if her answer hadn’t turned his world--this world--whatever the hell he was experiencing upside down.

“White-Collar crime? No, that can’t be right.” Spencer muttered to himself as his brain raced a million miles a second.

“Reid, is everything alright? Is there a possible case? Should I tell Hotch?” Garcia asked, but Spencer was barely listening.

 He was on his way back to the elevators again, leaving an extremely confused Penelope in his wake. He raced down to the fourth floor, to the White-Collar crime division. As the elevator doors opened, his eyes scanned the crowded floor for her.

“Dr. Reid! It’s nice to see you down here. What can I do for you?” An agent, Agent Seymour, he’s met perhaps once before asked him.

“Hi, yes, I’m um..looking for one of your agents. Agent Y/L/N.” Spencer stuttered, it was weird saying her name so formally. But he had to see it with his own eyes.

“Yes, of course, right this way. I think she just came in.” The agent led him to a desk in the middle of the bullpen and left him, saying that she was probably getting coffee and should be back an second. Spencer looked over her desk and compared it with how her desk at the BAU looked like. Gone were the trinkets and books he’d given her. Gone was the candle she never lit, but kept anyway because she said it smelled like him. It was like staring at a stranger’s desk, so desolate, so...un-special.

“Jeremy, stop. I almost spilled my coffee!” She giggled from behind him. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. He turned to see her and his lungs filled with relief as he spotted her familiar face across the bullpen. There she was, in all her glory. Looking as beautiful as ever. His Y/N. But the relief was ripped away all too suddenly as he watched on. She had her coffee in one hand and the other was swatting a very sheepish looking Jeremy, he assumed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just missed you.” He spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips. 

She blushed immediately and shied away, “Jeremy, we’re in the office!” She giggled again and pulled away from him, glancing around the office as if to check if anyone saw the moment of affection. Spencer’s blood boiled before he realized.

She looked so happy. 

So much happier than she ever looked when she was with him. His heart sank to his feet and he felt like he was incapable of lifting it back up to its rightful place in his chest. He wondered if this was the universe’s cruel, cruel way of letting him know just how shitty of a boyfriend he’s really been. Fire of envy festered in the place where his heart used to reside. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, resentment, or guilt. 

It all felt so strange. It felt like there was suddenly way too much pressure in his head. Before he could begin to compute the events unfolding before him, he realized she had spotted him at her desk and was now making her way across the bullpen, separating from her Jeremy. Before he could freak out, she was speaking to him. And all he could focus on was the shape of her lips and the faint memory of how they felt pushing against his.

“Dr. Reid! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?” She asked politely, but Spencer could tell that she was immeasurably confused by his presence, “Does Agent Hotchner need something from the White Collar crimes archives?”

Spencer panicked, “Yes! Um, he does...and um he asked me to ask you s-specifically. That’s why I’m here, heh.” He stammered like the nervous wreck he was and wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his pockets.

“Okay, that’s no problem. Just tell me the number of the file and I’ll get it for you.” She smiled slightly, setting her cup of coffee down on her desk. At least her coffee order was still the same as it was. 

She disappeared for a few moments after he gave her a random sequence of numbers. Spencer wasn’t even sure how his legs were still capable of holding himself up. When she came back and he got a whiff of her perfume, his body completely stilled. He knows that scent like the back of his hand, he’d given it to her for their first anniversary. The fresh scent nearly sent him into anaphylactic shock. He’d accepted the file and scurried back to the sixth floor without another word, once again leaving a confused woman in his wake.

Spencer collapsed at his desk and rubbed his head like it would somehow fix this. Whatever this was. Everyone around him operated so normally and went about their day while he was seconds away from losing his mind. 

Was he having a schizophrenic scare? Did his symptoms bleed into his 30’s even though they weren’t supposed to? What was this alternate universe where he’d lost the one good thing he’s ever known? How was he supposed to get back? Did he want to go back? What would happen if he did? Would it be fair for Y/N to stick with him when he knew she would be so much happier with someone else? Would he try harder for her? Would he stop shutting her out? Would the woman he loved so dearly ever love him back?

He must not have ever been deserving of her love and the universe was punishing him in the worst way possible. To have her be within arm’s reach but to never be able to hold her. 

Once upon a time, he would have given up anything and everything to be with Maeve, but that was before Y/N. Before she gave him a new life, one he wanted to live. One where waking up wasn’t such a task. One where seeing her smile at him was enough to make him forget about all his worries. But now Y/N looked at him with barely a sliver of recognition. There was no affection or adoration behind those eyes and maybe he deserved that.

But how was this universe expecting him to go on like everything is fine? Like he hadn’t just lost the love of his life? No one else in this warped version of Spencer’s reality was feeling as dejected as Spencer was.

“Reid, are you feeling alright?” The voice of none other than Aaron Hotchner brought him out of his stupor. Spencer had unknowingly been sobbing into his hands for the past few minutes. Hotch was taken aback at the extent of Spencer’s disheveled state.

“H-Hotch, I need to go home. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” Spencer packed his things and ran out the building before he realized he had nowhere to go. Home wasn’t his home anymore. He couldn’t exactly go back and see his dead girlfriend wandering around his apartment. He couldn’t be at work where Y/N was, so blissfully unaware of the crisis Spencer was in the middle of.

He wandered the streets of DC aimlessly as he tried to reorganize the events in his head and somehow make sense of them. Just a few days ago, he and Y/N had been holding one another on his couch. Sure, they’d been in a rut recently, but they still loved each other. At least that’s what he thought.

He walked and walked, miles on end, keeping his gaze on his feet as he tried to piece bits together. An IQ of 187 and he had absolutely no idea how whatever was happening to him happened. Even the multiple universes theory didn’t have his back. If he was ‘here’, where has ‘here’s’ Spencer gone? 

His feet had taken him to the local park, where he and Y/N used to sit under the stars. He found himself reminiscing the times they were together. He saw himself and Y/N in every couple that passed him by. Exhausted, Spencer took a seat on a patch of grass. He buried his face into his hands and tried to relieve himself of the headache he’d developed. 

“Hey, mister! Watch out!!” He heard a child yell way too loudly.

Groaning at the volume, he looked up to see the vague shape of a spinning baseball increasing in size as it moved closer….closer. Spencer had no time to react before he was knocked out cold by the baseball.

***

The first thing she’d heard was the incessant beeping of...something next to her. After that, she’d heard faint chatter. The voices sounded familiar but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She whimpered in pain which caught the attention of everyone in the room. The chatter ceased. 

“Y/N? Honey, it’s Pen, can you hear me?” A voice called. She fought to open her eyes.

Why was it so hard to open her eyes? It was like they were glued shut. Why did everything hurt? What is that smell?

She made a small noise of agreement to the voice that called, but could not coordinate herself enough to speak or open her eyes.

“Y/N, darling, you’re in the hospital, okay? You were in a car accident.” She spoke softly. 

But the words weren’t soft at all. Her words had opened up a Pandora’s box of previously suppressed memories. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. It was hard to breathe as she tried to remember the last moments before the fog. She remembered seeing him so angry, eyes so wild. Who is he? So...so close. She whimpered in pain as she fought the fog away. 

Blood.

So much blood. 

Pain.

So much pain.

The others watched as she began to writhe against the hospital bed in discomfort. Her eyes snapped open the second she saw his face in her mind, frantically searching the room for him.

Spencer.

“Sp-Sp--” She began, but couldn’t formulate the rest of the word. Exhausted and defeated by the lack of his presence, she lay back on the bed.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Spencer’s...Spencer’s fine, alright? You can’t see him right now, but you will be able to.” Those words were the last thing she heard before she slipped off into a silent slumber.

Hours later, she awoke again. But this time with enough strength to open her eyes immediately. Her limbs felt like they weighed tons, she could barely lift a finger. The room was empty besides a single chair with a blurry figure seated in it.

“Spencer?” She uttered almost inaudibly and the figure moved.

“Hey there. Sorry, I’m not Spencer.” The figure moved closer and she recognized the blonde sheen.

“JJ.” Y/N croaked with relief, happy to see a friend. JJ promptly gave her some water in a cup and adjusted the bed so that she would be able to swallow it.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking the cup from Y/N’s trembling hands.

Y/N shook her head imperceptibly, “Is...Spence--is he?” Y/N barely got to finish her thought before the tears settled in.

“No, gosh, no. He’s alive. Thankfully, you both made it out alive.” JJ said with relief, leaning her elbows against the side of her bed. Y/N felt her breathing get easier as she learned of the news. She blinked hard, trying to control the tears, but they just flowed out.

“It’s my fault, JJ.” she paused to take a deep breath and JJ took one of her hands in hers, “I was the one driving. I should have been more careful. I-I was so mad.” She sobbed, the tears escaping.

“Hey, no, it’s alright now. Okay, you’ve both made it out alive, that’s what’s important.” JJ rubbed Y/N’s knuckles.

“W-where is he? I need to see him.” Y/N attempted to sit up but winced from the sharp pain in her side.

“Um..yeah, about that. You can’t really get up yet. You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken leg, and a severe concussion.” JJ delivered the news and Y/N’s tears seemed to flow even harder.

Before she could respond, Hotch, Penelope, and a nurse walked into the room, “Oh, sunshine! It’s so good to see you awake!” Penelope squealed and kissed her wet cheek gently before wiping away her tears. The nurse checked all her vitals and gave her some extra information before she left. Y/N forced a smile and sat back, but something in the room felt heavy.

“What’s going on? What aren’t you guys telling me?” Y/N frowned, staring at her friends. She saw them all exchange a look and Hotch being the most straightforward man she knows decided to deliver the news.

“It’s Spencer. Unfortunately, Spencer’s brain has swelled significantly and doctors don’t know when he’ll wake. It’s already been almost 42 hours since the accident.” Hotch frowned, watching Y/N’s expression turn from a hopeful one into one of the most unbearable expressions of grief.

“Wh--what, what does that mean? Does that mean he’s--is he ever going to wake up?” She began to panic, her heart rate audibly increasing. She squeezed JJ’s hand as hard as she could.

“We can’t be sure yet, the swelling has to go down before doctors can make any claims. It’s still too early to say he’s in a coma, which is a good sign. He’s also been showing steady signs of improvement.” Hotch said and Y/N covered her face to shield herself away from the embarrassment of openly sobbing.

JJ and Penelope both looked at the bruised and broken girl on the bed with tears brimming their eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I have to see him. Please. Please, JJ.” Y/N sobbed, pleading at the woman beside her. JJ looked towards Hotch for guidance.

“I’ll speak with the Doctor and see what I can do.” Hotch nodded once and left the room. Aaron Hotchner was simply a man you couldn’t say no to. Thankfully, this extended to doctors as well. The next time someone came in, they entered with a wheelchair. After many screams and with the help of three nurses and a doctor, they managed to get Y/N into the wheelchair. They rolled her off into Spencer’s room where he lay motionless on a bed just like hers. The sight of him so frail with so many tubes going in and out of his orifices should have overwhelmed her, but she was just so happy to see him breathing. Once again she could barely control her tears as she weakly gripped at the hand that was closest to her. She pressed sloppy, uncoordinated kisses to the back of his hand and pleaded for him to wake.

The sight was overwhelming, even for Hotch. It was difficult to see their two youngest agents fight for their lives.

And for the next two days, this is how it went. Y/N would wake from her slumber, request to see Spencer and would not leave his side unless her Doctor absolutely required her to. She didn’t care about what he’d said to her before the crash, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She just wanted him here. She wanted to hear his voice again. What a luxury that was.

Slowly, Spencer began improving. He’d begin to open his eyes but shut them immediately afterwards. He’d make noises, even though they were very garbled, they were very welcome. Y/N would read to him, she’d have any one of their friends bring over his favorite books and she’d pass the time reading to him. It was difficult at first, but she’d improved too.

On the fifth day, he was awake and fully conscious before she even got to his room.

He heard his teammates speaking around him again and what a relief it had been to wake in a hospital bed rather than his own bed. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as they updated him of what happened in the recent days. 

It wasn’t real. 

None of it was.

Maeve wasn’t there, Y/N was his, no one else’s.

He’d been sure of it when they’d rolled her into his room and near his bed, eyes lit with hope surrounded by healing scrapes and bruises.

“Spence? Spencer!” She exclaimed, “Oh thank God you’re awake.” She whispered trying her hardest to lean towards him on the bed.

Spencer fought to raise his arm to touch her arm, “Y/N? A-are you really here?” He whispered back.

“I’m here baby, I’m here. I’m never leaving you.” She sobbed, leaning her face into his awaiting palm. Spencer’s chest filled with immense relief as his thumbs caught her fallen tears.

“Y/N, wait--Y/N, I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry about what I said. I remember. I didn’t mean it. You’re the one for me. Life is perfect with you.” Spencer frowned as tears of his own raced down his cheeks.

Y/N shook her head, “It’s okay, I don’t care about that anymore. I could have lost you. I-if I had lost you, I would have lost myself Spencer. I love you so much. I love you so much.” She repeated as she kissed the palm of his hand. 

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

How could he have ever wished to live without this? Without her?

The universe had taught him his lesson and boy was he glad he had learned it.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas - Little Movie Star Chapter Seven (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (05/08/2021)

Summary: Holidays were around the corner & you were more than a little anxious. How did one celebrate Christmas? You had no money for expensive gifts. Well, that meant you had to improvise. Hopefully, it was enough for them.

Words: 3,526

Warnings: Christmas Chapter in May?, anxiety, language, fluff, cute gift exchange <3

~2016~

That night, Jared left your room after you fell asleep. No matter how many times you begged him not to tell anyone about your panic attack, he could not do that. So as the party slowly died down, he pulled Jensen & Danneel aside & told them what he had witnessed. Obviously, they were concerned about you. Yet, they did not go to you right away. If you were ready to open up to them, you would. Still, they kept a closer eye on you from then on, noticing smaller signs of you struggling with anxiety. Jensen hated that you kept this part of you hidden. But he understood that there was a long way for you to fully trust a person & you simply were not there yet. They had to accept it, whether they liked it or not.

Supernatural had a lot to film before the holidays & Jensen had not really been a consistent part in Vancouver because of him flying back & forth. He felt bad when he told you he had to go back filming until the beginning of December. Brushing him off, you assured him that you guys would be fine alone. Besides, you also had Gen & the kids to entertain you. Over the short time, you had grown close to them. You loved whenever Tom & Shep came by to play with JJ & they wanted you to be a part of it. There were some times when Danneel, Gen & you would have a girls day together. At first, it was a lot for you, but you had grown to love them. At the same time, Danneel & you got to know each other way better, especially with Jensen being back in Vancouver.

Holidays were approaching fast & you had no idea how to deal with it. You had never celebrated Christmas before & were not sure if you should get your new family presents or not. Were they people who valued gifts? Would you receive some? Of course you would, you knew the Ackles’ by now. So you had to think of something. Fast. There was no way you could spend a lot of money on these presents. Not because you did not want to but because it would not be your money. You had saved up a little bit & it would do for small gifts. Then you had an idea.

“Where are you going?” Danneel asked when she saw you putting your shoes on. You coughed shortly, trying to think of an excuse. She knew you did not like going anywhere alone so she was surprised when she found you getting ready.

“Um, just wanna take a walk. I won’t be gone too long.” you promised her & before she could answer, you were out of the door. Danneel was confused by your behavior but she thought it to be positive that you were going outside on your own. Clearly, she had no idea that you were going shopping for Christmas presents.

After buying all the stuff that you needed, you started preparing the presents. You still had over a month left but you wanted to start earlier, just in case. It was not a lot, definitely not expensive, but you hoped they still liked it after unwrapping it. When you realized that you had no idea how to wrap a present, you embarrassingly had to check YouTube for a how-to video. After a few failed attempts & you growing frustrated because you clearly were too dumb to get it done correctly. In the end, you managed to wrap everything. It was by no means good or perfect but you could see what it was supposed to represent.

“How was filming?” you asked Jensen after he came back home.

“It was good. We had a lot of fun, as always.” he answered with a laugh.

“So…can you tell me what happens?” managing your best puppy dog eyes, something Jared had learned you over facetime while they were shooting, Jensen simply shook his head at you.

“Forget it, young lady. You’re a fan of the show, I won’t give away any spoilers, you have to wait like everyone else.”

“You don’t have to wait.” sighing exaggeratingly, you wanted to argue with him.

“Next season you won’t have to.” this made your smile grow wider. He was right, you would start in a few months & you could not wait to receive your first script. “Besides…The guys told me that they can’t wait to finally meet you & work with you.” Jensen looked at you, watching your reacting.

“Fingers crossed they won’t regret casting me.” you joked which made him laugh. He knew you were not serious but the meaning behind your words left an uneasiness in him.

“They won’t, trust me.” he reassured you. Hopefully he was right.

Decorating for Christmas was fun. Even Jared & Gen came over to help you out a little. You all planned to spend Christmas Eve together at your house so you could celebrate Christmas the next morning together as well. This would be the first time you were not entirely alone on this holiday. Hell, you had no idea how to celebrate Christmas in the first place. What were you supposed to do? Maybe you would be just fine if push came to shove.

Two more days until Christmas Eve & you could not help but grow more anxious the closer it got. Your fear of doing anything wrong was so big that you barely had time to enjoy the Christmas spirit. Whatever that was anyway…Knocking on the front door that belonged to the house next to yours, you fiddled with your hands, now feeling stupid for coming over in the middle of the night. They were probably asleep, they would not even hear your attempt of knocking. To your surprise, the door opened only a few seconds later.

“(Y/N)? You alright?” it was Jared, his hair tousled from being asleep. Shit, you did wake him. Great, now you were feeling even worse. Shaking your head, Jared ushered you inside quickly.

“What’s up? It’s…” he looked at his phone to check the time. “3 am.”

“I sneaked out.” you confessed.

“And you did that because..?” Jared was confused. Never before had you shown up at his house in the middle of the night. Whatever was bothering you, it was serious, he could tell. He noticed your trembling hands before you had the chance to answer him. Immediately, he walked you over to his couch to sit down. Making sure to send Jensen a quick text just in case he woke up & could not find you, he put his phone away again, focusing entirely on you.

“I’m sorry.” your voice was quiet & Jared felt his heart breaking.

“Don’t be.” he assured you. “Is there anything you need me to do for you?” he spoke softly, showing you that he was not about to leave you.

“I don’t know, I just…ugh.” throwing your head back in frustration, you were angry at yourself for being so childish. Yet, you did not know what else to do. Jared was the only person who knew a little about what you were struggling with. So you did what you thought was right. Knocking on his door at 3 am. Maybe it was not the best decision you ever made.

“Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.” he instructed & you followed through. “There you go. You can talk to me, (Y/N).”

“You’d think it’s stupid.”

“Try me.” his answer got a little laugh out of you. Jared’s eyes grew wider when you did.

“I’m scared of Christmas.” you admitted embarrassingly. When Jared did not say anything, you continued. “This is my first time celebrating & I don’t know what to do or what is appropriate or how you guys usually celebrate it or if you expect something from me or-“ Jared interrupted your rambling.

“Hey, hey, hey. (Y/N). I can assure you that nobody expects anything from you. Except maybe the fact that you are there. That’s all that matters. You being with us to celebrate Christmas together.” Jared’s eyes showed nothing but understanding. Your conversation went on for a little longer & when you wanted to leave his house, he told you to sleep in their guest room for the night. Too tired & exhausted to argue any more with him, you let him lead you to the spare room where you embraced the soft sheets right away. It felt good to open up to someone but you did not understand why you were okay with telling Jared but when it came to Jensen & Danneel, you chickened out.

When you woke up next morning, you got startled for a second, briefly forgetting about last night’s events. What would you tell Jensen & Danneel? Getting up & using the bathroom that was attached to the guest room, you were surprised to find clothes on the counter. Assuming Jared was the one who put them there, a small smile made its way on your face. A quick shower would not be too bad so you hopped inside quickly, letting the warm water soothe your skin. After drying off your body, you put on the clothes Jared had prepared for you. A pair of sweatpants & one of his hoodies. Well, you were not sure if he ever got this one back, if you were honest. You knew your way through the Padalecki’s house by now, due to you spending a lot of time there lately. Paddling through the hallway, you heard distant voices coming from the kitchen area.

“Good morning, (Y/N)! Breakfast is about to be done.” Jared spoke up before you could even see him. What was it with him & his spidey senses?

“Morning, Jared. Sorry again for las-“ coming to a halt right after walking inside the room. Jensen & Danneel were already sitting at the table. Shit, you did not expect that.

“I invited them over for breakfast.” Jared told you. Oh, really? You almost missed that.

“Yeah, I can see that.” chuckling & slowly walking over to a chair, your eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look Jensen & Danneel in the eyes. They were about to yell at you for sneaking out in the middle of the night without telling them anything.

“Am I dreaming or is Jared really making breakfast?” Gen walked into the room & everyone laughed at her comment, even you. Surprisingly, breakfast went by smoothly. Nobody mentioned last night & you were more than thankful for it. But you also knew that Jared most likely talked to Jensen & Danneel about what happened anyway. Who were you kidding, though? They were probably aware of the panic attack you had during the party a while ago. Jared only meant well but still…this entire thing made you extremely uncomfortable. You hated that more & more of yourself got revealed to them & you could not do shit to stop it. Being vulnerable in front of them was awful. Hell, they had more important things to worry about than you & your stupid problems.

“(Y/N)? Can you come here real quick, please?” Jensen asked you after being back in your house again.

“Sure, what’s up?” you were nervous about what he wanted from you but you had to give yourself that. You played it incredibly cool. Like there was nothing wrong at all.

“So for Christmas Eve, we’re doing a movie night, right?” he knew the answer to that question but still decided to ask. After nodding your head, he kept on. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?” that caught you off guard. He asked you? Why would he ask you?

“Um, I love “Home Alone” but the munchkins shouldn’t watch that.” you concluded. A while ago, whenever you talked about all the kids, you called them munchkins. You found it cute.

“True.” Jensen chuckled.

“I’m sure they’d love “Frozen”, though.” this made Jensen sigh loudly & you laughed at his antics. In all the time you had been with them, you sure as hell had watched that movie about thirty times. No kidding. Really.

“Okay, you know what? We’ll start off with “Frozen” & after the kids are asleep, we’ll watch “Home Alone”, is that alright?”

“Sure, if you guys don’t wanna watch another Christmas movie.”

“Not at all. This one’s perfect.” his smile eased you & you loved the fact that he wanted to include you in their tradition. Yep, Jared definitely told him.

Christmas Eve dinner was delicious & you did not feel anxious at all. Chatting, laughing & enjoying each other’s company was more than enough. Your movie marathon was perfect, too. During “Frozen”, you found yourself singing along to each song, as did the little ones. Well, they tried, at least. Everyone was happy to see you enjoying yourself. When you were like that, nobody could tell that you had a shitty past or that you were still struggling with the consequences of it. This was the first time that Jensen had heard you sing & he was surprised that your voice was actually pretty damn good. Maybe you would sing with him one day, who knew? The kids went to sleep & the five of you watched “Home Alone”, happy that the others were enjoying this movie as well. Before you guys went to bed, too, Jensen, Danneel, Jared & Gen placed a bunch of presents under the big, decorated tree. You wanted to wait to add your presents to the other stacks until everyone was fast asleep. So you sneaked out of your room later that night to do exactly that.

Three kids jumping up & down on your bed woke you from your peaceful slumber. Each of them yelled at you to get up because Santa brought so many presents overnight. Smiling at their excitement, you dragged yourself out of bed & went downstairs. The others were already there. Stopping for a short moment, you took everything in & processed the scene in front of you. This was all so new to you. Everybody had a big smile plastered on their face. Was this what you had missed all these years? JJ took your hand & dragged you over to where the others were already seated.

Presents started being exchanged, kids first, of course. Grabbing three small packages, you walked over to JJ & kneeled down to her. The twins were asleep but you planned on giving them their presents later today. You bought a small, soft blanket for each of them.

“There you go, princess. Merry Christmas.” JJ took her present from you & lost no time in unwrapping it. Her smile widened & she proudly held up the pink magic wand you got her. But there was more to this present.

“I got this when I was your age. Bill gave it to me because I always wanted to be a princess in a huge castle on a hill somewhere. I want you to have it, JJ. Take care of it.” she threw her hands around your neck & you pulled her closer. Danneel had tears in her eyes when she heard your story. Jensen wrapped an arm around her. He, too, was moved by what you told JJ. They did not expect you to give any of them any presents. Yet, you went out of your way.

“Tom? Shep?” their heads perked up when they heard their names being called. You each handed them a package, glad that they were too young to care about how neatly your wrapped them.

“Merry Christmas.” smiling when they started unwrapping their gifts, they let out excited squeals when they saw what you got them. They were the biggest Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fans. Tom got Leonardo & Michelangelo, Shep held Donatello & Raphael in his small hands. They thanked you again & again until you laughed at them, assuring that it was more than fine.

“Just, don’t argue over them, okay? You gotta share those.” they nodded at you & immediately started playing with the figures. Alright, at least the kids were happy with their gifts.

“Jared? Gen?” you eyed them nervously. “I-I know it’s not much but…Merry Christmas.” you handed them their gift, fiddling with your hands. Jared let Gen open it. A small picture frame revealed itself. You put a picture of the three of you inside. You took it in their backyard, all of you wearing the “Family Has Your Back” hoodie.

“This is more than enough.” Gen started.

“It’s perfect, (Y/N).” Jared finished & waited for you to make a move. If you were the one to initiate a hug, they would not decline. Their smiles got wider when you pulled them into a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas, guys. This is a thank you for everything that you’ve done for me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you..” before you got too emotional, you handed them their package. It was a little bigger & therefore poorly wrapped. “Sorry about the wrapping paper. I suck at that.” you laughed uncomfortably. Danneel only brushed you off, telling you that it was just perfect. They both gasped when they saw what you gave them. You made a painting of the two of them in a pop-art style. Thinking it would fit perfectly in the house & all.

“We need to find the perfect place for it.” Danneel squealed to which Jensen nodded.

“Thank you, angel.” Jensen pulled you into a tight hug, one that Danneel joined a second later. “You have talent.” he added after releasing you. Blushing at his words, you simply thanked him. A while ago, you would have argued, telling him that you were not that good. But you had improved when it came to accepting compliments. The others kept exchanging gifts & you sat by, watching their excitement whenever another present got opened. Slowly, your mood shifted. Maybe you would not receive anything from them? After all, you were still new to the family. That was okay. Did not change you from being sad about it, though. Not wanting to show your disappointment, you kept a smile on your face.

“I believe there is one person left without any presents.” Jensen spoke up & you looked at him with your head tilted. They did not forget about you? There were still two packages left & he grabbed one, Jared took the other.

“Merry Christmas.” all of them said, even the kids joined in. Why were there already tears threatening to spill? Nothing had happened yet.

“That’s not your actual present. But we thought it was the perfect timing to give it to you today.” Jared put one neatly wrapped gift in your lap & when you saw all of them waiting for you expectantly, you went to open it. No way. Was that real?

“Seriously?” you were shocked when you took a closer look at it. “The script for the next Avengers?” they nodded at you.

“Came in a few days ago. I actually wanted to give it to you right away but Danneel had the idea of giving it to you for Christmas.” Jensen explained.

“Thank you! This is…wow.” no words could be formed. You had to read through it later, for sure.

“Here.” Danneel handed you the second gift. “That’s from all of us & from a few others.” sending you a wink, you were left confused. JJ, Tom & Shep sat themselves around you, not wanting to miss anything. Delicately, you unwrapped the present, only for it to reveal a small book. It read “SPN Family” on the cover. There was also a small anti-possession symbol pictured. You were confused but when you asked what it was, they simply told you to have a look at it. Opening the first page, you could not control the tears any longer.

“(Y/N),

this book is filled with letters, pictures & more. Not only will you find our names in there, you will see that almost everyone who’s part of our Supernatural crew has left you a little something behind until you’ll join us on set. Read through it whenever things get tough or whenever you need something to cheer you up. Don’t forget that we’re always here for you, no matter what. You’re family & we care for you.

Merry Christmas, angel”

Jumping up, you ran over & gave each of them a tight hug. You let the tears flow freely, no longer caring about showing your emotions in front of them. The kids dragged you back to the couch, wanting to show you what they contributed to the book. All of them drew a few pictures & you were in awe. That was more than you could have ever imagined.

“Thanks, really. I-I don’t even know what to say.” wiping away your tears, they knew that it was the right decision to get you this present. It almost did not get finished but they managed to get it done in time. And it was freaking worth it.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter (05/08/2021)

Published (05/01/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624​, @imaginationisgrowth​, @stoneyggirl​, @alyispunk​, @thevelvetseries​, @multifandomlover121​, @samsgirl93​, @supernatural3002​, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector​, @vir-tual, @bellero​, @sergantbuckybarnes​, @namelesslosers​ (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[sergeantsporks]

Zoe Appreciation Week Day 5: ROTT

You need to get out of Arcadia.

It’s not safe.

Zoe stared at the text from Douxie, willing him to send something else, something useful. How long? What was going to happen? Did she need to evacuate anyone else? But nothing else came through.

Just typical.

Zoe shook her phone. “YOU ARE THE MOST FRUSTRATING MAN ALIVE!” She tapped her fingers on the Hextech wizard bar. Connie had gone on a field trip with Shannon—she should be out of Arcadia. Everyone else, though…

“Everything alright?”

Zoe scooped Gerald up. “Something’s going to happen. Something bad. I need you to tell the other hedge wizards—tell them that we need to ward the city, and get the citizens out.”

“What about you?”

Zoe ran for her own personal pet project—a scrying bowl. “I’m going to see if I can get a better fix on what’s going on.”

“Zoe, that thing hasn’t worked once!”

“Well, it has to this time. Get the other wizards. I’ll meet up with you.”

Zoe gripped the edge of the scrying bowl as Gerald scrambled away. Focus. Show me the danger.

She let her magic pour into the water, and pink lightning danced along the surface, crackling and popping.

Come on! Work!

The water sparked, then turned a light pink.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…”

Zoe touched the water gently, and with a jolt, she was yanked out of her body, traveling from the water to a stormcloud, where she danced like lightning, darting back and forth. She could see the glittering lights of Arcadia.

And stomping towards it, a behemoth of stone and lava, creating the volcanic storm she was using as a power conduit.

Zoe willed herself to go down to it, and in a flash of lightning, she did, crashing into its rocky surface. A singular wizard was on top, steering the thing towards Arcadia. The wizard stopped, then turned to face her.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” they hissed.

Fire surrounded Zoe, penning her in. Two ropes of fire seized her wrists, burning. With a yell, Zoe streaked back into the stormclouds and then out of her scrying bowl and back into her own body.

“Zoe!” Gerald yelped, “What is it?!”

Zoe sat up, checking her wrists for burns. The other hedge wizards were watching her expectantly. “It’s huge—it’s magical—we need to evacuate. We can’t beat this thing, we need to make sure the citizens get out.”

“49B soldiers have arrived,” someone volunteered, “They’re handling evacuation.”

“Okay. Alright. We can’t beat it, but we can try to minimize damage—ward everything you can get your hands on, put durability spells on the streets—it drips lava, fireproof what you can.”

Her coworkers nodded and dashed off. In the darkness, Zoe could see sparks of magic as they prepared the city for the creature that was coming.

“He can’t fight that thing,” she said in a small voice.

“What?”

“Douxie! That moron is going to get himself killed!”

“Maybe he won’t try to—”

Zoe raised one eyebrow at her familiar. “I’m sorry, were you about to suggest that he might not try to fight it?”

“You’re right, that’s unlikely. There’s nothing we can do, though.”

“I can—”

“What, help him fight it? You said it yourself, we can’t beat it. We need to get out of here while we can—Douxie sent you that text so that you’d be safe.”

Zoe growled. “Augh! Fine! C’mon, let’s get out of here before that thing squashes us.”

As she and Gerald reached the city limits, the stone and lava creature arrived. Zoe watched as lava hissed down, flowing around a fireproofing spell.

Then, Zoe saw flashes of blue, moving up the side of the creature.

“Zoe!” Gerald squeaked, “Zoe, you’re strangling me!”

Zoe looked down to realize her grip on the rat’s middle had tightened. She set him on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. But…”

“That’s his magic,” Gerald said with a sigh.

Zoe watched several of the bright blue specks fall. And then one, one fell, and she just knew. She ran back towards the city, blasting past the military barricade, sprinting towards that falling blue dot until it disappeared into the buildings.

Moments later, a blue beam went off. Zoe slowed to a stop. Something was… off. She dashed back to Hextech—she’d never find them just running around. She started the scrying bowl, which hissed at her.

“One more vision,” she begged, “One more—I need to know.”

As she lifted from her body, the world tilted and swirled, and she knew in her bones that Something Had Happened.

And then she woke up in her bed.

“What the…”

Gerald scampered up. “Hey, you slept in, you’re going to be late for work!”

Zoe rubbed her eyes, checking her phone. “…Where’s my screwdriver, my phone’s date is broken.”

Gerald peered at it. “Uhhhh, no its not.”

“It’s not 2016, Gerald!”

Gerald looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Yeah it is. Has been for the last nine months. Are you okay?”

What had they done?! Zoe dashed outside, running right into Douxie. She grabbed his face. “Hey! You’re alive! You’re okay!”

“Yyyyyeaaaah? Should I… not be?” Douxie backpedaled. “Wait, did you try a hex on me or something?”

“No, I… Hey, what happened with the trollhunter? And the titans?”

“The what now?”

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Zoe ran down the streets, straight to Arcadia Oaks High. Jim Lake Jr. He’d done something, hadn’t he?! When he finally left the school at the end of the day, she grabbed the front of his shirt. “You,” she hissed, “What did you do?! Why doesn’t anyone remember the titans?!”

A look of panic crossed his face. “Why didn’t you forget them?!”

“I don’t know—I did a spell. It doesn’t matter. Undo it, right now.”

Jim looked down at the ground. “I can’t.”

“You’d better! I got too much done in the last couple of years for it to all be undone now!”

“No, I mean, I can’t. I reset the world. We just… have to live out the last couple of years again.”

Zoe glared at him. “You have to re-live out the last couple of years. I’m not doing this all over again.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “And neither is Douxie, you hear? You. Stay. Away. From. Him.”

“You can’t change fate,” Jim called after her as she stomped away, “If it’s destined to be, it’ll happen.”

“Destiny can suck it,” Zoe yelled back, “I hope you’re ready for the wrath of a wizard, because I am going to make your new life miserable.”

[lost-in-the-80s]

Bloodletting part II - Prologue

Words: 1,820k

Summary: Guns n Roses are already known for being dangerous, but how dangerous would they be if they were vampires? Would it be a wiseful decision to fall for one of them?

A/N: Next week the x reader part will start! I’m making a playlist inspired by this (sorry, I just couldn’t hold myself sjdhs). I’ll be posting one part every Tuesday. Also, from now and on, tag list will be at the end of the fic :)

Some initial information: this series will take place in 2020, but without the pandemic. If you already read part 1 (which was posted last year) please ignore any pairs that the boys have had (Slash’s case), here they are all single.

Moodboards | Part I | Part III

Los Angeles, 2016.

“What the fuck died in here?” Izzy asked as he entered Axl’s victorian house in Los Angeles.

It was night outside and all the curtains were closed, putting the entire house in complete darkness. If Izzy wasn’t a vampire, he surely wouldn’t be able to see anything.

The smell of blood and something decomposing had caught his nostrils as soon as he opened the door, making him cover his nose with his hand.

“I did.” Axl’s hoarse voice came from upstairs, he wasn’t yelling, he knew his friend could hear even his breath from the floor below.

Izzy rolled his eyes, starting to climb the stairs. “Yeah, but it was almost a thousand years ago.”

Reaching the second floor, Axl was sitting on the floor, a bottle of Scotch Whisky in his hands as his shirtless figure looked at his friend.

“Shit, when was the last time you took shower?” Izzy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The redhead shrugged. “Am fuckin tired, Iz.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in that I Hate Myself phase again.” The brunette started walking through the corridors, going in the direction of the decomposing smell that had gotten stronger.

“I fucking do! I hate what I am.”

“It’s useless to hate yourself, we already talked about it.” He stopped in front of a door, the smell was definitely coming from behind it.

“And what am I supposed to do, Isbell?”

Izzy opened the door, covering his nose one more time when he saw the dead body of a girl inside, she didn’t look older than 25 and was dead for at least a couple of hours now. A human would never be able to smell her though.

“Axl, if I know you well, and I like to think I do, this happens every time you’re alone.”

“I’m always alone, Isbell.”

“I told you to go to New York with me last year.” He closed the door, moving closer to the redhead.

“I’m not going to fucking New York.”

“And what are you going to do then? Kill yourself? You know that it’s impossible.”

“Believe me, I know.”

Izzy frowned, squatting down in front of him, a circular bruise on his chest indicated that he had shot himself there, not so long ago.

He shook his head. “When did you do it?”

“Last night.”

“How did it feel?”

“I passed out. Woke up a few minutes later and it fucking hurt, I had to take the fucking bullet out of it. Wasn’t nice.”

“At least it’s almost healed.”

“I’m fucking tired of not feeling anything. Not even this fucking whisky can make me drunk anymore.” He threw the bottle on the other side of the corridor, its glass hitting the wall and breaking in many pieces.

Izzy rubbed his forehead. “That’s it! Pack your stuff, you’re going to New York with me.”

“I’m not fucking daeing that.” He got up, entering his office and getting a cigarette in his wooden box.

“You’re becoming reckless. There’s a body in your house and at some point, someone will miss the girl. It’s not 1720 anymore, they have cameras everywhere now, it’s a matter of days until they find you.”

Axl looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

Izzy removed his blazer, placing it on a chair in front of the desk and removing his tie. “I’m gonna take care of the body, be ready when I’m back.”

---

The flight to New York was quiet, Axl was too proud to thank his friend for helping him and Izzy was in his own world, enjoying the silence in the first class while drinking some gin.

Arriving in the city around midday, they were quite a sight. Izzy in a suit with a long and expensive grey coat over it, matched with his black sunglasses and grey-black hat, while Axl wore a pair of black ripped jeans and a leather jacket, also wearing black sunglasses.

It was winter in New York, as they walked towards the uber who would drive them to Izzy’s new house in the city. A three-floor gothic construction from the XIX century, which he had sent some pictures to Axl via letters, since Axl refused to have a cell phone.

“What the fuck are you doing in New York after all?”

“Business, Axl.”

He knew that Izzy had business in many places, he always knew what to do with his money, no wonders why he was the richest vampire he knew. But the fact that Izzy changed Amsterdam for New York was still something he couldn’t justify.

“And why moving here?”

“There are some cool people around.”

“Since when dae ya care about who’s around?”

“I do feel lonely sometimes too, Axl.”

And then silence was spread in the car again.

After almost an hour, they stopped in front of a huge house, its walls were in exposed brick and the garden in front had some trees that had lost their leaves with the cold weather.

Exiting the car, Izzy stopped on the sidewalk, getting a cigarette from his pack and offering one to Axl, which he silently thanked. He lighted both cigarettes before speaking up:

“There will be some people inside, I want you to be cordial to them.”

Axl scoffed. “And since when ah umnae cordial?” He passed through Izzy, stopping in front of the front door while waiting for the brunette.

Izzy rolled his eyes, but opened the door. The house was in the same way as when he left, the smell of old books and wooden, mixed with a little alcoholic scent, along with a small hint of blood coming from the freezers in the basement.

“Hello, Izzy.” A blonde guy, smaller than them, approached the two of them, he was coming from the kitchen and there was a huge smile on his face. “You must be Axl.”

Axl looked him up and down, scanning his figure. He wore blue jeans and a red bomber jacket.

He can’t be older than 20, Axl thought to himself.

“Ya, I am.” He passed through the blonde, looking at every piece of the house. “Where’s my room, Izzy?”

“Hello, Steven.” Izzy chose to ignore the redhead, moving towards the fireplace room.

“How was your trip?”

“It was good, Steven. Thanks for asking.”

“Is he English like you and Slash? He sounds different.”

Axl averted his eyes to the blonde, with a mortal glare. “Ah umnae fucking English. I’m Scottish!”

“Oh, sorry! Well, but you are all British, so it’s almost the same thing right?” He smiled, trying to start a conversation.

“Izzy, what is this bampot talking about?” Axl started to move towards Steven, but Izzy stopped him.

“Control yourself.” He gave Axl a stern look before taking a long breath.

“You must be Axl. Nice jacket.” Another blonde showed up, he had a pack of chips in his hands and he entered the room. He was taller than the rest of them and looked like he was 21 or 22. He wore black jeans and a denim jacket on top of a grey sweater.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Duff.” He pointed to himself before throwing himself on the couch.

“The guy in the library is Slash, he’s English too.” Izzy pointed towards the library, to which Axl only nodded in understanding. “Come, I’ll show you your room.”

Picking up his suitcase, Axl followed him up the stairs, lots of old pictures of Izzy and his friends were on display on the wall, and Axl almost smiled when he saw a picture of the two of them together.

Izzy stopped at the end of the corridor, opening a door on his right side. Inside the room, the walls were in a cream color and the furniture, the floor was in the darkest shade of wood Izzy could’ve found. There was a huge bed with white sheets and a white big bathroom, with a big mirror inside. The room’s windows gave Axl a view of the front yard and the street.

“Good enough for you?” Izzy asked.

“Ya.” He placed his suitcase on the floor and sat at the edge of the bed, watching as Izzy sat on the white armchair in front of the windows.

“Why did you go after me, Iz?”

Izzy took a deep breath, inhaling the last of his smoke. “I had a dream.” He exhaled the smoke. “You were in a lake and you were drowning, and you didn’t seem to make a move to get out of there.” He paused for a second. “I thought something was wrong with you.”

Axl nodded, staying in silence for a while before speaking up again. “And who are these people?”

“I met Slash on the plane to here, we were sitting next to each other, and we obviously knew what we were. He turned out to be a nice guy, but he had nowhere to stay here, I told him he could stay with me for a while.”

“And what about the other two?”

“Duff’s the owner of a bar, not too far from here, he’s cool, introduced me to some nice music. He used to live in the apartment on top of it, but it needed some reforms, and he’s staying here ever since the reform started.”

“And when will the reform be over?”

“They finished it about 3 months ago.”

“Why is he still here then?”

“Because we’re friends, just like Steven, who’s a friend of Duff’s, he was here all the time, and then I simply decided to tell him to stay permanently.”

“Since when do you care about friends?”

“I know that you’re in a terrible mood, and that the idea of living with other people is strange for you after so many years living alone. But the thing is: we all want the same thing Axl.”

“And what’s that?”

“A family.”

Axl stared into his eyes.

“It’s the only thing we can’t have, and even though we are very different, we are a family, or a clan, or whatever. We miss having people who care for us around, and we miss the feeling of belonging to something. You’ll understand it, not today, but you will some time, and then you’ll be thankful for having these people around you.”

Izzy got up, leaving the room and closing the door behind him, leaving Axl to think about his words.

---

Turns out that Izzy was right. In the first weeks, Axl would stay on his own, only joining during their daily meal and not saying a word. But after a while, he started to loosen up. He and Duff got really along, and he made Axl see the good part of Steven's and Slash’s personality.

And now, after four years living together and being this so-called clan, they learned how to coexist with each other and ended up becoming close friends, or even brothers, Steven dared to say. And in their own weird way, they became a family.

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @bigdaddylars @dynamitebabe @tuffduff @mitchgrassified @gamsbeans @hooloovooblue @normatural @axlsbabygirl @mudkicker @dazeduchess @izzysjujuhounds @pinkpatiencecreepers @smokeandmirrorz

Add yourself to my tag list :)

[12yeahiminluvwu]

Calm

pairing - Rudy Pankow x Little Sister!Reader

summary- Requested by @deathcompass :) “hi! your writing is amazing :) i was wondering if you could write something with drew/rudy where his younger sister has a panic attack and he helps her calm down because she gets them a lot?”

word count- 1.9+ 

warning(s)- panic attack tw, anxiety tw, swearing (maybe? idk), kinda cliche… gives me 2016 wattpad vibes ngl, the ending sucks i’m so sorry! very loosely edited

series masterlist 

masterlist

Disclaimer: I’ve only ever had very mild panic attacks so I’m going to use my own experiences to write this, but I do understand that they can be very severe and I’m not in any way trying to romanticize anything at all. I love you, stay safe <3 

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

“Hey bug, you ready to come home?” You sighed, realizing that summer was ending and you would be having to go back to Alaska for school. It hadn’t snuck up on you, but some part of you had hoped that you’d get to stay with your brother forever. 

“I guess…” You mumbled back, not wanting to hurt your parents but also not wanting to go back. 

“You’re all set to fly out in a few days, we can’t wait to see you!” Your mom exclaimed. You could hear the excitement in her voice which only broke your heart even more. The familiar feeling began to bubble up in your chest, making it seem like you couldn’t breathe in all the way, like something was taking up space in your lungs preventing you from getting enough oxygen. This hadn’t happened all summer, not since you came to live with Rudy. It had been so long since you felt it, you almost forgot the feeling altogether. 

“Sweetie? You still there?” Your mom’s voice brought you out of your own head and back into the real world, where a few minutes of silence had passed. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. I’ll see you soon. Love you guys.” You quickly ended the conversation, wanting to get as far away from your phone as possible, as your mind assimilated it with the panic you were feeling. 

This time, you were able to keep yourself calm.

--

“Baby, do you really have to leave?” Your boyfriend asked, his arms sliding around your waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The feeling of his skin on yours always ignited a fire within you, one you didn’t want to put out. You leaving in a few days felt like a storm threatening to wash away the wildfire the two of you had created together. 

“Yeah… I have to go back to school, my brother is gonna be filming season two of his show in Charleston, I’d have no one to stay with…” You mumbled into his chest, soaking in his scent, aching to remember every piece of him. Part of you wanted to believe that a long-distance relationship with him would work but the rest of you knew that it wasn’t fair to either of you. 

“Go to school here, with us! You could stay with me!” One of your best friends chimed in. A spark of hope lit up in your stomach, maybe you could stay. But then, like clockwork, that same feeling from earlier began to slither its way through your body. Your mind raced to all the things you’d be leaving behind, all the friends you had back home that you hadn’t seen in months. 

But as your mind raced and you sat with your new friends, and boyfriend (something you never thought you’d get back home), you realized the people in this room meant more to you than the people back home, who were only still friends with you because they didn’t have anyone else to be friends with. That still didn’t keep the panic at bay, but once again, you were able to keep yourself calm. 

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

“Roo, I wanna talk to you about something…” You said, coming into his room that night. 

“What’s up kid?” He asked, watching you sit down next to him on his bed. The way you twiddled your thumbs and chewed on your lips told him you were nervous about something, his mind racing to find out what it could be. The energy in the room shifted, and it was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Taking a big gulp, you started trying to verbalize your thoughts, even though it felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“So… I was thinking- maybe- I… I could stay here with my friends and go to school here. She said she’d- she’d talk to her mom and ask if it was ok. But like, I would- I would need your help talking to mom and dad because I don’t want to hurt their feelings, but I really- really don;t want to go back home…” You stumbled out, hoping that he would understand what you had just word vomited at him. Slowly, you began to feel the burn of tears coming to your eyes, and desperately you tried to hold them back. 

“You want to stay here? How come?” He asked. He sat up, coaxing you into his arms cause he knows it calms you down. You laid your head on his chest and kept trying to take deep breaths as he stroked your hair. 

“I feel more understood by the people I’ve met here than I do by anyone in that stupid little town…” You whispered, “I’ve gotten closer to them in 3 months than I did to anyone back home in 16 years, Rudy. I have no one... no one real anyway.” 

“So you want to stay here in LA?” He asked again and you nodded. The sound of his voice was distant, sounding miles away. You did your best to focus on your breathing but that focus was quickly slipping away as your breathing became more sporadic and uneven. It was as if something was sitting on your chest, preventing you from getting enough air. 

“I’ll talk to mom and dad and see what they say. Kiddo, I need you to focus on your breathing ok? Focus on taking a deep breath all the way in and breathing all the way out.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair as you gasped in deep breaths and let the tears fall down your face. Slowly, the room started opening back up and even though the tears still ran down your face and your hands shook like an earthquake, it got a little easier to breathe. 

“That’s it, just like that,” He cooed. You sighed at the sound of his voice, remembering when you used to get these all the times before Rudy left home. After he was gone, they picked up even more and your mom and dad just didn’t quite know how to ground you like Rudy did. He was always there to protect you, it was a kick in the gut when he left you. But here he was, calming you down.

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

Rudy sat up in the living room, the next morning. You were still asleep, somewhat exhausted from last night's events. The phone rang and he took a deep breath, hoping for nothing more than to be able to get you what you want. 

“Hey Rudy! How have you been?” Your guys’ mom answered and he smiled, hearing the happiness in her voice. 

“Hey mom, is dad around?” He asked and heard shuffling on the other end. Suddenly his dad's voice sounded from the line and they got a little lost in simple conversation. Rudy then remembered exactly why he called them and got down to business. 

“So I wanna talk to you about Y/n…” He trailed off and your parents went a little quiet. He started to feel the sweat gather on his palms and gulped down the nervous lump in his throat, noticing the shift of energy in the call. 

“Is she ok? Did something happen to her?” Your dad spewed out, worried that something might have happened to his little girl, but he shook his head before remembering they couldn’t see him. 

“No no no she’s fine, but I know you guys are gonna be a little skeptical about what I’m going to tell you,” He sighed before continuing on, “ She wants to stay here for the school year…” 

The line went quiet. He could tell his parents were shocked, the fact that their daughter didn’t want to come home was a lot to process and they had no idea what the reasoning behind it was. 

“What do you mean? She doesn’t want to come home?” The woman gasped, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“She’s ade some really awesome friends, people she’s closer to than anyone she is with at home. She’s already lined up a place to stay while I’m shooting. I think you’d really like them actually. It’s one of her best friends and her mom, they’re really nice! I think you guys should change Y/n’s ticket so that you guys can come down here…” He rushed out, hoping they understood him, but he was met with silence once again. 

“Uhm… We’re not making any promises, but we’ll come down there so we can talk about this as a family…” His dad said and he nodded with a smile, agreeing. 

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

You woke up feeling the events from last night lingering in your shoulders and neck. 

It was a familiar ache that only ever happened after an attack, a muscle tightness that made it feel as though you’d been sleeping on concrete for the past week. Doing your best to roll out the soreness, you walked into the kitchen to see Rudy with a look on his face that you couldn’t read. 

“So… I talked to mom and dad, and they’re gonna come here so we can talk about you staying!” He smiled and you felt like a little bit of the weight you’d been feeling lifted. 

“When are they coming?” 

“They’ll be here tomorrow,” He said, coming over and hugging me tightly, “We’ll get you where you need to be kid, promise!” 

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

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Your parents sat across from you and your brother, silently. You could tell they were deep in thought, but it didn’t help the shaking that began to take over your hands. 

All you wanted was for them to understand. They weren’t always great at that… 

“Mom, are you gonna say anything?” You finally asked, wincing when she let out a sign.

“Y/n, I just don’t like the idea of you living with someone you just met three months ago....” She said finally and your dad nodded along with her. 

“You don’t understand though. I’m closer to them than I am to anybody back home! I know her and I know that she cares about me, her mom cares about me! When I wasn’t here, I was there. I’m practically already a part of the family! She’s had me and Rudy over for dinner so many times I lost count. She’s hosted dinner parties for the cast because she wants to get to know the people close to Rudy and I because she cares! She’s like a second mom to me. And I love you guys, I really do. But I’m just not happy at home! It doesn’t feel like home anymore. This… This feels like home.” You stood up, pacing back and forth, your voice gradually raising to try and hold in the tears that threatened to fall. 

“Baby…” 

“Momma…” You whispered pleadingly, looking her in the eyes for the first time since she’d arrived and finally letting the tears fall. Rudy was next to you in seconds, pulling you into his arms, doing his best to keep you grounded so you didn’t fall off the edge.

The silence was filled by your sniffles and Rudy’s whispers into your ear. Your parents looked at each other with a knowing look in their eyes. It was obvious that they were not your home anymore, and no matter how much it broke their hearts they knew they had to let you go.

“Y/n, honey, we want to meet the family first, but we think you should stay. We want you to be happy bug, and if this is where you’re happy, then this is where you should be!” Your mom finally said, coming over and wrapping you and your brother in a tight hug. Your dad followed in suit and soon enough you started to feel yourself calm down.

[wigglebox]

Hi! Thank you for the post about Natalie Fisher's tweets. I reblogged them because it was the first thing I saw after I woke up and just felt so deflated... but at the same time I thought, hey, maybe it IS wise to not expect anything? I'm usually so positive but this situation is stressing me out. Sometimes I hate being so invested in this show. I've been watching it for 10+ years and went through so many disappointments it's hard to stay positive sometimes. Thanks for being the voice of reason!

I was going to answer privately but I think maybe it’s better to share my answer publically if you don’t mind. 

One thing I’m never sure of, other than Sera Gamble, is what people had been disappointed in, so I’m not gonna dive into that either lol. 

The way I’m looking at it is that this situation right now we find ourselves in is literally nothing else you can compare within this show because the show (well this aspect of the show, the relationship part) had been building for so long. We’re seeing what it was building up to. It’s the finale so situations are not the same as they were in like, season 7 or whatever.  This is my way of saying that since we can’t compare this situation to any other situation in the show, I don’t think it’s unacceptable to get your hopes up a little. 

BUT—that depends on you and how you know you’d react if someone was wrong or something didn’t go as you saw it, because that will happen to some degree, None of us can see the future. 

So you have to measure your level of optimism against how far you think you’d fall if things didn’t go how you expected them to—or indeed—if you expected anything at all. 

The biggest thing that I want to point out that also is roughing everyone up a little is (and I’m speaking American terms here):

2020 election

Pandemic which is so horrible in this country

The fact we were supposed to have seen this all in May but everything got paused for months so it’s just been building anticipation anxiety

The fact that our comfort show (if it is indeed your comfort show) is about to end.

And even if you’re not American and the first two don’t apply to you, then the bottom two do, especially if you’ve been watching for over 10 years. 

At the heart of all of this, I think that’s tripping a lot of us up. And you may sit there going “No I don’t feel anxious I don’t feel nervous about any of that” but anxiety is stealthy, and we know that.

Before November 3rd (election) I had been just a little stir crazy and jumpy because I knew that day at work (I work in the news industry) was going to be crazy and I was going to be on my own, and the day after, and I had been so so so nervous we were actually going to get a presidential call that night and I was going to wake up to bad news again like in 2016. It was anticipation anxiety (and a little low grade PTSD).

“What ifs” are anxiety’s attempts are worming its way into your brain and parking there.

There is a chance I am wrong about everything. Statistically, that is a possibility, and now do I think everything I think will happen will actually happen, but I think at the end of the day is yea, maybe some nerves if Confession Part 2 will happen or if someone will come back in the episode, and that’s natural—but at the end of the day anticipation anxiety is kicking our imaginations into high gear, bringing back alllll the memories of alllll the other episode that maybe weren’t our favorites or storyline that wasn’t our favorite, which makes us even jumpier. 

In which I’ll point to again, that this situation right now as we’re sitting here or whatever, has nothing to be compared to within this show. Even with other shows! 

And people like Natalie Fisher, God bless, don’t help. People who go around saying they ~know someone~, or know someone who knows someone, people throwing out vague spec that some take as fact. You can’t tell who’s trolling, who’s truthful, who’s just confused, or interpreting things wrong. She herself didn’t even get 15x18 to screen beforehand. 

There are not that many people who know what’s going on on Thursday, and when asked, will tell the truth because if anything got traced back to them (especially for spoiling a big episode) they’d never work in show business again. Literally. There was an extra on the Glee set named Nicole Crowther, I literally remember like it was yesterday, who spoiled that at prom, Kurt as gonna be named Prom Queen and there would be some drama but also some “yay relationship things”. The fandom went nuts and she got blacklisted because it was an important moment. And that was just an episode. Imagine getting caught spoiling the season finale of a 15-year show?  I mean some people are just dumb and evil and would do it anyway but since you don’t know who means what, it’s wise to just keep scrolling past it. 

It helps that anticipation anxiety, it helps your own state of mind and it helps you, at least for one minute, take a deep breath to ground yourself again. Measure how much you can handle in terms of things not going how you saw them in your head, and be that level of optimistic. <3 

[coreastories]

The Thirteenth Rule

Tae-eul was given an epiphany. Twice. 

That’s why she makes a decision-- destination be damned. 

Companion to Three Hours for Chicken and Seo-ryeong vs Lady Noh

Chapter 5 of Days and Nights of Forever

April 2020: Tae-eul was a detective. Her training had taught her three hundred sixty vision, spreading her logic and hypotheses far and wide in all directions to try to predict and identify the motivations and ripples of a crime and a suspect trying not to get caught, or trying to weasel away. 

In the normal, non-criminal side of life, it meant she stopped her dad from wasting money on excess groceries, and got Eun-sup out of trouble before he even landed himself in it. She collected evidence and knew how to gather intelligence with or without informants. 

So when she was stabbed in the stomach, her detective’s brain went on a three-sixty degree identification of all threats, conscious and subconscious. 

“Is there-- Is there any way you could tell if I’m pregnant even if it’s too early?”

The doctor and nurses clutched around her in the ER looked stricken. They all stopped what they were doing. Tae-eul tried not to sob or hurl-- she didn’t know which one was making her stomach churn and her throat tight. Luna had stabbed her and that was… it was too horrifying to think of if she was...  

“How early?” the doctor asked, squeezing Tae-eul’s arm as if she knew Tae-eul needed the touch to ground her in the present. “How many days has it been since your period should have come?”

“Um, I think-- I think ten days--two weeks--” 

“All right. We’ll check.” The doctor turned to someone. “Run to the lab. Add the test to her vial. Prioritize it so we know what to do.” She turned back to Tae-eul. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you in the meantime as if you’re pregnant.” 

Tae-eul tried to stay awake, tried to wait to find out, but her detective’s brain had done its job and shut down. 

She woke up in her private room. Everything rushed back-- there was no pause, no blinking into consciousness, only instant, real fear which she didn’t even understand. Her heart rate sped up. She looked at the tube curled and attached on the back of her wrist, followed the line to the bags on the stand. What was in those bags? Was she--

“Hi Lieutenant Jeong. It’s me. I’m Dr Bong.” Tae-eul turned at the voice and recognized the kind intern or resident who had treated her in the ER. “You’re all right. Thankfully, there was no major trauma, and you avoided a laceration on your liver by two centimeters.” 

The intern paused and smiled hesitantly. “You are not-- were not-- pregnant.” 

Just like that, Tae-eul could breathe again. The doctor seemed to understand. She reached out to pat Tae-eul’s hand. “You’ll be fine. You’re on antibiotics and opioids for the pain.”

Tae-eul wiped the tears she didn’t even realize had tracked down her cheeks. “Gomapseumnida.” 

The doctor nodded, smiling. “If you’re hungry, you can eat. We’ll bring you food in a little while.”

Tae-eul thanked the doctor again and turned her head to look out the window. She tentatively felt her side-- stiff with thick bandages. There was a sore, tender feeling deep beneath the skin, nothing like the pain she’d felt when she was stabbed, but still painful even if it was currently a dull pain. 

Not pregnant. Was not pregnant. Good. That was really good. She had plans for Luna, and Tae-eul was relieved she didn’t have to kill Luna, because she would have if Luna had-- 

It would be ridiculous to-- she sighed, swallowed, and tried to stop her lips from trembling. It was ridiculous to want, to love a-- 

She didn’t even know where Gon was. 

She didn’t know where Gon was. 

That was exactly the reason the possibility of being pregnant had both terrified and comforted her. 

If she never saw him again, she wouldn’t be alone, wouldn’t really be without him, if she had a-- 

She couldn’t even mention it in her head. 

She sighed. She swiped at her eyes and appreciated that the hospital people had placed her phone within easy reach. She dialed. 

“Hyeong-nim. Where are you? I need you to find the other me. Luna. I’m fine, I’m good. Okay. Good. I’ll come.” 

Tae-eul was glad for her detective’s brain anyway. It can compartmentalize. First, get out of bed. Then, get Luna. 

And if Gon came back to her, she wasn’t letting him go. 

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

June 2020: 

She very vividly remembered the weekend she had called their life a melodrama. 

It was one of those May days that made you sure of summer. It wasn’t wet, and it wasn’t cold. 

That was also the first time they were sent to present-day Corea-- since the reset anyway. 

That was also the time Gon told her about Kang Shin-jae, the real Kang Shin-jae in the Republic. She’d cried. She had missed him. The Shin-jae she’d known became Kang Hyeon-min of the kingdom and she remembered and missed him.  

That May night in 2020, Gon told her that he had met Kang Shin-jae, had actually changed Shin-jae’s life by delaying his walk to that deadly curve in the street. And then Gon had later seen him, a chaebol heir with all the trimmings, bowing underlings and chauffeured luxury vehicle. So that was what his life was meant to be. She had embraced Gon in tears and was truly glad the manpasikjeok also made that right. 

“I think that’s the last time we went to the past,” Gon had said, smiling ruefully at her tears. 

“No, no, we went to 2016, too. I think that’s the last.” 

“Oh, you’re right. But that was a bust, wasn’t it? We didn’t do much. Well, we did a little.”

She’d giggled while swatting at his hand, which had burrowed under her pajama top to stroke her back earlier while she cried, and now started wandering. 

They’d arrived at the kingdom of 2016 and they had stayed in his study, with Gon distractedly signing off on the various petitions on his desk. She had protested at how careless he was being, but he showed her they were harmless, miscellaneous documents that really only needed the king’s signature, referrals and recommendations and certificates of merit. 

And then, back on that night in May 2020 while recalling their trip to 2016, Gon had stopped moving and stared at her. “I suddenly remember one of the papers I signed. Unless I’m mistaken, I think I signed Koo Seo-gyeong’s recommendation to the Interpol.” 

“Really?”  

Gon looked incredulous, amazed. “I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye now, but it didn’t register with me at the time. You were distracting. You laid down on that chaise by the fire and I wanted to get to you.” He grinned at her unimpressed expression. “Is that what we were meant to do that time? Because I usually don’t sign those documents. I just grabbed random stacks of papers from Secretary Mo’s office for something to pretend to do in the study.” 

“What do you mean you don’t sign them? So those people who need your signature usually go without?”

“We have stamps. Secretary Mo’s staff just use stamps. Those papers don’t even go to me. I’m not really needed..” 

“Ahh.” Tae-eul smiled. “Well, don’t be too full of yourself. I’m sure your signature didn’t matter much. Seo-gyeong is too cool not to get into Interpol.” 

Gon grinned. “You know what else? Kang Hyeon-min followed her there.” 

“Wow. They make a cute couple.” 

And Gon had made an unimpressed face that made her laugh and tickle him with her own hands under his pajamas.  

So that May weekend was memorable for her. It was full of revelations. 

It was also the last time she had her period. It was June now. She should have had her period over a week ago. The only time she was late, it was understandable because she’d been running on high levels of anxiety. 

Otherwise, her cycle had always run like clockwork. She’d been feeling some tenderness so she thought her period might come today. She had just come into Gon’s bathroom to check again. She looked down at her clean underwear. Nothing. 

Maybe tomorrow. 

She left the bathroom lost in thought. She didn’t register the childish chatter she could hear so she gasped when she rounded the corner and something collided with her knees. 

“Noona!” 

“Look who’s here,” Gon said belatedly. 

Tae-eul chuckled and went down on her knees so she could hug little Woo-jin at his level. He was at that age when he didn’t appreciate being scooped up any more-- except when he wanted airplane rides and piggy backs. 

“Are we kidnapping you again?” Tae-eul asked, pinching those cheeks. Woo-jin laughed. It was an inside joke between the three of them, kidnapping Secretary Mo’s son and escaping from the palace. 

“Yes, yes! Let’s go kidnapping! Let’s go bounce!” 

Tae-eul looked up at Gon, laughing. “Did he just use slang with me?” 

Gon knelt down beside her, grinning. “He means Vaunce. It’s a trampoline park. You want to go?” 

Tae-eul looked between them, and Gon imitated Woo-jin’s pouty-pleading face. She couldn’t help laughing. “Let’s go bounce then!” 

Gon changed into his incognito outfit. T-shirt, light denim jacket, jeans. He also washed his hair to remove the mousse and let his hair dry just lying naturally on his head. 

Then he changed Woo-jin into a similar outfit. Secretary Mo liked dressing her son like a little prep school boy, and in previous kidnappings, he and Tae-eul had to buy Woo-jin clothes he could play in. 

Tae-eul had changed too. Her detective outfit-- her usual shirt, vest, jacket and boxy jeans combo-- didn’t fit a trampoline park, so she picked skinny jeans and a pullover she wouldn’t have to keep hold of if she decided to go all out on a trampoline. 

“Right, Yeong says the getaway car’s on its way to pick us... up--” Gon trailed off, looking from Woo-jin to her, and smiled that boyish smile she loved. “You look nice.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe we should cut your hair.” 

Gon looked exasperated. He picked up Woo-jin. “There. See? Here’s my disguise.” 

Woo-jin giggled. 

They were off, and Tae-eul tried not to be nervous. Being out in the open in present-day Corea made her feel exposed. But thankfully Gon’s disguise worked. The first time it worked they were so stunned they laughed for three minutes straight, disbelieving that it was that easy. 

It was ridiculous but it was effective. Sans bodyguards and trademark hair and long coats, and with Woo-jin in his arms, Gon didn’t look like the king. No one expected it would be the king. They had gone about their day in Busan without anyone making a fuss. 

Or Coreans were simply not too nosy about other families. 

That made her stomach flutter. She knew how they looked. Gon knew how they looked. Woo-jin even called them Omma and Appa in these kidnappings, so they wouldn’t be “caught by the police.” It was part of their inside joke. 

Gon smiled at her in that happy, satisfied way, tucking her against his side with his other arm while holding Woo-jin in the other as they walked from the car-- an ordinary car he drove himself-- to the park. 

Then they were inside and Tae-eul laid a hand on Gon’s arm when he was buying the tickets. 

“What is it?” he asked.

The smell of rubber and disinfectant spray, the noise from the kids, and the colorful interior of the indoor park all churned inside her head, making her chest pound, because a single thought stood out starkly like a big monument amid the swirl of color and sound. 

“Omma--” 

Woo-jin’s voice-- and what he said-- brought Tae-eul back. Her heart was still racing. 

“What is it?” Gon asked again, looking concerned now. “Are you alright? Do you want Viewing Only?” 

Tae-eul shook her head, as much to clear it as to answer Gon. “Of course not. I’m fine. Sorry. Go ahead. Let’s bounce!” 

There was no way she wouldn’t be okay bouncing on a trampoline park. Even if-- even if she were-- it was too early, and she knew women did so much more and they were fine. 

God. 

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

Gon turned down the blankets for her and then immediately caged her with his arms and legs, maneuvering her to face him with her head pillowed on his upper arm.   

“What’s wrong? You’ve been distracted all day.” He stroked her hair and cupped her cheek, fingers gently stroking her ear.

Tae-eul stared into those eyes, looked at that face, sank further into his arms, and forgot why she was scared in the first place. 

“I need to take a pregnancy test.” 

She watched his face and loved what she saw there. The movement of his eyes and cheeks and lips made her heart speed up and she felt like she’d been jumping on trampolines again. He was surprised. He was stunned. He wasn’t unhappy. He opened his mouth but nothing came out at first. Tae-eul waited. 

“Are you-- do you-- how do you feel?” 

And Tae-eul fell more deeply in love with him than ever. In her head, she’d imagined him saying or asking so many other things, his scientific brain demanding facts, but no, the first thing he asked was how she felt about this. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her face against his chest, kissing him there through his pajama top. 

When she spoke, everything she’d been holding back all day spilled out. The one big thought that had haunted her all day, until now. “I didn’t want to go on the trampolines-- I just suddenly realized it when we were getting tickets. It suddenly terrified me if it might hurt the-- but lots of women do much more while they don’t know they’re-- and I’m still okay and--”

His arms tightened around her. She felt the shudder that ran through him. She stroked his back to soothe him and he mirrored the action, and kissed her hair. 

She knew he understood. That was how she felt about this. She didn’t even know yet if she was really-- but she was already terrified about hurting it. 

That was all that mattered, that was the important thing, that she hadn’t hurt it. 

Everything else-- the fact that they lived in different worlds-- it was all inconsequential. 

“We’ll go first thing tomorrow,” he said, his voice a little gravelly. 

She nodded against him, and they fell asleep like that, after what felt like hours of just quietly holding each other. 

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

They went to a clinic in the republic. He helped her look for a specialty clinic with its own lab, so they wouldn’t have to wait days for the results. He was adamant that they didn’t go to an outright hospital with an OB-gyne department, because she would have been unnecessarily “exposed to something.” 

The OB was a cute woman with a bob. Tae-eul liked her immediately. She explained the options to Tae-eul, and Tae-eul chose the blood test without waiting for the doctor to finish explaining the vaginal sono. 

The doctor laughed but said she understood. No point having to go through that when Tae-eul hadn’t even taken a home PT. She wanted the blood test to give her a definite answer. So Tae-eul peed in a cup and her blood was taken and that was it.

They did have to wait two hours so they could have the results of the urine and blood test together. They went to a cafe and sat in a booth tucked away near the back. 

“Let’s not get our hopes up.” 

He grinned and took her hands, just wrapping his fingers over hers around her mug of hot chocolate. “So you hope for it, too, do you?”

She shook her head at him and tried to stay rational. “We’re careful. The chances are point zero zero three percent.”

“I’ll take those chances. We’ve always been exceptional.”

Tae-eul just looked at him sardonically. He laughed. 

They ordered food and ate, talking about everything else but what they were waiting for. 

They both knew they couldn’t discuss anything yet until they knew. 

And Tae-eul was glad about having him this time, anchoring her, being the giddy one so she could be the calm one, and she was able to eat just fine, all her nerves calm and steady because he was there with her and everything would be just fine. 

That she wasn’t pregnant was an anticlimax she didn’t know what to do with. 

They’d thanked the doctor and she had smiled at them. “Keep trying! It won’t take long. I hope to see you again and give you the good news.” 

They got in the car and just sat there for a few moments, with Gon looking at her and her looking at her hands in her lap. 

“Tae-eul?” 

She looked at him and smiled. “Let’s go back to the bamboo forest.” 

He seemed to understand--he always did-- and started the car without pressing her further. 

Tae-eul leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, meditating on what she’d just discovered about herself, and what it meant for them. 

The rest of the drive to the bamboo grove, they stayed silent. At some point, Gon reached for her hand and brought their hands up to stroke her cheek for a moment. 

“Saranghae.” 

She enclosed his hand with both of hers, resting their hands on the center console and turning to him a little without opening her eyes. She smiled. “Nado.” 

When they sat on a bench in the bamboo grove, Tae-eul was resolved. 

Since she met him she’d had to take several leaps of faith and he had always proven worth it, everything about him was real, true, pure-- well, not pure, because she’d seen him kill and purity wasn’t important anyway-- and he was home to her. He was her home and they were both living and loving this strange and wonderful fate but she was ready if that fate meant so much more. 

She wanted so much more. 

She’d been through this twice now and both times had shown her what she wanted, what her heart absolutely ached for each time it happened. 

She looked at him and she didn’t have to tell him to look at her because he already was, peering at her face, looking worried. She smiled and smoothed her thumb on his forehead. 

“Don’t look like that. I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She nodded. She took a deep breath. She placed both hands on his shoulders, then slid them up and cradled his cheeks, squishing them and making him grin before moving her hands to that jawline she loved so much. 

“Lee Gon. Here’s the thirteenth rule. If we ever get married, I’ll stop being on birth control and let’s just see where that takes us. Are you alright with that?”

He blinked at her and in a matter of two blinks his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She smiled and felt tears run down her own cheeks. He wiped them and then just held her cheeks, too. They probably looked ridiculous to passersby but she didn’t care. 

“Well,” he said, then exhaled and took a deep breath. He slid his arms around her and held her tightly. “Well, I always follow your rules, don’t I?”  

[sheerbeautyreigns]

DESIRE

Part 35

Things get heated in Vegas.

Paul gently stroked Joe's cheek, hoping to wake him. He groaned, moving his head off Paul’s chest. “Baby,”

“Huh?” Joe moaned, keeping his eyes closed. “Let’s go to bed. It’s almost one.” Paul nudged him a little more urging him to get up. He was so cute when he was tired, eyes squinting, trying to avoid the light, his hair messy. He threw off the robe that he had been wearing and crawled in under the covers, closely followed by Paul. His face warmed seeing Joe immediately pull the covers up over his naked body. Paul lay behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Joe nodded off pretty quickly while Paul was just happy to lay holding him until he eventually drifted off.

It was almost 8:30 when Paul woke up. He rolled onto his back and looked to his left. Joe was lying on his stomach, head turned to face him. Strands, of hair had fallen in front of his face. Paul could just about see the fresh stitches on his temple. He knew it was a simple accident but it didn’t stop him being pissed off about it. That and the fact that he didn’t find out about the Wyatt attack until the last minute. He had to contain his anger sitting next to Vince watching it all unfold. He knew Joe could take it but he had become so protective of him in recent weeks that he would do anything in his position of power to give him anything. He could also see the fresh scratches and bruises that had appeared throughout his arms, side and back.

Paul had always found marks sexy but only when he was causing them. It made him think about the first time when he looked at Joe in a different way. It was back in 2014 when The Shield were up against Evolution at the Payback PPV. That time when he, Randy and Dave beat Joe with kendo sticks, followed by a steel chair. Not only that but the very next night when he was beaten with a steel chair. It turned him on immensely and he had been paying special attention to him since but he never made a move until after they got to know each other better during their 2016 feud.

“What are you thinking?” came Joe monotone voice against the pillow. Paul’s eyes trailed up to his. “Just looking at your battle scars.” A lazy smile crept across Joe face. “I dread to think what they look like this morning, much less feel.”

“At least you can rest until Sunday.” Paul said trailing his fingers gently down his spine, down to the base of his back. “I’ll need it.”

“It’ll be worth it baby, to see you with that title again. It’s been too long.” Paul re-assured him. Joe cast his eyes downwards. “It is what you want, isn’t it?”

Joe hesitated before answering. He turned on his side, wincing a little. “I just feel bad for Drew.” He pursed his lips. “I mean, it was meant for him wasn’t it?”

“Yeah but he doesn’t know that. It wasn’t fully decided until I spoke with creative.”

“He’s worked so hard for it-” Joe started. “Hey, look, we all know how hard he’s worked. He’ll get it one day but not just yet. It’s your time understand?” Joe really did feel troubled by this whole set up. He felt that this was just being given to him because of his relationship with Paul and he knew a few people would realise that. Joe always wanted to work for his title shots. “Do you understand?” Paul asked again. Joe nodded.

“I don’t want you overthinking this whole thing or losing sleep about it. Just rest up this week and do what you do best on Sunday.” Paul said placing a kiss on his lips before crawling out of bed, naked. Joe turned on his back and smiled, checking out his sweet ass as he went into the ensuite.

He listened as Paul ran the bath and thought about what he had just said. Seemed he would have this no other way. Joe himself agreed that he had busted his ass for almost a year with no sign of a title shot so true, it was his time. He just felt bad that he was getting in over Drew considering how well they had become acquainted in the last month.

Paul came out of the bathroom and came towards him. “I’m running you a nice relaxing bath baby. It’ll help, if only a little.” He said sitting at Joe’s side as he sat up. “You’re too good to me.” The young man told him. “It’s only temporary, while you’re hurt. Wait until I get you to my place next week.” Paul smirked with a dark glint in his eye. “Can’t wait.” His lips curved into a smile as Paul’s hand curved around the back of his neck and motioned him towards him for a slow, sensual kiss. Joe got up off the bed. “Check on the bath.” Paul advised, smacking him on the ass.

Joe eyebrows furrowed as he checked out his back in the bathroom mirror. It was as bad as he thought it would be. Hopefully creative didn’t have any nasty surprises in store for him come Sunday.

Carefully he eased himself into the bath. The heat of the water increased the pain in his back initially but he started to feel more relaxed as he lay back. He cupped the water in his hands, releasing it onto his chest and lay with his head back, eyes closed. It was so relaxing, he almost fell asleep again. Paul appeared at the door. His face softened when he saw Joe in the tub. He looked so peaceful. He couldn’t imagine wanting to hurt him like he’d done in the past but maybe he’d feel different in a week.

Paul watched with pride as the referee counted 1, 2, 3 when Joe pinned Bray. A huge smile spread across his face as the referee handed him the Universal Title. Joe was so overcome with emotion as he took hold of the belt. He had worked so hard for this and had just taken part in one of the hardest fought and best matches of his career. He felt banged up, still sore from the attack on Raw but he didn’t care.

His eyes met Paul’s first as he arrived backstage. Paul nodded at him with a smile just as he was bombarded by the other wrestlers congratulating him. Once he worked his way through the crowd, he got to Vince, who was almost on the verge of tears as he hugged him and finally Paul, who pulled him into a bear hug. “So proud of you.” Was all he said. Joe knew he was just keeping things low key as not to draw any attention. There would be plenty of time for talk later. All Joe wanted to do now was shower. He made his way, with his belt to the men’s locker room. A few of the guys were already in there, Colby, Tom, Matthew, Claudio, Kevin and Drew. Joe immediately went over to Drew and hugged him. “What a match!” Drew said with a smile, clearly glad that it was over. “You guys put on a hell of a show.” Claudio chimed in, putting his arms around both men. “We must celebrate!” He said throwing his arms up in the air. The others agreed, even Colby. Joe only had plans to go back to the Venetian with Paul. “Whaddya say Joe?” Drew asked. He couldn’t deny that smile. “Sounds a plan.” He said giving in. He barely ever went out for drinks with the guys and they were in Vegas. He grabbed his phone from his bag and quickly called Paul.

“What’s up?” Joe hated interrupting him while he was working. “Listen, some of the guys want to take me out for drinks. They kinda goaded me into it. Do you mind?” Paul was quiet for a moment. “No problem babe, I’ll be here another while anyway and you deserve it. Where are you guys going?”

“I’m not sure yet, somewhere on the Strip I’m sure. It’ll only be for two or three anyway.”

“OK cool, let me know where you end up.”

“Love you.” Joe told him to which Paul replied “Love you too.”

Everyone agreed go to the Dorsey at The Venetian since it was central Strip. They all freshened up and agreed to meet there around eleven. While Joe was changing into a his black suit and black shirt, he heard the door open. Paul was early. “Look at you.” He cooed seeing how good Joe looked. He rarely got to see him in a suit. “Makes me wanna keep you here.” He said pulling him in for a kiss. “I won’t be late. Just thought it’d be nice since we’re in Vegas. You wanna join us? We’re just actually going to the Dorsey downstairs.”

“Aww babe, I”d love to but its been a long day so I’ll just have a drink here.”

“You sure?” Joe checked. “Yeah, I’m good. Who’s out anyway?” He asked. “Kevin, Tom, Matthew, Claudio, Drew and Colby. Just a few of us.” Paul pulled away. Joe could see the look change on Paul’s face. He placed his hands on his hips. “I thought you and Colby were no longer on speaking terms?” Joe shifted. “Well, there’s just the odd hello here and there. It’s kinda unavoidable since we work together.” Joe tried to reason with him.

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Paul said. He looked annoyed. “Claudio just suggested drinks when we were all in the locker room. I could hardly say no?” Paul walked out of the bedroom into the living room area with Joe in pursuit “Look, I should’ve told you when I first mentioned drinks but I…” Paul stopped and turned to face him “You what?” Joe backed away a little “I was worried you might be annoyed.” The young man was frustrated. “You’re right. I am. I specifically asked you not to get involved with him-”

“We’re just going for drinks with friends. That’s all! Don’t you trust me?” Joe asked, searching his eyes. Paul’s eyebrow furrowed “Don’t you?” Joe asked again, his eyes starting to look a little glassy. Joe swallowed, backing away and going back into the bedroom. Paul’s look said it all. He could hear Joe starting to gather his things in the ensuite. “What are you doing?” Paul asked coming into the bedroom. “You clearly don’t trust me so I’m done.” Joe was visibly upset. “I’m sorry baby. Don’t go-” He said grabbing Joe arm. “No, not this time. I was so fucking stupid to think I could try this again.” He said zipping up his bag. He was angry now. Paul grabbed his arm again, this time not letting him go. “Look, look! I’m sorry I upset you. You know how I feel about Colby.”

“There’s nothing going on. I can’t believe you don’t trust me with him.” At that moment, Joe phone rang. He took it out of his pocket. It was Drew. Paul eyed the phone before Joe answered. “Hey, I’m just held up a little. I’ll be down soon.”

Paul took a few steps back. “Y’know what? You do what you want. See if I care.” Joe scowled at him before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. He was seething. He blinked his eyes hard as he walked towards the elevators, trying to ward off tears. Luckily, reception was quiet since it was Sunday night and he was able to get himself a room. He quickly dropped his bag off and went down to the bar. The guys were all sat around a table in the corner. “About time!” Tom announced as he approached the table. “Sorry guys!” Joe apologised forcing a smile. “Have some champagne! Time to celebrate!” Claudio said, already filling a glass for Joe. They all toasted to his win and a good night for them all in general.

“Where’s Paul?” Drew asked whilst the others were all chatting amongst themselves. “He’s upstairs.” Joe simply said, taking a swig of his beer. “Didn’t care to join us for a drink?”

“You know what he’s like. Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about him.” Joe called to the passing bartender “Can I get another round?” The bartender got to work immediately. Drew looked Joe over. Something seemed off, like he was hiding something.

An hour passed and everyone was moderately drunk. Joe was in mild conversation with Colby when his phone rang. Colby could see it was Paul, just before Joe put it away. “Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“No, It’s fine.” Joe shrugged. “Listen man, tell me if I’m out of line but…you seem different tonight. Are things OK with you and Paul?” He asked cautiously so the others wouldn’t hear. “No, they’re not.” He said before sighing. “Do you want to talk about it?” Joe looked him in the eyes “Actually, no. I just wanna have a good time with you guys and forget about it.” Colby backed up “It’s cool man, whatever you want.”

It was around 1am when the guys decided to call it a night and go to their respective hotels. “Hang on for a moment.” Joe told Colby as the others left.

“I didn’t want to come off as a dick earlier. You know that’s not me.” Joe started apologising as they stood in the lobby area. “Hey man it’s all good. Despite what’s happened between us over the past month or so, you know I’m always here for you.”

“Appreciate it man. Where are you staying?” Joe asked. “Here. I’ve never stayed here before, thought I’d treat myself.”

“Well It’s been a long day. I’m shattered.” Joe said as they walked towards the elevators. “At least were here tomorrow for Raw so can chill for a bit.”

“Well, this is me.” Joe said as they stopped at the 10th floor. “You gonna be OK? I don’t mind keeping you company…” Colby offered. Joe eyes trailed in his direction as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He didn’t need to say anything. Colby stepped out into the hallway and walked to Joe’s room in silence. Nothing had been touched. It just looked like he’d left his suitcase in and came down to the bar which meant that he had probably been in Paul’s room beforehand.

Joe closed the room door behind them and set the key card aside. Colby walked into the living room area and looked out the window, taking in the night view. Joe followed, taking off his jacket and setting it on the back of the chair. Quietly he moved behind Colby and placed his hand on his right shoulder, urging him to turn around. Without a word, he kissed him gently on the lips. Colby reciprocated momentarily but moved away slowly. “What’s the matter?” Joe asked. “I don’t want to regret this.”

“You won’t.” He leaned in to kiss him again, more forceful this time. “Joe, please-”

“I thought you wanted this?” Joe searched his eyes. “I do but, you’re drunk…pissed off with Paul. I just…you’ve gotta understand where I’m coming from?” Colby was being reasonable. Joe moved away, lowering to the sofa. “I do. It’s not fair on you man.” Colby joined him on the sofa. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Things got a little rocky a couple of weeks ago when I went to stay at his in Connecticut so I left earlier than I had planned. I thought that was it but last Friday, we talked and ended up spending the weekend together in Denver.”

“When I told him I was going for drinks tonight, he was fine at first but he got pissed off when he heard you would be there.” Colby rolled his eyes “It’s just drinks with friends. What does he think is gonna happen between us?” Colby shook his head in amusement. “He doesn’t trust me when it comes to you and I can’t live like that. I had to make a choice.”

“So that’s why you walked out tonight?” Colby pursed his lips. “Yeah. I had enough.” Joe let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just tired man.” Joe leaned forward and lowered his head into his hands. Colby could see that he was starting to cry. He moved closer and put his arms around Joe “Aww man, don’t cry.” Joe buried his head into his friends shoulder and sobbed quietly. “I hate to see you like this.” He stroked the back of his neck, gently rocking him. Joe moved away, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just feel like a mess.” Colby took hold of his shoulders. “Listen to me. I don’t want to see you upset. You’re not a mess. You’re a brilliant man and my best friend. You deserve the best.” Joe blinked and nodded. He felt ashamed. He didn’t want Colby to see him like this. “Just get some sleep man.” Joe nodded standing up. He stood up and got undressed down to his boxers while Colby pulled back the covers on the bed and moved the cushions aside. Joe brushed his teeth and came back into the bedroom. Colby forced a smile. “Will you stay a while. Just until I fall asleep? I don’t wanna be alone.” Joe as asked timidly.

“Of course.” He nodded. Joe got into the bed and watched as he undressed, neatly setting his shirt and trousers aside before turning off the lights. The room was now bathed on a red glow, coming from the nearby Hi-Roller outside. Colby climbed in next to Joe, who was lying on his back, eyes lowered to his chest. Colby moved closer, allowing Joe to lean his head into his chest for comfort. He placed his hand on Joe abdomen. There was something so soothing lying with Colby, hearing his light breaths and feeling his heartbeat that it didn’t take Joe long to nod off.

Joe awoke around nine the following morning. The room was bright since the curtains hadn’t been drawn. He had been lying in the same position as he had fallen asleep in. Colby started to stir, moving his head. He groaned, opening his eyes slowly.

“What time is it?” He asked groggily. Joe grabbed his phone from the night stand. “It’s just gone nine. Thanks for staying.“ Joe turned in to face him. “No worries. You feeling a bit better?” Colby asked, stroking his cheek. “Rested. So glad we don’t have to travel today.”

“I know. What are you gonna do?” Colby asked, stroking Joe forearm. “I don’t know. I never made plans. I normally just chill with Paul.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere for a big breakfast. There’s a place I’ve been to before called the Peppermill. Wanna go there?”

“A big breakfast sounds perfect about now.” His stomach rumbled at the thought. Colby laughed upon hearing it. His hand trailed down to Joe stomach where he tickled him. Joe laughed aloud, squirming, trying to fight him off as Colby climbed on top of him, continuing to tickle him. He grabbed Joe by the wrists and pinned him to the mattress. Joe could feel his cock getting very hard as Colby did this.

“What are you gonna do now?” he teased, lowering his head closer to Joe. Their eyes met. Without hesitation, Joe lifted his head off the pillow and kissed Colby. Within seconds, they were entangled in a passionate kiss, hands roaming each others bodies, scrambling to take their boxers off. Joe rolled over onto his stomach, arching himself up on his knees. Colby climbed behind him and prized his ass cheeks apart, leaned forward and started to tease his opening with his tongue. Joe moaned at the warm wet feeling. “So good…” He looked behind and all he could see was Colby’s head buried in his ass. He dripped his saliva around the opening and lined the head of his cock up with the opening of Joe’s hole. He eased his way in as Joe lowered his head, breathing deeply. In no time their bodies were rocking the bed, slowly at first, then becoming more steady as Colby picked up the pace. “Aaaah fuck. Jesus!” Joe let out, trying to maintain his balance. All Joe could hear was the slamming of Colby”s balls every time he thrust into him along with his grunts. He sure had stamina when it came to fucking. Colby gripped his pelvis tightly, steadying him as he came hard in his ass. Joe buried his head into the pillows below as Colby shuddered behind him breathlessly. He eventually released Joe, rolling back onto his heels. He watched as Joe rolled over onto his back, strands of hair strewn across his damp forehead. He smiled lazily at Colby, watching as he leaned down to kiss him.

“I don’t know about you but I need food.” Colby said getting off the bed. “I’m gonna go freshen up in my room and I’ll meet you at like 10:30 in the Lobby?”

“Sounds perfect.” Joe said getting off the bed. He followed Colby to the door. “Hey.” Colby turned around. “Thanks man.” Joe kissed him again before letting him leave. Joe smiled to himself as he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He went to the bedside to plug in his phone. He pursed his lips upon seeing a couple of unread WhatsApp messages from Paul. A horrible feeling invaded the pit of his stomach as he opened them.

11:30pm - I’m sorry about tonight. I do trust you. I don’t want to lose you again.

8:45am – Hope you’re OK? I want to make things better. Can we talk?

Joe exhaled setting the phone down and went to take his shower. All he could think of was that it was too late for Paul to say he trusted him. Why didn’t he say it to his face last night? Again, Paul had him wrecking his brain. He didn”t know how things might pan out with Colby since he was known to sleep around. He probably wouldn’t want anything serious. It was too soon anyway. He decided he was gonna just play it cool in the meantime and see how things pan out.

When he came back into the bedroom, his phone had just stopped ringing. It was Paul. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

One thing that was certain, Paul wasn’t the type to give up on something so easily. He would probably see him this evening for Raw and part of him wanted to get this over with.

“I was wondering if I’d hear from you at all.” Paul started. “I’m not long up.” Joe said walking over to the window. “Good night?” Joe hated this small talk. “Yeah, was a nice change.” There was a moment of silence. “Are you at the Venetian still?” Paul asked.

“Yeah.” Joe started pacing around the room.

“Can I see you?” Paul eventually asked. “I have to head out soon.”

“When you’re free?” Paul pushed. “OK. I should be around one.” Joe told him. He was already dreading this conversation. “OK come up to my room.” Paul said before ending the call.