#left california last bc for some reason could not think of anything for him

[hibiscuslynx]

got the idea the other week but i just remembered: the cities are animals. like, new york being followed around by a bunch of birds and him just snapping and grumbling at them. buncha alligators following florida around. just a herd of cows trailing texas. pelicans flying after loui. foxes following virginia around. white tailed deer following illinois, beavers following oregon, rocky mountain goats following colorado—holy fucking shit grizzly bears following california. just. just think about it.

[fizzing-imagines]

After Starcourt | Billy Hargrove x GN! Military! Reader

Notes: I'm back on my Billy x Military! Reader bullshit. But I'm a whore for angst so here y'all go. Please note reader is stationed in California in this one bc all branches have at least one base there (Also, Billy and Cali? Fuck yeah.). I actually got more Billy, and some Steve, in the works now! So stay tuned :)

Warnings: Description of injury, descriptions and mention of death and near-death, mention of having kids

Word count: 1.6k

You didn't know what you did, honestly. The last few hours were a blur to you, and while you didn't remember anything you saw, you do remember what happened while looking down at your hands; the blood crusted under your nails, the slight red hue on your nails, the blood that dried on the sleeves of your uniform. Your boyfriends blood. Billy's blood.

It was a complete accident on how you ended up there. You are off-duty, actually recovering from an injury you sustained in the field that was almost fatal, and just wanted to spend a few months with your boyfriend and family in Hawkins after such an event. Everything was fine at first, you arrived in April and were happy to be back earlier than expected but after a few months Billy started acting weird. You two wanted to spend the night at a motel, for obvious reasons, but he didn't show up. The next day, when you confronted him at work, he yelled at you to stay away from him. You saw it as a breakup at first, then you eventually were pulled in into all of this by Dustin and everything made sense. He dragged you along to save Steve and Robin from the russian underground base, despite you voicing your recovery from being shot in the hip. Still, you put on your uniform, grabbed your M16 and went to save the two.

You forgot what happened in between. It didn't matter to you anymore anyways. Next thing you remember was trying to save Billy's life, sporadically sealing the hole in his chest, compressing the wounds on his torso and screaming at him to stay awake. He was driven to the ER, the police took your statements (you dreaded the call from your sergeant) and now you were waiting in the waiting room for any news on your boyfriends surgery.

"Is your hip okay?", Robin asked you. She was kind enough to wait with you for the last three hours and keep your mind from at least not going to the worst possible outcome.

"It's fine, the wound didn't open I think.", you said while bouncing your leg up and down. A door opened, you snapped your head around to see if it was one of Billy's doctors but to no avail. "He'll be fine. You treated his injury well enough." Robin tried to reassure you, she really did her best, but she herself knew she was too socially awkward to comfort a stranger. "I could never forgive myself if I didn't.", you mumbled while picking the skin on your fingernails. Robin didn't reply; you couldn't blame her.

"Mrs. (Y/L/N)?" You shot up from your seat when you heard your last name being called. One of the doctors who treated Billy since he arrived stood next to you and Robin. "Is he alive?" was the first thing you said to her.

"Your first aid was vital for his survival, he would've died at the scene if it wasn't for you." Your eyes filled with tears as you heard her words. He survived. "The surgery was successful. We had to close a hole in his lung, and his heart was missed by a millimeter. Unfortunately, he'll need a follow-up surgery to reconstruct his spine. But he's alive, although he is sleeping right now." Tears left your eyes and if it wasn't for Robin holding you, you sure would've collapsed on the floor. "Thank you, so much.", you choked out to the doctor. She smiled, then said: "You can see him in a few hours. It's best if you go home and sleep a bit." You nodded and left the hospital with Robin.

You didn't get much sleep. At least you got to take a shower, put on clean clothes and get the dreaded call (that wasn't too bad) from your sergeant. When you tried to lay down, the most sleep you got was an one hour nap. You were just too nervous to see Billy again. Thinking about Billy needing to have his spine reconstructed, you looked over your documents of the hip surgery you had to get the bullet out and pubic bone repaired. It frustrated you that you weren't able to get him under your healthcare insurance provided by your employer, at least not while the two of you weren't married. Spinal reconstruction costs more than a small fortune, especially with your surgeon. After another unsuccessful attempt at sleeping, you decided to drive back to the hospital. It was either waiting at your childhood home or waiting where Billy was, and you'd rather be near Billy than freak out your parents even more.

One car ride later and you were back at the hospital. It's been five hours since Billy got out of surgery, your hopes of him being awake by now were high. When you asked for Billy at the reception and were send to the floor he was stationed at you asked another staff member on his status. Once again, you ended waiting on a chair in the hallway with your leg bopping up and down and picking the skin on your nails.

"Mrs. (Y/L/N), you can see him now.", a nurse finally told you. You practically jumped from your seat and went into his hospital room. And there he was.

Billy looked like he hasn't slept for a week, with dark eye bags and a droopy look on his face. He layed on his bed and slowly turned his head towards the door when he heard it open. "Well shit, if that isn't my guardian angle." He still had his sense of Humor, and he still had his beautiful smile. "Really is." Your eyes filled with tears once again while you pulled a chair next to his bed. "Don't cry, baby. I'm still here.", Billy said while reaching for your hand with his shaky one. You took his hand in yours and gave it a small squeeze. "I thought I had lost you.", you choked out before crying once more. Billy's thumb stroked the back of your hand slowly while mumbling "I'm not going anywhere. Told you, you're stuck with me." A choked laugh left your throat, which made him smile at you. His blue eyes were fixated on you, took in every detail of your face, scared that he'd forget if he didn't look at you long enough. "I didn't want to break up with you, you know?"

"Hm?" You raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I know it sounded like a breakup, but I didn't mean to. I didn't want to hurt you." He was still mumbling, but his tone was stern. Billy was more than serious with his words. "I know, Billy. Takes more than yelling to scare me off.", you replied with a smile. When your eyes wandered so his bandaged chest, you remembered your surgery research from before. "Uhm, Billy, I looked into who fixed my hip when I was shot. He could also reconstruct your spine, but it's expensive. And you're not in my healthcare program, not until we're married at least. But I can pay for it, at least most of the expenses." Those words made Billy think, now that you mentioned marriage. Up until a few hours ago he was convinced that he was either gonna kill you or die himself. He was convinced that he'd never see you again, and that hurt more than the hole in his chest did. Now he knew, he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life with you. "Why don't we get married?", he mumbled with a small smile. Your face went cold, then hot before you said "For my healthcare?". Billy let out a weak laugh, still stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. "Yeah, I've been dating you just to get into your healthcare plan since I knew I was going to have my spine smashed by a giant monster." A small chuckle left your mouth at his words, followed by you placing a kiss on the back of his hand. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life without you. Could've left me at Starcourt if you're planning on breaking up with me."

"Billy, no, I'm staying with you forever." One of your fingers tucked a curl behind his ear. "I just want to make sure that you actually want to marry me."

"Near-death experiences tend to make you realise things. Remembering when you got shot?" How could you forget? Billy and your family visited you at the hospital, you being high on narcotics and slurring that you want to have a baby with him. Afterwards, you did tell him that that was one of your last thoughts before passing out on the field. Before that, you've heard soldiers last words, some crying that they didn't want to leave their wife alone. 'I promised her we'd have a baby' one said. 'I didn't even get to marry her' another cried out. Your high school friend, who went through bootcamp with you, died while holding your hand and mumbled 'I wish I told Steve I liked him' before passing. So yes, him basically asking for your hand in marriage made sense, just as much as it made sense for you to ask him to have a baby with you.

"Sweetheart?" Billy pulled you out of your thoughts and made you look at him. "Please, let's get married and move to California." You leaned over to your now-fiance and kissed him.

"Sure.", you whispered against his lips once you pulled away.

[itsallyscorner]

This could be a request or not depending on how much time you have 😅 but for your information, yes, I am thinking Tom giving y/n hickies on her neck like the night before a bunch of interviews the next day and she's like, "Are you serious?" and he's like "I couldn't resist, I just love you so much!" and when y/n shows up the next day wearing a turtleneck after she told Zendaya that she would be wearing a dress Z immediately gets suspicious and figures it out bc I feel like she's like that 😅😂

Hehehe I haven’t written anything smutty lately and I miss it. So thank you for requesting this anon, much love to you🥰 Ugh, the thought of this gave me butterflies in my stomach😭 Happy reading!❤️

Also, little note for everyone who’s sending me requests! Yes, I see all of them! Part of the reason why I haven’t done some of them yet is because I have to think of concepts on how to execute them properly. So bear with me, love you all🥰

💌.

Love Bug

My soft boi🥺

Warnings: implied smut

(Gif from Pinterest)

The AC in your bedroom was just not doing you justice. The Californian heat was at an all time high today and has transformed you home into an Easy Bake oven. Though you were probably exaggerating, your thin crewneck sweater still clung onto your skin, making you uncomfortable. Peeling the sweater off your body, you toss it into your laundry basket. You’re left in a tank top and some lounging shorts as you sprawl yourself out on your bed. The coolness of the comforter bringing your body some relief from the heat.

Sinking into the sheets, the hustle and bustle of the day finally hits you. You’ve had a long day of press with your cast mates, promoting the movie you were all in, Spider-Man: Far From Home. You loved your job, but the press tours could just be so tiring. You were forced to wake up early in the morning and sit in a room for how many hours of the day to only be asked the same questions (most of the time). Though press tours did have its pros, meeting fans around the world and traveling to new countries was something you always looked forward to.

Marvel being Marvel, they always had to make it big. For the last few weeks you have all been traveling around the world, tired but nonetheless having an amazing time. Thankfully, this was the last stop of the press tour, California. You were back in your own bed and your boyfriend was staying with you for the time being.

You were on your phone, going through Instagram and looking at various photos that were taken today during today’s press engagements. You’ve even made your own contribution and posted your own batch of selfies and funny videos.

The door to the connected bathroom in your room opens and reveals your boyfriend. Your eyes break their focus on your phone and shift to the man in front of you. You smile and turn your phone off giving him all your attention. A smile forms on his own lips as he crawls up the bed to join you.

“Missed you all day.” He whispers against your skin, placing his head on your chest. His arms are wrapped around your figure, one leg hooked over yours. You move the hood of his sweatshirt from over his head and began to run your hands through his hair.

“Mmm, I missed you too.” He cuddles closer to your chest, arms tightening around you. His eyes momentarily shut, basking in your soothing motions.

“How was your day with Jake?” You ask him. As much as Tom wanted to do press with you, he was stuck doing them with Jake, while you did your interviews with Z and Jacob. Tom enjoyed having his interviews with Jake, but he missed being near you, even if you were just a room away.

Tom shifts so his lips are near the skin of your exposed neck. He hums against you before his lips come into contact with the soft surface. He had been tempted to mark you up all day. You wore a beautiful spring dress with a low neckline that displayed the skin of your neck. All he wanted to do was scatter red and purple love bites all over you, letting the world know you were his.

You gasp as he nips on the space between your neck and shoulder. “Interviews were good, but I just couldn’t get you out my head.” He slots himself between your legs and presses you down into the mattress.

“Teasing me with the pretty little dress of yours. Just wanted to kiss you and mark you up.” He says huskily against your neck. His breath sent shivers down your spine as goosebumps formed on your skin. His mouth sucks harder on the spot, teeth nipping gently, while his tongue soothed the bruising spot. He moved up so one of his hands are holding him up beside your head while his other strokes your side.

“Baby, we have an early morning tomorrow.” You didn’t want him to stop, but it was currently 2am and you were both expected to be awake by 6am.

His lips have made their way to the other side of you neck, pressing light kisses that turned to open mouthed ones. You giggle gently pulling him away from your neck so you can look him in the eyes.

“Babyyy.” He whines trying to shove his head back into the spot. A pout is on his lips, which were now a darker shade of pink from how much he was sucking on your skin.

“Tom, we need to be up at six.” You reminded him. Tom leans closer a boyish grin now on his expression. You couldn’t help but kiss him back when his lips captured yours. You feel him smirk against you as he pulls away.

The hand on your side moves to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “We’ll be quick, I just wanna feel you. Please?”

You stare at him for a moment as his hand drifts down your body and by your shorts. Excitement swirls in your belly as his fingers get closer to your growing heat. He kisses your cheek as his hand slips past the band of your shorts to cup your mound. The wetness brings a smirk to his face as his dark eyes gaze into yours.

“Baby, look how wet you are.” He praises you as he moves your panties aside and dips his fingers into your wetness. You sigh, eyes slightly rolling back as his fingers spread your wetness on your folds.

“Fine, but—“ You bring your finger to point again him, “No marks on my neck, I’m wearing a dress tomorrow with a low cut again.”

Tom nods connecting your lips again, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He assures you before diving his head back into your neck.

~next morning~

You enter the bathroom, tying your hair up to keep it away from your face. You turn the shower on and wait for the water to warm up. While you wait you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widen when you get a glimpse of you neck. You gasp out loud as you see the sides of your neck with red bruises with hints of purple on them. You had them on both sides of your neck and a small one almost on the center of your throat.

“TOM!” You yell, your voice echoing in the bathroom. There was some rustling behind the door before it was yanked open. Tom entered in nothing but his boxers looking disheveled, hair pointing in all types of direction and his eyes barely open.

“What happened?” His voice was raspy, something that usually made you swoon but right now you couldn’t even focus on it.

You turn to him, aggressively pointing to your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful!” You mock him, repeating what he said to you last night before he railed you into the mattress.

Tom’s eyes widen as well before he cringed. To be fair, you did warn him. He just didn’t know how to hold back when it came to you. He cautiously approaches you a sheepish grin on his face.

“I know it looks bad..” he begins. You shoot him a look, “Are you serious right now? Tom it looks like an octopus strangled me!”

Tom moves back to look at you, “Well you weren’t complaining last night.” You shoot him another look and he nods knowing you were annoyed with him at the moment. He stands behind you looking at the mirror you were both in front of. His arms wrap around your torso as he tries to soften you up.

“I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I couldn’t resist it. I love making love to you and I just get so lost in it and I know you warned me too, I’m sorry.” He apologizes hugging you from behind. You could tell he actually felt bad by the genuine look in his eyes. You sigh leaning back into him and resting your hands above his, interlocking your fingers.

“I forgive you, it happens.” You mumble, head trying to come up with ways to cover up your neck. “How do I even cover this up?”

Tom looks at your neck through the mirror, “Makeup will work right? Just put on some concealer or that color corrector thing you use.”

You nod at his suggestion. “That’ll work for a few hours, but makeup wears off. What if I accidentally wipe it off?”

Tom pursed his lips together in thought, “You could ask Laura to bring you something with a turtleneck.”

“It’ll barely move and your neck will be covered the entire time.” He suggests.

“Yeah, it’ll probably work. I just hope she hasn’t left yet, I should text her.” You move from Tom’s hold and turn the shower off. Before you leave the bathroom, Tom pulls you into a hug again. His face nuzzles against your hair, “I’m sorry, again.”

You smile and stroke his back, “I told you I forgive you, it’s ok love.” You pull away and peck his lips. Tom smiles and leans down to kiss your shoulder. Something he always did when you guys were having a moment. Instantly, you jump back and push him off, “Get your fucking lips away from my neck. I don’t need anymore hickies right now.”

~later~

Your stylist, Laura, ended up bringing you a stunning white dress that stopped above your knees. It was short sleeved, hugged your curves perfectly, and had a turtleneck that covered your neck. She gave you a pair of leather knee high boots which pulled the look together. Your hair was curled, pulled back into a half up and down style while short strands of hair framed your face. Compared to the panic you felt when your first saw the hickies, you were relieved when you saw yourself in the mirror again an hour later. You felt like a modern Go Go Girl as you admired your outfit.

You arrived at the hotel where all the interviews were being held. You make your rounds of greeting everyone, saving Z and Jacob last since you’ll be with them the whole day. You enter the room and see the two of them already sitting in front of the cameras. Jacob spots you first, “Aye! Good morning!”

You smile and walk up to them, giving them both hugs. When you pull away from Z she gives you a look. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, squinting at your dress.

“Weren’t you just complaining that yesterday was too hot? Why are you in a turtleneck?” She interrogates you. You smile nervously at her while you settle in the seat on the other side of Jacob.

“Um, you know, it’s a bit chilly today.” You lie. Jacob eyes you as well catching on Z’s point.

“(Y/n), it’s 95 degrees outside.” He tells you eyes panning around the room. Zendaya smirks leaning forward to get a better look at you, “I think someone was busy last night.”

“No, I wasn’t. I had a very nice sleep, thank you very much.” You sweetly smile at her crossing your arms.

Jacob snickers beside you, “I bet you did.”

“I guess Thomas couldn’t keep his hands off you last night.” She teased, exposing you.

“Or his mouth.” Jacob quickly adds smirking. Your cheeks get flustered squeezing your eyes shut. Jacob and Z burst out laughing at Jacob’s comment.

“I don’t even have a come back, blame Tom.” You throw your hands up in the air giving up. Z calms down and leans over Jacob to rest a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s ok, man. If I were Tom, I wouldn’t keep my hands off you either.” She tells you jokingly, helping you get over the embarrassment of wearing a turtleneck. You catch on and wink at her, “Aye, say less.” Your hand resting on top of hers.

Jacob puts his hands up looking shocked, “What did I just walk into? I—I gotta go.” He pretends to shove your hands away and gets up from his seat.

“I’m telling Tom about the sexual tension I felt in this room.” He yells over his shoulder as he walks out the room. You and Z look at each other amused, “Is he actually?”

Z shrugged, “Honestly, he’s probably getting some water. He was thirsty.”

The two of you catch up with each other. Talking about the press tour and what you were both planning on wearing for the premiere. You were in the middle of describing your dress when Tom bursts into the room with Jacob trailing behind him.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY WOMAN.”

[witchywrter]

“Home” (Part 5/?)

Paul Lahote x reader

Part 4

Summary: y/n returns from college in California to her hometown in Forks to find things are not as she left them. She soon discovers that a lot more things have changed then she initially thought.

Warnings: mentions of death, car accident, verbal fighting, cussing, i think that covers it

A/N: i am literally so sorry for not updating sooner guys lmao i’m trying to update all my fics now, especially this one bc i love it. i’ll get the next one out next week. love you all!_______________________________________________

You felt so much pain as you began to regain consciousness and could make out someone calling your name.

“Y/n?”

You turned your head to the source of the sound to see a Doctor at your side, his hand on your arm. He was very handsome. Not exactly your type, but still. He looked to be around your age, far too young to be a Doctor already.

“Hello Y/n, my name is Dr.Cullen. You’ve been in an accident”

Your head was throbbing and you felt pain radiating from your stomach and leg. You looked around to find that you were indeed in the hospital.

You looked down at his hand on your arm. It was ice cold, absolutely freezing. He must have noticed you looking because he removed his hand.

“How long have I been here?” you asked, looking back to the Doctor.

“About a day and a half. Do you remember anything?” he asked kindly.

“There was a man in the road, he came out of nowhere. I swerved to try to avoid him” you said trying to remember.

“Your car flipped four times and caught fire. A piece of glass punctured your abdomen and another your left thigh, narrowly missing your femoral artery. We were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize your condition. You’re lucky to be alive, if your friend hadn’t been there to pull you out when he did, you could have died” he finished, shaking his head.

“My friend?” you asked.

“He’s from the reservation, one of Jacob Black’s friends I believe” he said.

Well that didn’t exactly narrow it done much. Your car was totaled most likely. You’re dad’s car, the one thing you had left of him.

“You’ll be okay, but you need your rest. You can be discharged tomorrow morning and the stitches will dissolve on their own in two weeks” he said has he picked up your chart and began walking away.

“Oh, one more thing. Sherif Swan called me, if you still want that internship, send over your resume and you can start after your two weeks” he said with a slight smile on his lips.

“Thank you Dr.Cullen” you called out as he left to check on other patients.

You looked over to your side to see an array of gifts on the beside table and chair. There seemed to be something from everyone. Flowers with cards from Leah, Sam, Emily and even Charlie and his daughter Bella and a big card from Quill, Embry, Collin, and Brady with all their own little messages and signatures.

The huge, brown bear sat on the chair with a red ribbon around its neck didn’t seem to have a card accompanying it.

You grabbed your phone from the side table and unlocked it. There were a few messages from friends and one from your mom. You opened up your mom’s message and read:

“Why did I have to find out from the Sherif that my daughters been in a car accident. You know what it was like for me when your father passed and the fact that you’d put me through that again is appalling”

This was followed by multiple messages about how horrible of a daughter you were and how you have no excuse for ignoring her text messages.

She had no right to bring up your dad like that. As if you got into an accident to hurt her, as if you were unconscious and not responding on purpose.

Your dad was driving home one night after a long night at the hospital when he was hit by a drunk driver. He was pronounced dead at the scene. You never got to say goodbye. Never got to tell him you loved him one last time.

You turned your phone off and set it on the side table and laid back down. Although you were out for a day and a half, you felt utterly exhausted, mentally and physically. You pulled your blankets back up and closed your eyes, hoping for a full nights rest.

You woke up to the curtains flying back, sunlight flooding the room. Your eyes stung as you were blinded.

“Wake up loser, it’s time for a jail break” Leah said in a very cheerful voice.

“No Leah, I’m not dead and feel amazing” you say in a sarcastic voice.

“That’s exactly what i wanted to hear. Seriously though, are you okay? You scared the shit out of everyone” she said, her voice taking on a concerned tone.

“Yeah, just beat up. Should be at healed up in two weeks” you say, sitting up.

“Here, I brought these from Emily’s house” she said, tossing a long sleeve, pants, socks, undergarments and shoes onto the bed.

After you changed and signed the discharge papers, you and Leah headed back to Emily’s place.

“What a bitch,” Leah said with disgust as she climbed the steps.

“I know, I still can’t believe I’m related to her” you say shaking your head.

Leah opened the front door and you hear “Surprise!” as you walk through. Everyone but Collin, Brady, Quill and Paul were there for your second homecoming.

Jake ran up to hug you, but Leah stepped in front of him.

“You wanna rip her stitches dumbass?” she said like a mother correcting her child.

“Oh shut it Leah” Jacob said, but gave you a much gentler hug than he originally intended.

“How are you?” Jake asked.

“Well I think I might fall over and die if one more person asks how I am” you say laughing. You stop as a stabbing pain shoots from your abdomen.

Sam, Emily and Seth hug you as well before you finally make it to the couch to sit down.

“What happened?” Embry asked taking a seat next to you with Leah on the other side.

“I was driving back here and I looked down at my phone for barely a second and when I looked back up there was a man in the road” you said.

“Well you know what they say about texting and driving” Seth said but the joke fell flat as no one laughed.

“What did the man look like?” Jake asked in a serious tone.

“Pale I guess, black hair, I’m not really sure. Why?” you asked, confused.

“No reason, just wondering” he said looking over to Sam who was sitting on a stool by the counter talking to Emily.

“Do you know who pulled me out?” you asked Jacob.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Dr.Cullen said one of our friends pulled me out of the car before it caught fire”

“Oh, uh, Paul did” he said.

Paul. Of all of your friends you had thought it might have been, that was the absolute last person you’d think would save you. If anything he’d probably be the one to toss you right into the flames.

“Oh” was all you said.

The front door opened and in walked Quill and Paul.

“Well I’ve gotta get back to..work” Jacob said standing up.

“Me too” said Seth as he followed Jacob to the door.

“Heal up Y/n!” Jacob yelled over his should and he and Seth left.

Quill came over and sat where Seth had just been and gave you a hug and Paul went straight to Sam without even acknowledging you.

Not like it mattered anyway.

“How are y-“ Quill started.

“Fine” you cut him off.

Through the rest of the day, people started to leave one by one as they had work, school or other things to get to. Eventually Paul said his goodbyes to Sam and Emily and began walking out the door, again without saying a word to you.

You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself and momentarily excused yourself from your board game that you were beating Embry in. You walked out the door just as Paul was off the steps.

“Hey!” you called to him.

Paul stopped and slowly turned back to you.

“What?” he asked rudely, not fully meeting your gaze.

Instead of responding with the same attitude, you walked down some of the steps.

“I just wanted to say thank you. Jacob told me what you did” you said gently.

“It wasn’t exactly like there was a choice in the matter” he spat.

“Could you just not be a complete asshole for once in your life? I’m trying to thank you for saving my life” you said, anger getting the best of you.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” he said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising your voice.

“Nothing. I-I can’t do this right now, I won’t do this right now” he said, voice equal to yours now.

“No, come on Paul, let it out. Say what you need to say!”

Paul started shaking with anger and as much as you knew you should stop, your anger wouldn’t let you.

“Say. It.” you seethed.

“Paul!” you heard as the front door swung open.

You turned around to see Quill come running down and barreling into Paul, pushing him away from you. Sam came running out too.

“Get him out of here!” Sam yelled.

Quill grabbed Paul and pulled him out into the woods.

“What the hell?” you asked

“Get inside Y/n!” Sam yelled.

“You don’t tell me what to do” you said angrily

“Get. Inside. Now.” he said sternly.

You scoffed but turned on your heal and went inside and upstairs, waking right passed Emily and ignoring her as she called out to you.

Who did they think they were, telling you to get inside. Paul always had anger problems, this wasn’t anything new.

You hate him.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” replayed again and again in your head. You hated him for making you feel less than, for making you feel worthless.

Him saving you meant nothing. He was a dick to you your entire life and you didn’t care that Sam asked you to lighten up on him. No one bit.

As you laid down to sleep, not even bothering to take off your clothes or change, you wiped the single tear that escaped. You hated him and always would.

//////////////

You were walking through the woods to get to your favorite spot again. It was the middle of the night, but Jacob asked to meet you there. The moonlight shown through the thick trees, illuminating your path.

Everything was so green and beautiful, you missed being home.

You walked a little farther when your foot hit something, stopping you in your tracks. You looked down to see a rock jutting up from the ground. It was the same one you fell on the other day. It still had blood on it, fresh and bright and not at all dried. That wasn’t right. You fell days ago, it should be dried or the rain should have washed it off.

*Snap*

You spun around. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, that same feeling of being watched returning. You shouldn’t be out here. Emily warned you.

You scanned your surroundings, but it was too dark. What happened to the moonlight? You squinted your eyes and saw him-it.

The man from the road, eyes blood red, skin pale as snow, hair dark as the night around him. He cocked his head to the side, watching you.

Where did he come from? Had he been watching you the whole time? Was he in the woods that first day?

You could try to outrun him, you didn’t know how far into the woods you were, you didn’t even remember how you got here. You went to take a step back but he was in front of you instantly and attacked, grabbing your arm.

You jolted upright, breathing heavily. You looked around. You were in your room, at Sam and Emily’s. You were safe. You ran your fingers through your hair as you looked out the window. It was the middle of the night.

There were things that weren’t adding up. Everyone has been acting weird, telling you to avoid the woods, saying that whatever has been attacking people isn’t animal or human, the man in the road, even Paul’s behavior has been worse than normal…something wasn’t right, you could feel it in your gut.

You knew what they told you, the warnings, but with everything that happened with Paul and your mom, you didn’t care anymore. You were gonna find out what was going on, no matter what.

_______________________________________________

A/N: hey guys! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! lots of stuff happened and i swear we’re gonna get more paulxreader interactions from now on. love you all❤️❤️

@that-animebitch @fangirlanotherjust @justdidabadthing @scuzmunkie @ccosmic-illusion

@xthefuckerysquaredx @destroyed-and-damned @classyunknownlover @hglyu @blackloveangel13

@champagnesugamama @bshelley322

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬! | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟗)

note: eeek i’m so excited for y’all to read this!!! it’s honestly one of my fav chapters. read up, there’s some tea at the end ;) so excited for y’all to read the next chapter.

and i just wanted to thank those who have been reading girls on film from the beginning, i started this in april as a quarantine project that i did NOT expect to blow up the way it did. i pretty much jumped into making a series out of it bc it was what so many people wanted & i’m glad i made that decision. so if you’ve been here from the jump and you’re still here, thank you!!! i’m extremely committed to girls on film & i’m genuinely eager to write even more of it, i have so many more ideas. & if you joined a lil later or just started reading, thank u :’) i appreciate all of y’all. ♡ 

playlist

warnings: none

word count: 8.8k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬! | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

    Four slavish years of dedication later, and you were done. You would be done, in just a few hours. You'd sit through a few boring speeches, sure, but then you'd throw your cap in the air. Then you'd really be able to sit in the realization that you finished college, an indubitably incredible feat. You'd been through so much, and so much of it on your own. You were almost entirely independent, especially over the course of these four years. The thought of how much you'd carried on your own back actually made you tear up.

Lucky for you, your best friend noticed.

    "Aht aht!" Aaliyah tsked, rushing over to you when she heard you starting to sniffle. She sat next to you on your bed and cupped your face in her hands, wiping away the tears rolling down your squished cheeks. "No crying. Not when your face is this beat!"

    "Happy tears?" you said, as if it were a question - honestly, your tears came from a source of happiness and heaviness all at once, from all this deep contemplation.

    "Save that for the end, girl," Aaliyah waved her hand dismissively, and you couldn't help but smile, locking eyes with Aaliyah.

     "Love you. So much," you said, for probably the thousandth time that day.

    "I know! Love you too, sis," she pulled you in for a deep hug, nuzzling her chin into your shoulder. "And this dress is to die for. Don't get your makeup on it, now."

Another one of your accomplishments being called to attention - the fact that your best friend was wearing a dress that you made to your graduation, and so were you. You started out college practically without a clue - it seemed that some years asked questions, and other years gave answers.

     "I won't," you pulled away, your hands still on Aaliyah's sides. You lightened up. "Now let's go graduate."

| | |

    "Proud of you, YN," your mom smiled warmly.

    You were standing in front of your parents, who you actually hadn't seen in a few months, despite them living in California too. You didn't really make it a priority to talk to them - honestly, you never had. Your relationship with your parents had been almost stonelike throughout your life. It wasn't bad, per say, but it wasn't your definition of healthy either. They were sort of just there, playing the role of parents.

    They helped you when you needed help, but they were never really there for you. You had never felt comfortable enough to really open up to them. It was just another part of the reason why your relationships felt the way they did, why you were so adamant on protecting yourself and healthy communication.

Being here with them today was nice, but it was almost fake - your sweet interactions with them tasted like artificial sugar, especially when you smiled extra wide, so much that it hurt your cheeks. But you downed it like it was nothing. It couldn't hurt to have them here.

     "Thanks, mom," you pulled her in for an awkward hug, then your dad.

You found yourself just standing in front of them, clenching and unclenching your fists, unsure of what to say next.

    "We... made dinner reservations for this nice restaurant in town. We thought you might want to join us, to celebrate," your dad offered - at least he was trying, you noticed.

You smiled sadly, because you had already made plans with friends. Still, you weren't sure a dinner with your parents would be your idea of celebration, so, a little selfishly, you were glad.

    "Aww, that's sweet of you guys, but I already-"

    "Hey!" you were interrupted by Aaliyah's trill as she slid up next to you, holding balloons and what looked like not one, but multiple bouquets. Like always, her whole family came to congratulate her. You kind of wanted to see Aaliyah's parents instead. Aaliyah paused slightly when she saw your parents, who she knew too since you had been close friends for ages. She smiled softly, eyes darting between the three of you, and continued. "Hey Mr. and Mrs. YLN! Wow, it's been a while. Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to talk to YN about our... plans?"

Aaliyah seemed to be looking to you for guidance on what to say- you had planned something for tonight with her, but Aaliyah in no way wanted to interfere with whatever your parents had planned. She knew you felt incredibly neutral towards them, but she felt like maybe this would be an opportunity for you and your parents to finally open up to one another. Her plans with you could wait.

    "Hi, Aaliyah, it's good to see you," your dad grinned, and pulled her in for a hug, along with your mom.

    "Uhh. I was saying it would be nice, but I have plans with Aaliyah and a couple other people, so."

    "Oh, uhm, actually, if it's a problem we can just hang out some other time," Aaliyah suggested, looking up at you for acceptance, shrugging. "And, my family wants to hang out too, so, I won't really be able to hang out tonight. If that's okay. By the way, my parents wanted to give this to you..."

Aaliyah handed you one out of her many bouquets, and you took it with grace, smiling down at the assortment of flowers. She kept looking up at you, and you could tell she was sort of pushing you to take this opportunity for your own sake. She wasn't trying to intervene, but she knew what was right for you as your close friend, and she figured both you and your parents deserved some personal time with each other. You and Aaliyah already hung out a lot.

    "Up to you, YN," your mom replied, but by the way she was slightly bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet told you the decision you had to make.

You smiled at everyone, though you were withholding a deep sigh. Tonight would probably be another night of unraveling and healing, you had to prepare yourself. But until then, you would be celebrating.

❁❁❁

    Steve was busy, workwise and otherwise. He was out of town on a mission with Sam and he barely had any way to communicate with you. But thoughtfully, he had told you that he wouldn't have his phone, so there was no need to question his silence. Besides, early this morning before he left, he made sure to text you a short but sweet congratulatory message to praise you for your graduating. As brief as the message was, it was genuine and kind, and left you grinning the whole morning through, thinking of him.

    Now though, Steve was heading back to headquarters to report back to Fury, in the Quinjet which was being manned by Sam.

    "Couldn't you have just flown back?" Steve attempted to make a joke, though in all reality he was tired and just trying to grasp onto sanity - it wasn't only work that was occupying his mind this week. It was also you, and he was twisting his own arm trying to arrange plans to meet you. Doing so discreetly seemed to be a bigger issue than he had anticipated.

    "Ha-ha," Sam bleated, a smile on his face. Steve sat down next to Sam in the cockpit, making him look over. "For someone like you, you sure seem tired."

    "Ahh," Steve laid his head in his hands. "Just busy. Work and otherwise."

    "Otherwise?" Sam intoned. "Do tell."

Steve chuckled and shook his head,

    "I can't really wrap my head around it myself."

    "Huh. Does it have anything to do with why you've been so happy recently?"

    "Gosh," Steve sighed, not even ready to combat the way he knew Sam was about to grill him. "Everyone thinks this is about a girl."

    "Woah- I didn't say anything about no girl. You finally got some snatch, huh Steve?"

Steve chortled at Sam's vulgarity, and the topic of the question in general. Ironically, the answer was both yes and no. Yes, if it counted onscreen.

     "Shouldn't have said a word, huh?"

    "No, you should not have. To be fair though, Bucky has been pestering me to ask you. Don't think you'd tell me if you won't even tell him, though," Sam admitted.

    Steve had to admit, the idea of someone finding out before he was ready made him anxious. Not to the point where he was ready to abandon all his plans, but enough to make him feel like he had to be careful. He didn't want to hide the fact that he was happy, he just didn't want people in his business about it. It was the last thing he wanted when it came to you. He wanted privacy, wanted to wait until he was ready to come out with it. He could only hope that if and when he did, the positives would outweigh any possible negatives or doubts. The last thing Steve wanted to do was let anyone down - not because of what you did, but because he knew it sounded rash, whether you were a sex worker or not. So sue him if he didn't wanna tell on himself. Not before he even got to have you all to himself.

    And now that he was sitting through the logistics of getting you here, avoiding Bucky's suspicions was like clockwork. He had to be more aware around him, off of his phone, no matter how much he might want to text you. He didn't want trouble in paradise before he even got there.

    "There's no girl," Steve said, as seriously as he could. Sam smirked, side eyeing him a few times, trying to rouse something out of him, and Steve laughed again. "'M serious."

    "Okay. Hey, listen, even if there was, you know we'd have your back right?"

Steve almost blushed - sometimes he could feel so silly for being so private about the situation. Like he should just stop letting precautions impede him. But his smarts got the best of him every time, and thank god for that. He knew his friends would have his back, after all they weren't just his coworkers. But they couldn't possibly expect Steve's situation to be anything like this. Their reactions wouldn't be basic. Besides, there was more than just work and his team dynamic to worry about - there was the issue of your own safety, booking flights and privacy in general. It was worth a lot of work and a lot of contemplation. Nothing he wasn't willing to do for you, but still, he needed the transition to be as seamless as possible.

     "I know, I know," Steve replied. "Just got a lot on my mind these days, that's all."

     Sam patted Steve's back, squeezing his shoulder,

     "Let me know if you ever need to talk about it. I'm your guy."

    "Sure, pal. Sure."

| | |

     Back at the Stark Tower, in the midst of their debrief meeting, Steve decided he should let his team know his plans in advance. Not entirely, but enough so that when he did take the short break that he would be taking in order to accomodate you, it wasn't too much of a surprise.

    He was sitting at the head of the table, opposite end of Tony, his hands clasped together. It was a bit nerve wracking to sit in front of everyone and tell them this simple thing, because there was so much that would lead up to this simple decision. It was all riding on one thing- being able to see you, in the most practical way for the both of you. And, he didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than he already had by being in a better mood and being practically glued to his phone. Everyone suspected him already. So, he tried to keep his voice steady and his eyes low when he made the announcement,

    "I'm thinking of taking a few weeks off. Soon."

    "How soon?" Tony asked, cocking his head.

    "Not sure yet. Thinking in about two weeks, maybe," Steve replied. "And, I'll still be coming in, just not as frequently. By time off I just mean I'm going to be living in my apartment... not here."

Steve had a nice, but common apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, close to where he lived as a child. He sometimes went back and forth between that apartment and Avengers Tower, but he lived with the others for the most part. When it came to you, he wanted to give you as much attention as he possibly could, given the duties of his job, and that meant that he wanted to live with you for some time. He'd retire from the tower for a while and just focus on you, only coming in when he needed to. That way you wouldn't take over his life, but he'd have enough time for you.

    Steve looked around the table, gaging the reactions from everyone. Most everyone seemed fine with Steve's decision, but Bucky was looking at him a little funny, and Sam seemed to have a small smile on his face, whereas Nat was nodding slowly.

    "Well," Tony grunted, shrugging. "You are the boss... for whatever reason. Your call."

    "Thanks for letting us know," Wanda added in, to cover up Tony's comment.

    "Yeah, Steve," Bucky echoed, though he appeared much less thankful, glaring up at him with those striking eyes of his.

Steve shifted in discomfort, clearing his throat,

    "Well, just wanted to make sure you all are aware."

    "We'll miss you," Nat chimed in deviously, and Steve smirked over at her.

    "Won't disappear on you guys, I promise."

❁❁❁

    As much as you tried to distract yourself in the few hours leading up to the dinner with your parents, it admittedly made you nervous. Thinking about talking to them in private rang up so many things that could go wrong in your mind. And again, it wasn't like you had a bad relationship with your parents. It was more like you didn't have a relationship at all— which, now that you thought about it, was bad. You just felt like it would be... awkward. It wasn't quite your idea of a nice graduation night.

    So, on the Lyft there, to calm your nerves, you decided to call Steve. You hoped you wouldn't be interrupting him or bothering him, considering the fact that he had told you he'd be unavailable for a portion of the day. You had already triple texted Aaliyah, but she was out with family, so she wasn't on her phone. You were chewing on your lip as you waited for Steve to pick up, and you practically sighed out of relief when he did.

    "Hi, doll," he said, his voice warm even if slightly tired.

    "Hey," you sighed. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

    "Course not," he cooed. You could practically picture the pout on his soft lips when he spoke, and it only made you want to see him in person more. "Everything okay, doll?"

     You giggled, your mood already boosted just by talking to him. The fact that he sounded so concerned when you hadn't even expressed your worries yet warmed your heart, gave you a pang in the chest. It also scared you a bit, how much you felt for him, not even having met him yet. Before, you avoided falling for him because it wouldn't have made sense at all, it would've been an issue of safety and logic. Now, you could feel yourself falling for him, and although you were sure you'd be safe with him, it was still something that you could hardly grasp.

      It made your throat run dry just to think of it. It was all good, and then some nerves on the side. You still didn't know what to expect. And the fact that you were calling him while you were under stress, looking for his reassurance, showed you that you were in deeper than you thought. But just like Steve, you refused to crack. You had been through enough - you could handle this like a big girl. No more scaring yourself away.

    "I'm fine. It's just, my parents came to my graduation today, and they wanna take me out for dinner later."

    "That's great!" Steve sounded genuinely happy for you.

     You forgot he didn't really know much about how you felt towards your parents. Then you realized that there was still so much you didn't know about each other, even with all the time you spent talking to each other. You figured you'd make it a goal of yours to get to know each other better.

     "Yeah, it's cool, but it's kind of... it's weird, I don't know, it's like... our relationship isn't appalling, but it isn't good either. I've never really felt close to them. Like, accepted? I don't know if that makes sense," you leaned your head against the window, grimacing at how poorly you had just explained yourself.

    "It makes perfect sense," Steve said, so surely that you felt more confident in your words. He was always so firm.

    Everything he said, he meant. Besides, he could tell that you were a bit stressed out. He wanted you to feel secure about the things you were saying, wanted to make sure you felt like you could express yourself without inhibitions. And maybe he could ease your nerves a bit.

      "Well, it's just kind of weird between us. It feels like they've never really been there for me, but they've also never really neglected me. It's complicated."

      "Sounds like they do all the stuff a parent is supposed to do, but they're just not emotionally available," Steve offered, perfectly putting it into words for you.

    "Yeah, exactly that. And, as a result, we've never really been close. So it's hard for us to behave like a happy family. I've just been pretty much independent, I've had to put in extra work to find out what healthy relationships look like my whole life. You know the deal."

And he did. You had talked about your troublesome relationships, specifically your ex. Stece wanted to be gentle with you knowing all that he knew about you and how you felt about relationships, whether they were romantic or not. You were pretty social, but you made lots of executive decisions about who you wanted to be in your life, and just how much you let people in.

    "Mhm, I understand. So you're nervous about it because of that?"

    "Yeah, but talking to you helps," you couldn't help the small smile that grew on your lips, and you knew Steve was grinning on the other side.

     "Well, I'm glad, doll. And if you're looking for advice, I'd say just be yourself. Let it go naturally, don't stress too much about the dynamic. If anything, it seems like they're just trying to get closer to you. Don't let them think it's too late, if you can help it. I'm sure it'll be fine."

    "And if it's not?" you asked, biting your lip as a crease formed at your brow.

    "Then it's just another lesson learned, and it's their fault. Not yours. It's their responsibility to make you feel safe around them. To make you feel like you can be yourself. If they can't do that, then shame on them," Steve replied without missing a beat, his response making your heart pitter patter.

He was so good with words, and everything that came out of his mouth sounded lovely, especially when he was giving you advice. He actually cared about you, and he made it a point to show you. It made your stomach stir in the best way. He paused, then added,

     "No offense to your parents."

    You laughed, shaking your head and biting down on your finger. Honestly, you had lucked out. Steve made you feel so much better with ease. Maybe you could just think about him during the whole dinner with your parents, and you'd be in a good mood. Still, he had made some great points, and you felt like it might be much easier for you to talk with your parents now. He had even made you a little hopeful. Maybe you'd have a good time? It wasn't impossible, but it didn't seem likely. And though you still wanted to get it over with, at least you weren't dreading it.

      "Hm, I'm sure they'll be fine. But, hey, thank you. I really appreciate it. You always know what to say."

    Steve chuckled, thinking back to all the times you'd left him practically speechless or tongue tied, but he appreciated your words.

    "No problem. Just want you to be alright."

You breathed in and out, trying to push away the deep feelings that were coming to the surface- you didn't want to show up to dinner with tears in your eyes.

     "Thanks, Steve. Listen, I'm at the restaurant. Talk to you soon?"

    "Talk to you soon. Don't worry, it'll go great, long as you have anything to do with it."

You chuckled, smiling,

     "Bye."

After you hung up, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. You felt sort of stupid, walking around all dazed with a silly smile, but you were glad your mood was elevated. The reason behind it- it was complicated, but you were grateful for Steve any day.

    The restaurant was dimly lit and not too crowded, so you felt like you could relax a bit. Your parents were already there and waiting for you, so you checked yourself in and you were lead over to your table.

      "Hi," you smiled softly as you slid into the booth with your parents, the two of them sitting on the other side. "Good to see you again."

     "You too," both your mom and dad greeted you, warm smiles on their faces.

All three of you seemed to be a bit nervous, and this was something you took note of. Your parents just wanted to have a regular conversation with you, wanted to connect, and they were a bit anxious to do so.

    "So, congratulations," your mom kept grinning, and you couldn't help but sit back a bit, feeling like you needed to absorb the effort they were making to be nice.

     Your dad slid an envelope across the table, and you opened it with a nervous chuckle, reading the letter they wrote you. It was short and sweet, complimenting you on your accomplishment and how proud of their daughter they were. And in the envelope there was a check, for five hundred dollars - which made your brows raise. Your parents were always able to support you financially, but you hadn't expected this much. You didn't want them to think they could just buy your accompaniment.

     "Wow," was all you could say after a few moments of silence as you composed your thoughts.

     "We figure you could treat yourself," your father reached over and patted your hand, and you struggled to grin.

     "Yeah. Sure. Treat myself, yeah," but really, you were just thinking of how much money you made on your own, from camming, your internship, and soon from your brand.

     "Don't think too much about it, YN. I know you love to overthink. But it's for you, and all your hard work. We... we just want you to know that we love you," your mother explained, and you could see the way her eyes softened looking at you.

      She was trying. They both were. But, you felt like it was a bit overdue. Maybe they just figured that now that you were grown, it might be easier to start up a fully developed conversation about it. You just wished this idea of theirs had manifested a little earlier.

     Just as your mother was about to continue, the waiter came to the table, and asked what you wanted to drink. You couldn't be any more grateful, and you answered quickly,

        "Dirty olive martini, please. And thank you."

You weren't one to depend on alcohol, but you figured just a bit would get you through this more efficiently. You weren't turned off by your mother's proclamation of love, but it was a bit awkward. You weren't one to express emotional sentiments too often to people who you didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable with.

     The waiter left and you were left with your parents, who were still smiling at you. You felt like screaming at them to stop, but you remembered Steve's words, and you relaxed a bit. You had to at least give them a chance.

    "As I was saying, we want you to know that we love you. We know we've been a little distant throughout your life," your mom continued, and your dad nodded, putting an arm around your mom's shoulder.

     "Right. But, we really want you to know how much we appreciate you. You've changed our lives for the better, even if we don't show it one hundred percent of the time," said your father. "We don't want you to live on feeling like you didn't have the best relationship with us."

You nodded, taking in all of their words, and folded your hands together. You cleared your throat before you continued,

    "Um. I... I really appreciate you guys expressing that to me. And honestly I'm glad you took it upon yourselves. I guess I just wish, you know, that it hadn't taken so long."

     Your mom laughed, understanding you,

     "We spoke about that, your father and I."

     "Huh. Why did it take so long? I mean, I'm your daughter, but I've never once felt truly close to you two. I know you love me, and I know you care about me but... it's been so hard for me to even express myself to you for so long. I guess I just want... I need to know why," you sighed, feeling troubled again.

    Both your mom and dad shared a look, and you watched them take their time to answer you.

    "I guess we just didn't know how to be emotionally open with you. We were there, but not fully, and it's a fault of our own. When it came time for your graduation, we realized you were moving into such a new part of your life. We didn't want to just keep acting like we were fine. And it took a while for us to address it because we didn't know how, just like we didn't know how to be open with you," said your father.

Again, you could understand where he was coming from, but the longer you listened to them, the more issues you found with the things they were saying. You weren't necessarily resentful of your parents, but you grew sort of bored of the fact that you always seemed to know better than them how they should treat you. You didn't expect them to hold your hand, and without your upbringing you wouldn't even be the person that you were, so in a way you were grateful. But it just seemed silly that they didn't know how to communicate. You were the kind of person who valued good communication, anything other than that irritated you.

     "Huh," was all you could say, taking everything in.

     "Dirty martini, a beer, and pink lemonade for all of you," the waiter came back, serving the drinks to all of you.

You thanked him quickly, hardly paying attention, immediately taking a big sip of your drink. You hoped refills were free. You would need as much as you could get.

     "Thank you," your mother's warm voice came back into your mind, and you could feel her eyes on you, observing you as you sipped loudly through the straw.

You pulled back, blushing a bit. She merely smirked, nodding over to the waiter who was walking away now, but not without looking over his shoulder at your table again.

     "What?" you asked, your eyes wide and naive, and your mother chuckled,

     "You don't see the way he was looking at you?"

     "Hell, I saw it," your father echoed, and you stared at them, your eyes blank, your brain scattered.

What the hell was going on? They were making such an effort to be relatable. And you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't feel like you were receiving any special treatment from said waiter, nor did you give a rat's ass.

    "I... didn't notice," you uttered a fake chuckle, raising your brow.

     "Oh, he's in love. No surprise there, you've never had much trouble with boys," your mother waved her hand, and you nearly snorted. She had no idea. Sure, guys thought you were pretty in high school and all, and you had your share of flings. But relationships? There was always trouble. "You know what, I was wondering if you were seeing anybody?"

    "I'd be surprised if you weren't. But you're a bit overqualified for most of these guys. Are you seeing anyone?" your dad pressed on, and you couldn't help but feel cornered, especially because of the current situation you were in with your relationship with Steve.

    No one in your social circle knew about it, it was something you were deliberately working to keep private. It wasn't something you saw yourself revealing anytime soon, because you simply had no reason to, and you were smart enough to know it would only complicate things. Luckily, it hadn't complicated your life or friendships, but maybe you'd tell just Aaliyah at some point.

    You nearly choked on your own spit, trying to remain calm, and failing. When you cleared your throat, you recuperated, took a big sip and replied, mindful of their anticipating eyes on you.

    "I'm... not currently seeing anyone, no. Uhm, would you excuse me, for a second? I have to use the restroom."

You hardly waited for them to give you the go before you scrambled out of your seat, grabbing your phone quickly, and taking another long sip of your drink before you power walked to the bathroom. You pulled out your phone once you were in there and started texting Aaliyah. You knew she was with her family, and you didn't want to be rude, but you were honestly going through it, and that was what friends were for anyways.

YN | aaliyah, this is URGENT. SOS!!!

Liyah | BITCH!! what what what

YN | my parents are... insane. they keep being all affectionate, it's driving me crazy.

Liyah | yn... sometimes you confuse me tbh. isn't that a GOOD thing? it's what they've failed to do for the past 22 years.

YN | exactly! which is why it feels so fuckin weird right now. and they keep asking me about men... how do i break it to them that there is absolutely no one and there won't be one for a while.

You were lying, because there was a man. And in that retrospect, you had technically lied to your parents. You didn't need them asking questions, not when the man was Steve Rogers. But Aaliyah didn't know that - she still figured you were in your independent single woman phase. And technically, you still were both independent and single. But you wouldn't be surprised if Steve changed you being single real soon.

Liyah | listen, i love you, but i think you're just resisting because it's all super new to you. i get that it's their fault and that they can't just switch up, but they're trying, and i think you know that!! just let it happen, yk?

You sighed. She was right. You were resisting. Steve had made you feel less nervous about the situation, but now that you were actually in it, you were nitpicking everything that you felt was going wrong. You just didn't understand why it took them so long to open up to you, why you had to live your life this way. It all seemed so sudden. But maybe, you would just have to accept it, and let it be. Maybe it was the universe's way of telling you that things were going to get easier. You texted a simple: "you're right, love you," and fixed yourself up before heading back in. You'd be less begrudging, but you still needed a drink. Or two... or three or four.

The rest of the night you let your parents dote on you, as unnatural as it felt, and with every compliment you took a sip. And as much as you valued communication, you found yourself willingly shutting down, letting your parents insist on loving you like "they knew they should've been", while you happily sipped away at the growing number of martinis you were receiving. At some point, you knew you should stop, but you had gone overboard long before you knew it, and you had barely even touched your food.

    "Honey, did you hear me?" your mom asked, and you looked up from the bottomless pit that was your drink. Honestly, you hadn't spoken much the whole dinner, at least not what was on your mind. And right now, you were feeling like you had a lot to say, that was all bubbling up too fast.

    "Hm?" you hummed, distracted, your eyes bleary.

    "We were saying we wanted to maybe spend the week together, you know, bonding? We've made a rough itinerary of stuff to do."

      You sighed loudly, not able to hide your despair and slight annoyance. You appreciated the effort, but why wasn't this enough for them? Why couldn't they just gain some clarity, feel better about themselves now that they thought they had redeemed themselves, and go on about their lives? You tried to think about the things that Aaliyah and Steve had said, but it was hard for you to be mindful and not nitpick or purposefully reject their approach when you were drunk and hadn't even spoken your mind the way you wanted to. You needed them to know how you really felt.

     Your parents could tell you weren't satisfied, and glanced at each other shortly before looking back over at you.

      "I understand that you may not think this is the ideal way to bond. I know it's been far too long, but-"

     You interrupted your dad, the words spilling out before you even had a chance to really think it out,

     "Mom, dad, I don't think you know me at all. I mean, honestly. And I get that you're trying to get to know me but... you can't just say it's been far too long and think that this solves everything. I know you think that you're doing something good for all of us, mainly yourselves, and I appreciate you trying, but I'm at a point where I just can't accept delayed communication. You're telling me you didn't know how to love me? I'm your daughter. You practically threw this at me, this... intervention, this facade of solving our issues, which were unspoken until now. Do you even know what I've been doing with my life, besides attending college?"

By the looks on their faces, you could see that they were miffed, unsure of what to even say. You knew this wasn't the "right" way to talk to them, but you couldn't stop now. Your brain wasn't clear, but you were saying everything you were thinking.

    "I mean, fuck! I'm a camgirl, for god's sake. And I never thought I would've been telling y'all that, because you've never even made me feel comfortable enough to tell you the most basic shit about me. And if this changes how much you respect me, I don't know what to tell you. It's what the fuck I've been doing and it's led me to meet people that are more emotionally available than either of you ever were. There's so much shit about me that you just wouldn't know because you never seemed to care to know. And now, you're trying to solve whatever issue we have and not even... I mean, it doesn't seem odd to you? You're pretending this is normal, like the way you've acted was ever normal. Shit."

    You knew you were rambling, and definitely saying things that wouldn't have left your mouth if you were sober, making confessions that weren't even necessary and things that you knew you'd probably regret. But your mind was running a million miles a minute right now, and you had shut down all your coping mechanisms, until all that was left was word vomit. Normally, you wouldn't behave like this. You had learned enough how to handle tough situations that came as a surprise - Steve and your ex taught you that. But something about this actually felt empowering.

      You didn't feel like you were moving backwards when it came to the long healing process that you were still guiding yourself through. Was it the most efficient, ethical way of expressing yourself? Maybe not. But you didn't think you would be nagging yourself about this night and how you had communicated. It wasn't that you didn't care, but maybe that you cared just enough — for yourself. You had to be true to yourself. It was essential to your self care. Besides, you hadn't gone off on somebody in a long time. Even if you were slurring your words, you'd made your point.

    You'd literally left them speechless, and as for yourself, you were done. With a big heaving sigh, you gathered up your stuff, including your drink, and muttered,

      "I'm calling a Lyft home. I'd appreciate it if you just... left me alone. For a while. And please keep the check."

You fished out of your purse for the amount they'd given you, leaving it on the table and walking away. It was your luck that they really did leave you alone, and your luck that you were deliberately choosing not to obsess over how that went down. Because honestly, you weren't bothered by it. You had said your piece. It was messy, it was raw, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were sure nature would run its course. For now, you were too tired and drunk to give a shit. By the time you got home, you knocked out on your couch.

| | |

    In the morning, you woke up to many missed calls and texts from your parents, including a text from Steve who was checking in to see how the night went, as well as Aaliyah. You wracked your mind trying to remember what had happened last night, and felt a drop in your stomach when you remembered the things you had said, specifically one thing in particular.

I mean, fuck! I'm a camgirl, for god's sake.

     It wasn't your best moment, but you didn't regret anything else you had said. Still, your hangover was a bitch. You spent a chunk of the morning in complete silence, to ease your throbbing headache, and went through a few remedies hoping to fix your hangover at least a little. You ignored the missed notifications on your phone and just decided to focus on yourself for the first part of the day, chugging water and taking vitamin B6.

      It was when your headache lessened that you decided to take a look at the aftermath, starting first with your parents. You avoided all their texts and instead listened to the voicemail from your mom, which they were both speaking on.

     "YN, we're disappointed in the way tonight went. We wanted to have an open conversation with you, and it saddened us both to see that this was the result," your mom spoke first, making you roll your eyes, then your dad.

     "But after some reflection, and a long conversation between your mother and I, we realized that you made some valid points," your dad continued, and you narrowed your eyes, confused — in all honesty, you had expected utter disappointment and you even geared yourself for manipulation.

     The typical "how could you do this to us?" But that wasn't what you were getting, and it forced you to look deep inside of yourself. You still didn't regret speaking your mind, but maybe that was all you had to do. You didn't have to abandon any chance of reconvening with your parents and building a relationship with them. If anything, it was only going to help you grow. You had every right to be hesitant and feel spiteful for the way they brought it up and attempted to address it. But you knew you didn't have to resist always.

     You just needed time to yourself. You would reconvene when it was right. But right now, tensions were high, and you didn't think it was the right time to try to patch up your relationship. Soon, but not now. Your parents weren't villains. They just didn't have a fucking clue. And you were rightfully angry about that, for feeling like they were trying to squeeze their way into your life now when you had made a life for yourself, when you had accepted the relationship, or lack thereof, a long time ago. It was a cycle with people like this, with all of your relationships. And you realized the universe wasn't out to get you. You just had to work out the kinks. And one day you'd really be at peace with all your relationships.

    You continued listening to them, as they told you that they would try again when you were ready, and even thanked you for your honesty. So, surprisingly, the dinner had gone better than expected. But the real home run came at the end when your mom said,

    "We're proud of you. And we support you in whatever you choose to do. Call us back."

Now that was a surprise. You were glad for everything else you'd said, but you hadn't exactly meant to let your career choice slip. But to hear that they actually supported you, when you had expected everything but that? It kind of meant the world to you.

    You found yourself sniffling up unexpected tears as the voicemail ended, and straightening up. You sat there for a good five minutes just thinking, reflecting on the whole night, when you decided to reply to Steve's text from the night before.

Steve ❤️💙 | Hey! How'd it go with your parents?

Hmm. How to reply?

YN | i thought it went bad, but surprisingly it went better than i realized? call me when you can, i should fill you in.

You put your phone down then and sighed out, sinking further into your couch. It was comfortable being alone, only surrounded by your thoughts. And in a way, you felt a sense of clarity. Issues seemed to solve themselves these days. You'd talk to your parents soon. You were just glad there wouldn't be anything in the way of creating a real connection any longer.

A week and a half later, you were sort of just letting life take its course. You called your parents back, and told them that you were willing to try again, and that you didn't know when, but it would be soon enough. You told them that you appreciated their efforts, and that you wanted to try as a whole to create a bond. You couldn't hold on to your resentment forever. Steve helped guide you through it, talking to you whenever he could about the situation, and about other things.

    You didn't bring up the prospect of the two of you meeting, because he had reassured you a week before that he was making plans, and essentially told you to be patient. He knew you needed the security, needed to know that this was going to happen because you didn't like empty commitments. So he kept you updated. But, not all the way.

    Within that week and a half, you had been out with Aaliyah more times than you could count, celebrating and partying and talking your asses off. You'd slept over at her place, she'd slept over at yours - you spent almost every waking day together, processing your new life post graduation. You knew you didn't have to start work right away, so you would enjoy the new free time on your hands, while being mindful. Soon enough, Aaliyah would be going onto higher education, and while you didn't have a set job or further education plan in mind, you had a lot going on. Getting a job wouldn't be a problem, and your brand and camgirl sessions were still a factor. In fact, you had made your first sale that week - to a customer named Natalie. You were over the moon with joy about it, and it was just cause to celebrate with Aaliyah once again, reveling in the fruits of your labor.

     You were getting somewhere, and it was like you were on fire, surging with possibilities and newness and this feeling of "what's next?"

      The one day you weren't with Aaliyah, you woke up alone in your apartment, on a lovely sunny day, the sun waking you up as it filtered through your shades. You woke with a pleasured sigh, scratching the nape of your neck, and hopped right into a cool shower, rinsing off the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on you while you slept, due to the heat of the spring, which was slowly becoming another Cali summer.

    In the shower, you lathered body wash and various skincare products on your body, taking the time to appreciate your skin. You were grateful for how well you took care of your physical and mental health - it took a lot to be as glowy as you were. And listening to music in the shower like you did, only helped to raise the positive vibrations you were always chasing. You were the picture perfect happy California girl, but there was a lot of work behind the scenes to have that image. Not that you had to try hard to be a beach babe, you were just naturally like that, but actually being happy? That was a whole nother journey down a road that you were actually willing to take.

    When you got out of the shower you slipped into a loungewear set that once again, you had made- a loosely fitting cropped crewneck with matching lavender sweats. You quickly snapped a picture of yourself in the full length mirror in your bathroom and sent it to Steve with intent, knowing he'd die for the way the sweats hung low on your waist and hips, and how you were still sprinkled with cold shower water.

     As for the rest of your day, you didn't really have any plans. Maybe brunch by yourself, and lounging around watching TV. Maybe you'd even surf later today. It was too nice of a day not to.

    All that goes to show, you weren't expecting the doorbell to ring. You didn't invite anyone over, and you hadn't ordered anything. You furrowed your brows at first, then walked over to the door and opened it. To your confusion, there was nobody there. Then, you looked down to see a bouquet of flowers - roses specifically, all colors, even.

Sunshine yellows, sultry reds, pure whites, girlish pinks, even vibrant blues and purples. You wanted to smile, but you were honestly confused. Who was sending you roses? And there was a sleek black box next to the roses. You gazed over it for a minute trying to spot a letter, a name, anything. Nothing to be found.

    You gazed out of your apartment door, craning your neck as you tried to catch the person who'd delivered the roses and mystery box to you. Maybe a mistake? You got gifts from your customers often, but you had a P.O. box for that purpose. You bit down on your lip, and crouched down to take the unexpected gifts in. You closed the door behind you, and set the roses down on the table, as well as the box. It was a little suspicious, but your gut feeling told you it was fine. The worst thing was that it was a mistake, and you'd try to find out whoever these belonged to - then again, you really liked the bouquet. How unique.

    You opened the box first, and your eyes widened when you saw what was inside - a cut out lace bodysuit with straps all around, white, and a satin robe that was a more delicate light pink. Oh yeah, this definitely wasn't for you.

    You closed the box, and moved the roses to the other side of the table, which was when the envelope fell out from the bouquet onto the floor. You rushed over to pick it up, eager to see who it actually belonged to. An audible "hm?" left your lips when you read your name, written in perfect cursive. You blinked a few times, and the gears in your brain started to turn. Steve. Steve! It made perfect sense. You were honestly surprised that it didn't register the moment you saw the gift. Maybe you'd had too much sun - nah, that couldn't be it, you could never get enough sunshine.

    Realizing that it was from Steve generated an incredible amount of excitement in your body, like your engines were revving and you were ready to go. You were practically shaking just out of happiness. The fact that he had the consideration to send you a gift to your home was something you couldn't even register. He was always so kind to you, and of course you hadn't expected any sort of gift from him, for graduation or otherwise. It was just the kind of gentleman that Steve was. And, you hadn't received flowers from what some may call a romantic interest in a long time. It almost made you tear up to think about it.

     You huffed out a laugh, then started to giggle uncontrollably, like a schoolgirl whose crush just asked her to the prom. Your hands trembled as you went to open the envelope from Steve, reading the letter.

    You read the words in his voice, kind and firm and handsome:

"Dear YN,

I wanted to really congratulate you on graduating. It's a big achievement, even for a big girl like you. I know you will genuinely go on to do amazing things, and I'm so proud of you. I'm not sure whether this is overdue or far too early, but I wanted to get you a gift anyway. I hope you love it. You know, Moonrose? Moon. Rose(s). I tried."

You looked over again at the flowers - roses, of course, and how could you miss the little crescent moon decal that was carved into the vase? He really had tried, and been so fucking considerate. Now, you really were crying. He was so sweet without you having to ask him to be sweet, so unlike so many of the relationships you'd had in the past.

And, he tailored the gift to be extremely specific to you. Even if he had just sent you a single daisy, you would've been over the moon. But man, had Steve thought this out. You half-laughed, half-sobbed. You had no choice but to fall for him. You continued reading.

"Anyway, enough about me. Hope your post grad life is everything you wanted and more, I'm so glad you're letting me follow you on this incredible journey of yours. You really are unbelievable. Speaking of more, look inside the envelope one more time.

- Steve.

P.S. I thought the lingerie was cute, think it would look even better on you. Hope it's not too forward of me."

    You wiped away your happy tears. You wanted to read the letter in his voice over and over, but you figured you'd look in the envelope and reread the letter later, until it got deep into the day and you hadn't done much of anything else. As for the roses, you wanted to keep them for as long as humanly possible. And as for the other gift, well, realizing that it was from Steve made you blush. You didn't expect that from him, but it made you laugh to think that he might have been worried that it was too "forward." He'd literally seen you naked more than a few times - what was a little lingerie gift? It was extremely intimate, and you appreciated that. He'd definitely be getting lots of special pictures from you later.

    You set down the letter with a grin on your face that wouldn't go away. You were beaming, and only positive thoughts soared through your mind, matching the pace of the butterflies in your stomach. You looked inside the envelope again as instructed, giddy with delight. Your heart stopped, because what was inside was the biggest surprise of all.

    A plane ticket.

note: eeek you’ve made it to the end of this chapter!!! tell me y’alls thoughts!!!

adding tags later :’)))

[gravitygrenade]

The Hunt

From: @creepybluedreams :

Ok this one is kinda dear to me, cuz 1st femine power, 2nd pig as a pet and 3rd good part of the movie happens in my country lmao.

After this one I’ll request again the actual x S/O ones smh.

This one was pain to write, cuz i tried to tell you about it, without giving off way too much in case if you’d like to watch it, but I pretty much wrote a script of the movie, so I had to shorten it agian, and blah blah blah. This is indeed quite heavily descibed, so I reccomend first googling it, looking at the pictures, if you see it as interasting, please don’t read this because it will spoil good majority of the movie for you, I really tried not doing the desc so big, but it didn’t work smh

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‘nyways. So there is this organization, which would be CPs, and there are bunch of people of course. I’m not sure how many were there in numbers, but 1 is reader, and let’s say 7 that were 'victims’ (more of a pray) and than about six of hunters (creepypasta) again choose with which ones are you most comfortable to write for. So they are trapped in a wooden box, from which they manage to escape, but for a surprise they are smart and don't immediately run out. They saw a black box, which opens just in that moment, there are weapons that they can use. They figure out symbol of it, cuz they were kidnapped, there is a base in front of them that wasn’t actually all that obvious. They were about to be killed. So this dude that has huger balls than an elaphant ran towards the box with weapons. Nothing happened, they all got there, weapons were pretty trash, so good majority didn’t take anything cuz they’re still somehow dumb, and they ran again back, but this time they were attacked, one girl died, and as they were running to safe another one was trapped in a whole with spikes and, well ya know. this went on, now only 6 of them alive. Three managed to get to the store, where was this sweet old couple that turned out to be killers, they killed them and hid the bodies. The main protagonist (preferbly the reader) as well got there, but they figured something was wrong bc husband was about to eat something, but wife started yelling at him and mentioned poison, so reader was like hell nah and killed them, and also their accent was sus. so she got to this car, took off the registration, cuz she lives in california I think, the registration said alabama, but it was like sticked over something, she knew that, took the registration off, and bum! She’s in country Croatia, that was once part of Ex Yugoslavia and that’s olny reason she knows about it. She sees this dude that she’ll team up with (BTW like two of them died in a meantime) so reader and that dude figure out they are tracked and destroy the tracking device. They end up on road, and than in the military base, but military doesn’t trust them when they say what happened, anyways this dude transfers them back to america cuz he got some documents that they live there, but the dude that she was with dies, and than reader somehow ends up in the mansion of the chick that started all of this. They fought and reader kills that chic (whichever CP you want) and gets the hell out of there.

~

Ask and you shall receive

Word Count: 420 Story Contains: Mentions of murder, mentions of blood, gender-neutral reader, and hoodie Requested by: You ~ Their breathing was uneven and jagged, their heart was beating a million miles a minute. It felt as though their heart was going to burst out of their chest at any moment. You tried steadying your breathing as you heard the door creak open. How had you gotten to the point where you were hiding some old man's desk to literally save your life. The echo of footsteps and the metal pipe that your assailant was carrying echoed out against the mahogany wooden floors. You put your hand over your mouth as tears started to fall.

Why did you listen to your stupid friends? This was all a huge mistake you never should've come.

The creaking only went and heightened the very valid feelings of uneasiness. You bit your lip nervously as you waited for something, anything to happen.

Without another word, a masked face with a painted-on frown poked itself under the desk. You screamed and quickly went the other way before running. You ran into the woods, the brushes and trees hitting you occasionally but you paid no mind to them as all you had on your mind was getting away from your attacker. You took a minute to breathe as you leaned against a tree.

You looked up to see a cabin. Maybe someone was inside? You shivered a bit at the cold air and walked towards the cabin. Unfortunately, none of the lights were on and no one was home, on the bright side there were weapons that could be used. You looked around for a quick minute before finding a gun. You grabbed and loaded it right as you heard the door open.

You cocked the gun and aimed at the masked man just nearly missing him. He was caught off guard by you finding a weapon, even more so because you fired it at him, and had he just been a centimeter off those bullets would've pierced him. He slowly almost unnaturally turned his head to look at you.

You grit your teeth and closed your eyes as he ran towards you you shot two shots, both of them hitting him in the chest. You opened your eyes to see him on the ground slowly dying in a puddle of his own blood. You quickly stepped over him and started running back. You were the last one left, what do you do now? How do you explain how all your friends got murdered but you didn't? You shook your head and made your way to freedom.

[foolgobi65]

Ram/Sita + spy au+ friends to lovers + “you know i’ll do anything for you”

lol this...AGAIN....spun out of my control.....and is apparently 6020 words while still having massive massive holes in characterization and plot and ...general stuff..lol. anyways hope u like it? it ended up being way less Spy Spy and more ....arranged marriage au...... because everything i’ve written has basically been that now lol and raazi is the only spy movie i could think of that works bc rama and sita dont have mr and mrs smith vibes to me. love u!!!!!!

----

“Are you serious?” 

The face on the screen is somehow almost as familiar as Sita’s own -- she’s never been one for the gossip rags, but at some point, it’s almost harder not to know the features of someone who’s been famous since his parents announced his conception. 

“You know him, then.” Sita’s handler Kaikeyi seems remarkably even-tempered for a woman charging Sita, her top recruit, to attach herself to the arm of Kaikey’s stepson -- a boy that the papers seem to believe Kaikeyi prefers even to her own Bharata. Sita raises an incredulous eyebrow before realizing that Kaikeyi does actually expect Sita to recite what she knows about her newest target. 

“Ramachandra Raghav,” Sita recites from memory, “but the papers call him Ram. Only son of Dasaratha and his first wife Kausalya, sole presumptive inheritor to the Kosala industries fortune. Dasaratha Raghav and his wife publicly struggled to conceive and adopted a daughter, Shanta, nine years before they had Ram whose birth coincided with the release of Dasartha’s final film and his entry into politics.” Sita purses her lips, unsure if she should continue, but Kaikeyi remains impassive. “Dasaratha and Kausalya divorced when Ram was five, and three months later Dasaratha married you.” Judiciously Sita chooses not to include the fact that Kaikeyi, who during her acting days had only been paired with the already greying movie star, reportedly delivered her eight-pound son Bharata three months early. 

Kaikeyi rolls her eyes, still the same striking green that had made her first film such a hit. “Of course I was pregnant when we got married. What else.” 

Sita racks her mind. “The custody case was unusual -- Kausalya shifted to America with her children, but Dasaratha petitioned for them to stay with him in India. Shanta was 16 and decided to finish school abroad with Kausalya, but the courts decided that Ram would spend alternate years with each parent until he reached his majority.” It was the oddity of the arrangement that kept the Indian public so desperate for news about what otherwise might have been just another star-turned-politician’s son: pictures of Bharata, who was constantly being presented at building openings, movie premiers and other assorted Party functions went for nearly a quarter of the price as those of Ram whose arrival at the Delhi airport became more and more of a national event in sync with his father’s increasing political power. The exoticism of his American English was viewed with as much pride as his unaccented Hindi which the Party often used to great effect, having him canvass his father’s constituents on camera the year Dasaratha was put forward as the party’s candidate for Chief Minister and releasing them online. 

But it has been a few years since Ram was last in India for more than a month or so’s vacation -- at 16 he graduated from school and sent the Indian media into near paralytic shock when he decided to attend university in Delhi. Not even three years dimmed the public’s fascination, which quickly turned into genuine discontent when it was announced that Ram had accepted an offer to do his doctorate in California and had barely been seen in India since. 

“You want me to investigate a Chief Minister’s son?” Again, Sita leaves unsaid the rumors that swirl even in headquarters -- that Dasaratha’s relative competency at state-wide management has made him a viable candidate for even higher office. That after the last election’s dismal results, it is apparent that Dasaratha might be the only remaining Party figure popular enough to lead a coalition that would bring them to power in the Centre after nearly a decade at the periphery. 

Kaikeyi laughs. “Not quite,” she says, still perfect red lips twisting in a faint smile, “Ram is in New York now working for the UN, and it seems that he will have a long and illustrious career in diplomacy which will bring him into contact with all sorts of people of interest to our national security agencies. We need someone at his side to make sure that those contacts are being utilized to their full potential.” 

Sita frowns. “He’s too young to need a trusted aide or a secretary.” 

“Correct. That’s why we’re sending you to New York as his wife.” 

-- 

When Sita is 18, a woman comes up to her on the street asking if she’d like to be a model. As a laugh Sita shows up at what the woman’s business card says is the head-hunting agency’s main office only to be quickly moved to a backroom, divested of her backpack, phone and shoes and investing her with a new lifelong wariness of strangers with offers too good to be true. Her father is the aging yet venerable University President -- they don’t have the money for ransom, but Sita just as quickly rules out potential trafficking since her father has one or two connections that would raise quite the fuss if he informed them that his daughter was missing. But before she can think of another reason behind her apparent kidnapping, the door opens, and Sita’s life changes with the incoming rush of bright light into the dark room. 

“You’re..” she splutters, eyes raking up and down the perfect figure of the woman in front of her. 

“Yes,” Kaikeyi Raghav says, sunglasses perched delicately at the top of her head as she adjusts the pallu of her elegant chiffon sari. “I’m sorry for all the confusion, but we really needed to get you alone before we could try and talk to you.” 

“Talk,” Sita rasps, suddenly hyper aware of her own dry throat. Kaikeyi sighs, clapping her hands once before taking a bottle of water that appeared almost instantly at the door’s threshold, opening the cap and offering it to Sita who gulps it down. “Talk about what?” Sita asks. 

“One of our associates brought you to our attention about a year ago thinking that with some work you could be turned into something quite extraordinary.” Kaikeyi brings up her right hand to pull down her hair from its updo, the cascades only making her more breathtaking to Sita, whose father always had a soft spot for the old Dasaratha-Kaikeyi films. “I’ve been observing you ever since, and recently came to the same conclusion.” 

Sita can’t help but glow at the praise, even as she tries to keep her sense of rationality -- she’s been kidnapped after all, even if by one of the nation’s most illustrious figures. First: “Are you trying to traffick me into sex work?” 

Kaikeyi laughs, and the sound is clear and captivating like a bell. The more Sita watches, the smaller details begin to stand out -- a mole just slightly to the right of Kaikeyi’s collarbone, the green of the embroidery that brings out those colors in her eyes, the red fingernails that perfectly match Kaikeyi’s lips. 

“Do I look like a pimp?” Kaikeyi’s tone is one that does not truly seek a response, though Sita is not sure she even has one. The proclivities of the rich and powerful are rumored to skew to the truly scandalous, and there is no reason that an elegant woman could not be the front for the procurement of such services. 

“Then is this supposed to be recruitment for politics?” Sita has never thought herself particularly gifted at deception, which seems to be the first requirement for a fruitful career of public service. 

“No,” Kaikeyi laughs again, “but I find it interesting that you didn’t consider that I might be signing you on as a heroine.” 

“I don’t have a face for film,” Sita says, “and I have no intention of leaving Delhi.” 

“You have exactly the face for film,” Kaikeyi counters, “but I agree -- your mind would be as wasted as mine in Bombay.”  

“Then politics?” Sita, who was born and brought up in Calcutta before her father was given a position in Delhi had never given much thought to the Raghav’s stronghold Ayodhya -- she can’t imagine what Kaikeyi could possibly see in her. 

Kaikeyi shakes her head. “What do you know about this country’s intelligence services?” 

Sita blinks. “You want me to be a spy?” 

-- 

Five years after their first meeting, Sita has learned how to handle all sorts of weapons including her own body, how to speak a dozen languages, how to scope out a room. In some strange way, Kaikeyi seems to have filled the gaping hole left behind by Sita’s long-dead mother Sunaina, who Sita is not entirely sure would approve of what her daughter decided to make of her life. There isn’t quite a bond of affection, but there is loyalty beyond even what Sita would have given her own mother -- no better proof than the fact that here Sita is agreeing to marry Kaikeyi’s stepson entirely because Kaikeyi demanded it, where Sunaina would have had quite the shock if she had tried to suggest a man for Sita to wed. Sita had dreamed of marrying for love, but loyalty she reasons is close enough. 

Ostensibly, Sita has finished her MA with high honors and works at an NGO that enjoys Kaikeyi’s patronage -- this, they decide, is how the papers will be told Kaikeyi knows Sita. There are a few strategically leaked photos of Kaikeyi first paying the NGO a visit, then taking Sita out for a series of lunches. Sita finally travels to the ancestral Raghav mansion in Ayodhya for Diwali, bringing along her father to meet and pay his respects to his favorite screen star. 

“You must be Sita’s father,” Dasaratha booms when they approach, somehow brimming with the same vitality and presence that drew such crowds to the theater in his youth. He grins, left arm wound around Kaikeyi’s waist at his side as he turns to speak to Sita. “My wife has grown old and taken up matchmaking to pass the time, but from what I have seen you would be a fine choice for my Ram.” 

Janaka stiffens at Sita’s side, hearing about such an arrangement for the first time, but Dasaratha’s charisma pulls him into its orbit as Dasaratha reaches out his hands. “I confess that I was never well educated myself, but I believe it would only bring me and my family honor to be able to call someone as learned as yourself ‘Brother.’” 

Janaka is sold. Sita, who has never been quite sure about the real dynamic between Kaikeyi and her husband, realizes with some relief that there is genuine fondness, even love, in the smile she flashes her husband. Perhaps there might be hope for Sita herself. 

Dasaratha insists that the informal engagement is enough to justify Sita and her father’s extended stay at the mansion. After one day, he calls Ram himself informing his son that Dasaratha has found him a wife. Within a week, the news reports that Dasaratha’s eldest son has found himself back on Indian soil. 

Sita finally leaves the mansion two weeks after Diwali with the instruction that she must treat the property as her own home whenever she returns to India -- after all, Dasaratha booms, she is his beloved Ram’s wife now, and Dasaratha’s daughter now as much as Janaka’s. 

-- 

“So,” Sita says on their first night, sitting on what's supposed to be their marital bed,  “what name should I call you?” 

Her husband raises an eyebrow, silent just as he has been for almost the entire week since he was called home. Kaikeyi, when Sita asked for details, had not elaborated on the character of her stepson nor had she offered details about how Sita might best seduce him. 

“Follow your instincts,” Kaikeyi had said, smiling at Sita’s frustration. “You’ll know what I mean when you spend time with him.” 

Well, Sita thinks perversely, her instincts are telling her to confess everything to the man she has promised herself to in front of her father, and God almighty. Somehow, she is meant to maintain a lifelong relationship with a man she is only now speaking to, and to mine his contacts for information to send back to her handler, his stepmother. 

“The papers call you Ram,” Sita says, only a little sullen at the thought of the task ahead of her, “as does your family. Is that what you prefer to go by?” 

“My father’s family,” he corrects mildly, and Sita immediately flushes at the mistake. Kaushalya and Shanta had of course come, but arrived only the night before the wedding -- Sita had met them both the morning of, but only enough to touch their feet and have Kaushalya cluck, teary-eyed, over the beauty of Sita in her wedding sari. 

“Of course,” Kaushalya had said off-handedly to Shanta standing at her side, “Kaikeyi has always had excellent taste.” Sita had not trusted herself to answer. 

“Will we live with your mother in America?” Sita has been provided with what she considers shockingly little information regarding her future living situation -- Kaikeyi insists that, largely, this assignment requires Sita to effectively live her own life and as such being more information than provided a new wife would only detract from her performance. 

He shakes his head. “My mother and Shanta live in New York too, but Shanta needed to be closer to Columbia and...” he looks away, suddenly just slightly awkward. “Things changed so much for Mother throughout my life that I think she was finally able to find some type of stability when I was away at university. When it turned out that I was moving back, I didn’t want to be the one to throw her life back into flux.” 

Sita nods. “Are you close?” 

Her husband hums, fingers of one hand slightly worrying at the hem of a blanket. “As much as I can be, having spent every other year away.” 

Sita can’t imagine -- for years, the story of the boy caught so explicitly between two worlds has always been interesting or amusing, but now that she’s confronted with him in the flesh she knows that it must have been sad, too. She tries to imagine a mother committing to the notion that the child she waves off at the airport gate would not be the one who returned, and finds that it’s impossible. 

“It must have been difficult,” she offers, not elaborating on whether she is speaking of her husband’s family, or himself. 

He nods. “Father and Mother Kaikeyi always had Bharata, and the Party. I was glad when Mother found Sumitra and the boys.”

Sita’s eyes widen. “A friend?” 

He turns his body to look at her for the first time head-on. “No,” he says, eyes boring into Sita’s, exuding the same gravitational force as his father. “Her wife. The boys are my Father’s during a...period of disagreement with Mother Kaikeyi, and when Sumitra decided to keep them Mother brought her to New York to have the children. They fell in love.”

This is a test, Sita realizes, and for the first time, she realizes the wisdom of Kaikeyi’s lack of preparatory material even as she curses Kaikeyi in equal measure. She would have liked to have not been blindsided, but there is a truth to her reaction she could never have mimicked so effectively. Her mind roils with the amount of information relayed in such few sentences -- Dasaratha, already so old, still fathering sons. Kaikeyi and her husband having a disagreement so strident it sent him into another’s arms. Kausalya, raising more of Dasaratha’s children as her own. Kausalya, in love with a woman. 

Her silence has drawn on too long during her contemplation, and her husband’s eyes have gone cold as he leans away from her. 

“You call her Sumitra,” she decides on, “but if she’s your mother’s wife, should I call her mother in law as well?” 

Her husband is wide-eyed himself for a moment, but then his face cracks into a smile just dripping with sudden, unexpected delight. Sita’s heart skips a beat at the sight. 

“It would make her very happy if you did,” he says. “And as for me, my mother has always insisted on calling me Ramachandra and none of my siblings use my name at all. You can call me whatever you’d like.”  

---

“Rama!” Sita exclaims, trying to rise from the chair behind her desk and managing to trip on the hanging sleeve of the sweater she had been sitting on. She laughs, picking herself up off the ground. “Oh, and you brought the boys too!” 

It’s been a year since Sita moved to New York, a year in which she’s found fulfilling work at a South Asian women’s shelter, learned how to navigate herself via subway to find the best of ten different cuisines in New York, read three books related to Shanta’s new area of interest, featured in the boys’ Instagram Lives over 20 different times, and found herself a best friend in the form of her husband. 

Ram, she had decided, was how the public knew him even if his father’s family chose the same. Ramachandra was much too long. Rama was short, sweet, vowels easy in Sita’s mouth. 

“No one calls me that,” he’d said when she’d first used the name, his tone again one of unexpected delight. “I’ve always thought it was strange that they never did.” 

Sita’s due a lunch break, but she’s always been prone to eating at her desk unless she’s eating out -- a budgeted, once weekly expense she keeps track of after the humiliating exorbitancy of her first month’s bill. 

“We have money,” Rama had said, bemused at Sita’s profuse apologies. “I’ve got a trust fund, but my salary certainly pays well enough for this.” He’d glanced at the bill Sita had handed him as she had wrung her hands in front of him, so unsure of how she’d managed to spend so much. “It looks like this is mostly just restaurant charges anyway, and,” he’d looked up at Sita with a smile, rising to hold her hands before she could twist them again, “you live in New York now. I’m glad that you’ve spent the last month trying all sorts of the things the city has to offer. It’s exactly what I did when I moved back, except I probably spent twice as much.” 

Sita had felt the first of many twin pangs at his kindness -- one pang of joy, at being with someone so well suited to herself, and another of sorrow when she thought of how their relationship was founded on a lie. Kaikeyi had told Sita that there was no need to actively seek out contacts for at least the first year, and so the extent of her real work was having regular conversations with Kaikeyi that easily blurred the line between professional and personal relationships. 

“Is he any good at sex,” Kaikeyi had asked one day after asking for a report about Rama’s “family situation” which Sita found distressingly similar to the inquiries of a second wife wondering about her husband’s former paramours. Sita had hung up. 

“Sita?” Sita starts, bringing herself out of her reverie and smiling. 

“Sorry,” she says, grabbing her coat. “I was just thinking about something.” 

“Something interesting?” He takes the coat and holds it out for Sita to slip her arms into, smoothing down the lapels when she turns around. “I spent the whole morning stuck in the single least productive set of meetings, and knowing them they’re probably arguing about what appetizers to get for lunch. I’ve never felt as lucky as I did when I told them all that, unfortunately, I’d already logged that I was taking a half-day to take care of my brothers.” 

The boys scowl. “We’re thirteen years old,” Lakshmana says. Shatrughana nods in agreement. “We could have gone home by ourselves!”

Sita flashes Rama a smile, leaning down with an expression as if in deep thought. “That’s true enough -- if you’d like we can send you home and just join you after I finish work, but aren’t your moms on a health kick right now?” 

Lakshmana, always the more suspicious of the pair, crosses his arms. “And?” 

“Well,” Sita drawls, hearing Rama snort softly next to her, “your brother and I were thinking of taking you to the greasiest joint we can find in walking distance, and then to 7/11 after to find you both snacks for when you spend the weekend at our apartment. But if you’d rather not, that’s totally ok too!” 

The boys fall for the line, hook and sinker. 

“Oh,” Lakshmana says, voice suddenly a pitch lower than usual as he squares his shoulders in what Sita doesn’t think any of the three recognize is his best imitation of Rama, “that’s ok.” He looks over at Shatrughana, who nods. “Family is important. Let’s go eat!” 

“Thank you,” Rama says softly after they’ve finally decided where to eat and are walking in the correct direction. Sita raises an eyebrow. “You’re good with the boys,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “I was expecting to have to take them out on my own, and stay at my mother’s when I wanted to spend time with them but --” 

Sita interrupts him before he says something truly embarrassing about what she only sees as a pleasure. “It’s easy when they’re such good kids,” she says, “and I would have done it even if it was harder. It’s the least I could have done for you, after everything.” 

Everything being the credit cards he’d given her when they landed, his insistence that he wouldn’t monitor her spending and would set up a bank account for her that he would periodically transfer money into but not be able to access. Everything being the books he shared with her and the books he read on her recommendation, in turn, the concerts they’d attended together, the plays and musicals and movies and street festivals. Everything being the conversations they’d had on the couch until late at night, the meals he learned to cook because they reminded her of home. 

The one similarity underlying all others between them, Sita realized one day, was that they had both grown up lonely, without anyone person, they could claim truly, entirely understood them. Neither of them had had a best friend until they met the other. By unspoken agreement, they had not consummated their marriage that first night, nor during the first few hectic months of Sita’s acclimation to New York. Eventually, it became easier to simply maintain things as they were and to enjoy the novelty of a companion before things became ... complicated. 

If a part of Sita insisted that she hold off from sex so as to not build even more on an inherently unstable foundation -- if that same part screamed that her husband had given her trust beyond all else and she squandered the gift every day she didn’t tell him who she really was -- then that was something for Sita, and only Sita, to think about.

--- 

“Oh,” Sita hears from the bathroom threshold, glancing through the mirror at the figure Rama cuts in his tailored tuxedo. It’s been nearly a year and six months since their marriage, and what Sita thought of as friendship has since bloomed into a wild, uncontrollable love. Yet, she keeps her love to herself, knowing that it would be cruel to offer him fruit with a rotted core. 

He cares too, she knows -- only a fool could willingly ignore the little signs of it he offers so freely, long and lingering looks, kisses to her cheek, forehead, the corner of her lips and the edges of her knuckles. She knows that her resistance to further intimacy must confuse him, perhaps even hurt him, but still, she can’t help but think that things would be worse if she gave in only for him to find out later. Sometimes, she wonders if Dasaratha knows about Kaikeyi -- if Lakshmana and Shatrughana owe their existence to a revelation of the truth which so discomfited their sire that he sought another woman to drown in. 

Sita is selfish, far too much so, to allow the truth to poison what she now has, half-life as it is. So she smiles over meals Rama cooks for her, meets the contacts Kaikeyi has started sending her way during lunch breaks she takes less frequently at her desk and begins preparing her heart for when things will inevitably fall apart. Today, she and Rama will attend a gala meant to raise funds for refugees which will double as a drop-point for some dissident’s data collection from the last five years on the inside of their regime’s surveillance operation. 

“You look beautiful,” Rama says, walking in. Sita’s hands, haphazardly smoothing down the last wisps of hair that refuse to curve to her skull in their updo, pause when he places his own over them. “Is that my mother’s sari?” 

Sita nods. “The style has come back,” she says, reaching out to the counter for the strand of jasmine Sumitra had sent to their apartment to be paired with Kausalya’s sari. “Even Kaikeyi approved, which means that this outfit technically has the approval of all three of your mothers, and your sister as well.” 

Rama smiles softly, taking the jasmine and pinning it up with a deft hand that speaks of experience. “I’ve never been one to keep up with fashion trends, but I think you wear it very well.” 

“Kaikeyi says it makes me look like a movie star.” In order for the drop to be successful, Kaikeyi had demanded Sita pull out all the stops possible within the relatively demure confines of charity-wear. Sita’s blouse plunges at the back, skin unobstructed by a pallu or bra, and she shivers slightly when Rama’s left-hand traces lines. 

“I suppose she would know,” he says absently, eyes raking up and down at Sita’s reflection in the mirror they both face, passing over her eyes rimmed with kohl and her dark red lips. His right-hand falls to his pocket, searching for a moment before he finds what he needs, pulling out a pair of beautiful earrings Sita hadn’t known he had. 

“Mother Kaikeyi had me get these from storage a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if they would suit what you were planning on wearing.” They look at the pieces in his hands, realizing together how well the earrings will look with Sita’s sari. 

“Will you put them on me,” Sita asks, voice thin and breathy despite herself. His hands are gentle, just slightly cool to the touch as they gently thread the earrings into her lobes, tightening the screws and caressing her ear before moving to ghost over Sita’s hips. If Sita moved into his touch, allowed him to grasp her body so hard that she bruised if she turned her face just slightly and brushed her lips against his -- her entire body is one flame, but even now she is attending this gala with her own motive, even has a small gun she plans on holstering to her left leg as insurance. She can’t. 

She can’t. Sita takes one step forward, Rama’s hands falling back to his own sides. 

“We’ll be late,” Sita says, moving them back into purgatory instead of choosing heaven or hell. 

Rama shakes his head slightly, taking a breath. “Yes,” he replies, tone never betraying a sense of the frustration he must feel. He smiles again, holding out a hand. Sita will tell him one day, she tells herself. He deserves that much. 

“Let’s go.” 

-- 

One day, it seems, will be sooner rather than later. Sita’s very first drop of this assignment, after nearly two years of prep, and it seems like she’s going to end up just another statistic, shot in the head for all her efforts. 

Worse, she thinks, she’s going to break Rama’s heart. The dissident was less careful than they’d thought, trusted someone they shouldn’t have, and now they’re both being held up against a wall and being told to recite any final prayers for their souls. Sita’s single measly gun at her hip wouldn’t change the odds of 10 against 2, especially since no amount of physical training will significantly change the realities of her smaller physique going up against larger numbers of even better-trained muscle. 

She only wishes that she’d thrown caution to the wind once, had told Rama the truth and let the cards fall where they may. She wishes she could see him one more time and apologize, reassure him that her love was true even if her initial motives weren’t. 

“Hey,” she hears from somewhere in the distance, away from their cluster of a firing squad. Her heart simultaneously sinks and soars to realize that the voice is Rama. “That’s my wife!” 

The leader laughs, just as the dissident sobs. Sita clutches their hand tighter. “Then I’m sorry to say that she hasn’t been much of a wife,” the leader sneers, “just another one of Kaikeyi’s little rats meddling where they’re unwanted.” 

“Run!” Sita screams, deciding that she’d rather Rama be alive than hear her confessions before he too is killed. “For my sake run, before they decide to kill you too!” In the back of her mind, she knows that it’s already too late -- people are executed for far less than what Rama is doing, which is continuing to walk forward. 

He sighs audibly, not even pausing his forward momentum. “I’m sorry,” he says, and for some reason, Sita genuinely believes that he is. “You know I’d do anything for you, but there’s something I haven’t told you yet about me.” 

Shouldn’t that be Sita’s line? “What,” she croaks, captivated by how he’s somehow holding the group hostage, each of them curiously watching as he walks right up to wear Sita and her companion stand against the wall. “Please,” she sobs, breaking her own vow to face death with dignity, “if you’ve ever cared about me, you would leave.” 

Rama’s fingers come up to trace Sita’s bruised eye, her puffy lip, the cut at her cheekbone. “Concussion?” he asks, completely ignoring Sita’s plea. 

“It hardly matters,” she says, “when I’m going to die in about five minutes. Just like you will if you don’t leave right now.” 

Rama hums, right hand shifting down to her thigh, where her gun is strapped. Sita’s eyes widen as though the fabric he seems to be easing the gun out and up to where the fabric wraps around her waist. Left hand still caressing her cheek as the right holds the gun in place against her stomach, he leans in to gently kiss Sita’s forehead. 

“All three of us are going to live tonight,” he says, so confident that it seems as if it would be absurd for Sita to think anything else as if even three against 10 the odds are stacked firmly in their favor. “Hold this for me?” 

Sita’s hand shifts down to the gun still hidden in the fabric as Rama steps away and turns, his hands now busy divesting himself of his tuxedo jacket and the bowtie Sita had so painstakingly learned how to tie for him earlier. 

“Now,” he says casually, as everyone watches him worry at his cufflinks, dropping them in the pile now at Sita’s feet, later followed by his wedding ring. “Unfortunately for you all this means that you will not be surviving this encounter. Do you have any last words?” 

The leader laughs. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Rama’s left-hand reaches out behind him. Sita, as if in a trance, dutifully fishes out the gun and places it in his hand before realizing that she has something she needs to say before it's too late. His own confidence gives her some of her own, but still how could he possibly win? How will they possibly survive -- and if, against all odds they do, what on earth is she going to say? So: “I love you,” she blurts out, smiling slightly when Rama’s head twists to look at her, incredulous, but before he can respond the first bullet fires and he explodes into action. 

For the first two minutes, the fight is 10 against 1 and still, Rama makes it look like child play. Weaving in and out, every shot he fires taking down at least one if not more of the men against him. At some point, he grabs another gun and tosses it in Sita’s direction, whose entrance into the melee serves to turn the tide even further. At least she’s always been a good shot, she thinks to herself, taking a man out even when her head rings with what she knows her husband accurately diagnosed as the beginning of a concussion. Part of her can’t do anything but watch as her studious, gentle husband breaks someone’s nose before shooting them through the heart. 

Within five minutes, it’s over. Just like Rama said, all ten men are dead at their feet. The gun drops out of his hand, slippery now with other people’s blood. Sita’s kill count is 2. He’s just killed eight men. 

“I...” Sita starts, realizing she doesn’t know what to say. She swallows, looking at the carnage around her and tries again to reconcile the sight with Rama’s soft sweaters, old fashioned glasses, and aversion of horror films. “How?” 

Rama purses his lips. “Same as you,” he says, wiping his hands on his pants with a grimace. “Mother Kaikeyi trained me, and while I was in India I was sent on assignment.” 

Sita pauses. “You’re a spy?” Even as she says it, she knows that she’s in no position to speak with such scandal in her voice -- yet, she thinks, she had thought she knew him, that he had trusted her. 

Rama laughs as he never has: short, hollow, bitter. “No,” he says, “not anymore. And even when I was, I was more of a hitman than anything else. I quit and moved away, and I assume that’s why Mother Kaikeyi sent someone to make sure I didn’t step too far out of line as a rogue element.” 

Somehow, Sita thinks, this is worse than she imagined. “No,” she says, rushing forward, hands wringing as if he’s looking again at her first credit card bill. “I asked at the beginning. It was never about you.” 

Rama is silent for a moment that seems to stretch endlessly as the adrenaline wears off for Sita, and her aches start to make themselves known. Her face throbs, her head spins, and there’s something in the vicinity of her ribs that twinges while she stands still -- not broken, she doesn’t think, but maybe bruised? Rama’s hands, almost as if it were against his mind’s will, come to stop her hands and tangle his fingers in his own as they do nothing but stare into the darkness over the other’s shoulder. “I’m glad that that’s what you were told,” he says eventually, and Sita suddenly realizes that there is an entire lifetime’s worth of complication she hadn’t known existed. 

“I wasn’t told anything,” she says, sure now that Dasaratha knows at least part of Kaikeyi’s truth, because why else would Kaikeyi have made sure that Sita walked into her relationship as transparent as possible. “Everything we shared was real.” She pauses, uncertain. “At least from my end.” 

Rama’s hands are like vices, clutching Sita’s fingers so hard it feels like he’s cut her circulation. “From mine as well. So when you just said--” 

“Yes,” Sita says, unable to say now what fear of imminent death had so successfully inspired. “Before, I was afraid of you finding out about me, but yes of course.” 

Rama exhales. “I’d hoped that’s what was stopping you, but I was never entirely sure that you really were one of Mother Kaikeyi’s recruits,” he smiles with a hint of self-deprecation. “You’re a good actor, you know.” 

“No,” Sita says, bringing her hands up to cup his face, finally deciding to be brave. “I’m really not.” She leans in. 

Their first kiss is gentle, tastes just slightly like blood, and ends quickly when Sita’s lip is irritated and makes itself known. It’s perfect. 

“I love you,” Rama breathes into the sliver of space when they part, one hand drifting to hold her at the waist, another rubbing small circles into the nape of her neck. Sita’s head spins, and not only from the concussion. 

“Hey,” she hears from somewhere behind. “I’m glad you two seem to have made up...and also .... that we’re all alive. But can we go now?” 

Sita laughs, and then immediately regrets doing so. “Yes,” she says as Rama holds her still, “let's go.” 

[skittles1229]

Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They  knew me better then i know myself. 

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time. 

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't.  Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald. 

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly  as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

          He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing  out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters. 

     i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet  trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me  hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

     ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night. 

     i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy  cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way. 

     before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

[viohra]

Koiđu-zin

[ˈkoj.ðuˌz̪ɪn̪]

Seen as both saint and monster and commonly referred to as just “Koiđu”, he was arguably the most important person of all Viishy history.

Koiđu was born on Earth somewhere near modern day Estonia more than 10.000 years ago. Moments after birth, his magic unleased a fire that consumed his tribe, killing everyone. Another tribe that saw the fireball went to investigate and found the child unscathed in the snow among the charred remains of his people. They took the child in and he was adopted by a couple who had just lost their child weeks prior. He was given the name Koiđu, which in their language meant birch tree.

As a young boy Koiđu learned to hunt and fish and fight. People noticed that despite his young age he was as strong as an adult and as fast as one too. Koiđu was also adept at finding game to hunt almost instinctively.

As years passed, he became an important member of the village and at age 17 was made chief of the tribe after the previous chief died from disease. Koiđu even made a wife from a neighbouring tribe and they were about to have a child.

A few months after being chief, the neighbouring tribe that his wife was from snuck into their encampment and started killing Koiđu’s people. Koiđu’s wife cut his throat in his sleep. Koiđu awoke choking on his blood. Noticing her husband was still very much alive, Koiđu’s wife started stabbing him until he stopped moving, she then left the tent and rejoined her tribe as they were finishing off the rest of Koiđu’s tribe. Koiđu woke up almost immediately with his wounds healing before his eyes, Koiđu left their tent to find carnage and his tribe fighting against his wife’s tribe. Koiđu watched as his wife killed his best friend and in a fit of rage, Koiđu unwittingly let out a wave of energy that ripped apart everything around himself on a molecular scale. Koiđu stood alone in a crater of dust knowing everyone he ever knew and loved was dead: his tribe, his wife (despite her betrayal), and their unborn child.

The next decade Koiđu walked alone eastward, the entire time he met with different people and lived with and helped them in any way he could. He learned many languages, which came as easily to him as water to a stream, and their cultures. He practised his powers and discovered he could do anything he could think of except travel in time to save his village. Once he met the ocean, Koiđu walked into it and travelled under the water for another year, learning and strengthening is abilities against the crushing weight of the water, creating air to breathe, warming his body, etc. He made it to another land with strange peoples. He lived in this warm, perpetually sunny land for 3 decades before again moving eastward again. By his late twenties he had stopped ageing, but he was far into his sixties by the time he left what will later be called California. He crossed North America in 5 years, taking his time to meet the various people through the land as he did prior in his youth.

Once he met the sea he decided to see fly above it and see as birds see, this time it only took him 3 days to reach the new land. And as before he took years the travels, meet people, and learn, but now he travelled by air. He circled the planet a few times, discovering that it wasn't endless like he previously believed. Before he knew it, hundreds of years had passed. He knew hundreds of languages and was able to think of any location and be there in that immediate instant.

He turned his eyes to the stars and set out on a 2000 year journey where he finalised his abilities with the single greatest magical achievement being his terraforming of a large Earth-like planet (3 times the size) to support life. He hollowed the planet and put in structural supports so that it was stable yet had the same gravity as Earth. He brought in flora and fauna and increased the the passage of time around the planet so that the life could spread to every inch. Finally he made the spin of the planet and its orbit align so that time can be accurately kept. When he was done, he settled on a temperate island continent (which will later be called Elensia) since the region reminded him of his 30 year stay in the New World.

For the next few hundred years, Koiđu would visit Earth and build portals to his planet, which he named Wudžemaħ (New Land). He kept time faster on Wudžemaħ because he could spend thousands of years on the planet yet return to an Earth he could recognise, which was not the case the last time he left for two thousand years. At some point he heard legends of powerful people like him, so he travelled to what will later be called the Balkans. It is there he found entire villages of people like him, albeit far weaker. He discovered that somehow he was somehow (re: genetically) related to them, so he told them of a realm they could live and practice their abilities without fearing retribution from other peoples who them as monsters.

For the next few hundred years, Koiđu searched the earth for people like him and planted them onto Wudžemaħ. Then he started noticing magic attacks on human settlements as realised his mistake— he left portals to earth open on Wudžemaħ and the people like him were exploiting peoples on earth. Angered by this, Koiđu drew up the first spell in history and in 4119 BC he activated the spell which send out a blinding light which removed all present people like him and sent them back to Wudžemaħ. He then destroyed all portals and returned to his planet. He forgot he left time sped up so he returned to a planet covered in war thousands of years a bead of his time. He returned the time to a normal speed and set out to fix his mistake. In the city-state of Elensia located on the same landmass he first settled on were a people called the Vyykai (who called Wudžemaħ “Õri‘a”, meaning Fertile Soil). Koiđu found a school there run by a woman named Letha who taught people how to control their abilities. She was one of the strongest people he ever met besides himself, and he traded ideas with her.

Their alliance and magic studies led to the creation of the first magic language (later reformed into Imperial Magic) and the curse which stops children from using magic for twenty years to prevent unnecessary death.

Finally Koiđu thought to better the relationships of the different peoples of Wudžemaħ (now called many different names) by performing a spell that erased their memories of life on Earth and of their languages and replaced their language with that of the Vyykai. This sparked a war with people on one side believing what he did was right fighting against those who thought it was unjust, that he destroyed all their cultures simply for conformity and uniformity, with Letha taking role as their general.

After hundreds of years of war which Koiđu never once participated in, the sides took their places in the world with Koiđu’s supporters living on the continent he first settled many many year prior (now called Elensia after the founding city).

Letha now lived on an island in the southern ocean with a people who will later be called the Vashi. Her group protected information and were attempting to find a way to reverse the damage done by Koiđu. Koiđu visited her and convinced her he wasn't here to fight, but help. He recounted to her the things he saw and did, and his reasonings. These were all recorded and preserved by her order. The only thing he omitted was the location to Earth and he also told her his removal of their language and memories was irreversible. His last act was to use his magic to destroy every atom in his body and finally die after living over 9000 years (4000 or so from Earth's perspective).

The Vyykai would later become ethnically different from one another and call each other different names in the different tongues derived from the Vyykai language. The word to describe the peoples of this world Vyyši (Viishy) comes from this term.

Koiđu is seen as a hated figure for most Viishy cultures, however the Zehzhics see him as a saint and/or demigod. After his death he was awarded the honourific of -zin because he embodied the titan of chaos, change, and death.

[cultofbeatles]

hello reece i am the teach me led zep pls anon yes hi hello hehe idk what i wanna know mabye like ur fave song from each album and basic facts about each member ??? dont be afraid to ramble btw im taking all the info i can get !!!1!1!!! thank u sm ily 🥺

annie i have three words for you... i got you. i already told you this, but i am working on a “beginners guide to led zeppelin.” i planned on it being more giggles mainly, but i'm going back and adding a decent amount of information just for you

fun facts about led zeppelin and the beatles: led zeppelin were the band that beat the beatles record held for most attendance at a concert (55,000 people). on may 5, 1973 (and with no opening act) led zeppelin beat that record by having an attendance of 56,800 people. also! for the beatles movie ‘a hard days night’ jimmy page did the instrumental version of this boy that plays while ringo is wandering around. pretty rad. oh, and george harrison went to a led zeppelin party once and was thrown into a pool by john bonham. 

i gotta say this before i begin though, led zeppelin is one of those bands where hardly anything gets confirmed or denied. at least nothing “controversial” or anything more than basic gets an answer to it. so sometimes you gotta take things with a grain of salt, and you gotta just have the mindset of “well this might not be true so I'm not gonna claim it as so.” with that being said i'll start with getting you into led zeppelin. 

through the span of their short career led zeppelin had eight studio albums. 

led zeppelin (january 1969)

led zeppelin ll (october 1969)

led zeppelin lll (october 1970)

led zeppelin lV (november 1971) this album technically doesn't have a name but we all call it ‘led zeppelin lV since it was the fourth album

houses of the holy (march 1973)

physical graffiti (February 1975)

presence (march 1976)

in through the out door (august 1979) 

they also have a few live albums and compilation albums as well. but when people talk about led zeppelin albums they're mainly referring to these ones. i like all of their albums. i think they're all good. my personal favorites are the second and fourth albums. i do think that led zeppelins music isn't for everyone though. they're not as clean as some other bands are. I will list my favorite songs from each album. 

led zeppelin: good times bad times, dazed and confused, babe i'm gonna leave you, communication breakdown, how many more times, i can't quit you baby 

led zeppelin ll: whole lotta love, the lemon song, thank you, heartbreaker, moby dick, ramble on

led zeppelin ll: immigrant song, since i've been loving you, tangerine, that’s the way 

led zeppelin lV: black dog, rock and roll, stairway to heaven, misty mountain hop, going to california, when the levee breaks, the battle of evermore

houses of the holy: the song remains the same, the rain song, over the hills and far away, the ocean, no quarter, dancing days

physical graffiti: the rover, houses of the holy, kashmir, ten years gone, trampled under foot

presence: for your life, achilles last stand 

in through the out door: fool in the rain, all my love 

i think all of these are good starter songs for someone just now getting into led zeppelin. i hope you like them! they have one movie, the song remains the same, and it’s weird but also good. it’s basically concert footage of their madison square garden show but there’s also cuts of little skits they made? idk how to describe it lol.

in my beginners guide post i'll write more about the members and go into more details and funny facts about them. right now i'll just briefly introduce you to them. to talk about led zeppelin you have to start with the yardbirds. jimmy page (zeppelin’s guitarist) was in the yardbirds until they broke up in 1968 and then jimmy started looking for his “super group.” him and Peter grant (zeppelin’s manager) started looking for the best of the best people. in 1968 led zeppelin was formed. 

jimmy page is known as one of the best guitar players in rock history. he’s usually always in the top three listings. he was a session guitarist for a while and would fill in on people’s records. on Joe cocker’s version of ‘with a little help from my friends’ jimmy is playing the guitar on it. and he joined the yardbirds with eric clapton and jeff beck who are also listed as the best guitarists. he was a soft spoken, quiet dude. he seemed very shy and introverted. but then you read groupie stories about how he had whips, handcuffs, and razors. he was also given a lot of shit for studying crowley’s work, and was known for his “witchcraft ways.” he struggled with addiction (heroin and cocaine) and pulled himself through in the end. but he was, and still is, an amazing guitar player. he also produced all of zeppelin’s albums. so he’s an amazing producer as well. he got a lot of unnecessary hate and criticism back in the day (still does). and you can thank jimmy for all the newish led zeppelin stuff we get bc that’s all on him more than likely. 

john paul jones is known as one of the best bassists in rock history. he was not only zeppelin’s bassist but also keyboardist. and he can play recorder as well. like jimmy, he was also a session musician. jimmy and jones knew of each other  and when jones heard about jimmy putting a group together he called him. he was more of the serious member in a way. jimmy, bonham, and robert were more wild and would cause chaos. john paul jones would deadass book a room at another hotel and not tell anyone where he was. he just wasn't into that kind of thing. so I don't think he was really all that close to the other members. he felt left out a lot. him and john bonham were an amazing rhythm section. the best in history. they knew exactly what to do to stay in sync. he was also the one to find john bonham when he died. so that’s sad. 

robert plant is known as one of the best vocalists in rock history. his voice is *chef kiss.* i love him. he wasn't jimmy’s first pick in a singer. in fact, jimmy’s first pick was the one who recommended robert to jimmy and also said that he looked like “a greek god.” robert plant is just about the most attractive man ever. jimmy liked roberts voice a lot but doubted his songwriting skills so was weary of him at first. robert had never written songs until joining led zeppelin. robert was the reason john bonham joined the group. him and bonham were best friends before the group even formed and remained that way until bonham’s death. robert also went through a lot of shit during led zeppelin’s timeline and honestly i'm so proud of him for getting through all of it. right now robert likes to act like he was never in led zeppelin though lmao. 

john bonham is known as one of the best drummers in rock history. i’m not even kidding. his power behind the drums is mind-blowing. when he was approached by jimmy about the band he denied the offer. and continued to deny the offer bc he had a family to take care of, and didn't know how well this band would be. but it was robert plant who convinced him to join so they could play together. he loved his family very much (a wife and son who name is jason). he hated being away from them. he was known as the sweetest man ever unless he was drunk. the problem was that he was always drunk. he had a drinking problem. he did a lot of stupid shit when drunk. he died in 1980 after he had the equivalent of 40 shots of vodka and threw up in his sleep causing himself to choke. after he died, led zeppelin died as well. 

after john’s death the band called it quits. they all like to say it’s because no other drummer would be able to compare to bonham. robert says that he loved john bonham too much and couldn't force himself to go out there and do a show without him as the drummer. robert plant is likely the reason we’ll never get another zeppelin reunion show. there were three reunion shows in the past. the first reunion was their live aid show which fucking sucks. john paul jones wasn't even informed about the event and ended up on keyboard instead of bass, jimmy was likely on drugs bc of how out of it he was, robert’s voice is awful, and the drummers hardly knew the material. it was a rushed show but it was for charity and i'm sure they made a lot of money. the last show being the celebration day reunion in 2007 where jason bonham (john’s son) played the drums. it’s a really really good show and i cry every time i watch it. you can watch the whole thing on youtube. still to this day it’s evident that jimmy, Jason, and jones would love to do a reunion show again. 

led zeppelin is one of the few groups that can say all of their members were just about the best at what they did. each member will always be in the top ten rankings for lists of the best artists/musicians. that’s really impressive. they were really, really good together. I hope this was a good starter post! 

[hellimagines]

18 Months (Part Three) -- Michael Langdon

Masterlist

Summary: After Michael passes the Seven Wonders, you return to Miss. Robichaux’s, and your friendship with one another grows over the phone.

Warnings: Hella flirting

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,600+

A/N: I’ma be honest with you guys; I don’t remember much of Coven, and I haven’t had any time to rewatch it, so if I’ve gotten anything wrong, please let me know and I’ll gladly fix it! Also, I wish I could insert emojis in GD bc of texts. Instead, I had to use cringey aesterics. Circa 2012 culture guys. Also 2.0, I tried to write Michael’s character as well as I could, but I’m sorry if he seems a little ooc.

18 Months Masterlist

You stood in the Hawthorne library, staring up at the walls of books in fascination. You were sure that there were plenty of books similar to the ones at Miss. Robichaux’s, but you also knew there had to be plenty of different ones; ones you’d never even heard of. Your fingers itched to pull them from their shelves and start flipping through them, to see if there was any new magic or knowledge you could discover- but, you knew better. These books weren’t yours, and the warlocks didn’t see you as a guest, so you had no right to start taking things from their rightful places. The door of the library hesitantly creaked up, and you paused your ogling to see who had come in.

“Michael?” you hummed, fully turning to face him once the blond had entered the room. You had briefly seen Michael when your coven had gotten to the school earlier that morning before he was being rushed off for some last-minute preparations for his test tomorrow.

“Hello,” he greeted, shutting the door and walking over to you. “I didn’t have the opportunity to say hello to you earlier, so I thought I’d do it now.”

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you grinned, looking back up at the books once he had come to a stop at your side.

“The same way you knew I’d be at the fire pit.”

“A guess.” The two of you spoke at the same time. You nodded in understanding and allowed the silence of the room to close off the conversation. You both just stood there for a while, staring up at that one particular wall of books. There wasn’t anything obviously special about it, simply the bindings of roughly a hundred books looking down at you, in all sizes and colors. The books didn’t even seem to be organized in any certain way either- the last names of the authors weren’t alphabetical, and neither were the titles. Hell, it wasn’t even color coded. After a while, you started trying to figure out if there was some sort of pattern you weren’t seeing.

“You’re staring at the books like they killed your grandmother,” Michael spoke after a while. You looked up at him and shook your head with a frown.

“They’re not organized…” you said softly, glaring up at the books once more. Michael snorted in disbelief, turning his body slightly so he could cross his arms at you.

“You’re mad at the books because they’re not organized?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah,” you scoffed, crossing your own arms and staring up at him. “How do you boys even find anything?”

“This little, precious thing called magic,” Michael mocked, waving his hand in the air. In an instant, he held a large, black, hardcover book in his hands.

“House of Leaves?” you questioned, instantly recognizing the cover. “Oh, and your smartass comment? Real cute, Langdon.”

Michael snickered and flipped the book over to show off the cover and reveal the title. “Have you read it before?”

“Yeah, it’s interesting. Took a while because I really wanted to understand the story and the house, but it was good. Why’d you choose it?” you asked, reaching out and grabbing it from his hands.

“I used to read it as a child. It… reminded me of home, you could say,” he smirked. You nodded and left the conversation at that. “So, if you guys need a book, you just wave your hand?”

“Yeah. Are you telling me you don’t?”

“No, we use our hands. You can’t rely on magic for everything, that’s what my mother says. Besides, if you get too used to it, you’ll slip up in public. Probably get burned alive,” you shrugged, watching as Michael rolled his eyes.

“Now, isn’t that a lovely thought,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But this isn’t public, now is it? We are underground, in a library, with just the two of us. If yo-”

“The way you talk makes me think you’re trying to hook up.” Your interruption stopped Michael abruptly, causing him to nearly choke on his words. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape while trying to come up with a response. You grinned wickedly at your ability to shut Michael Langdon up, waiting until he took a ragged breath.

“Having sex in a dusty library isn’t on my bucket list, darling,” Michael drawled, taking a dangerous step forward.

“That’s a shame,” you shrugged, slamming the book you were holding into his chest. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the Seven Wonders?” you asked, veering the conversation completely off topic, as you walked over to the nearby couch.

“I’ve been getting ready for two weeks. I feel as though I’m fairly prepared,” Michael replied walking over to you. “Shouldn’t you be with your witches?”

“No, they’re all asleep. I wanted to find a book to read to help me sleep, but I didn’t expect to be greeted by an unorganized library,” you sighed, pulling your knees to your chest and tucking yourself into the corner of the couch.

“Are you ever going to drop that?”

“No. Not until you lot organize this place.”

“Why don’t you organize it for us?”

“Because I’m not your fucking maid, Michael,” you snapped, causing Michael to laugh at your anger. Michael sat himself on the other end of the couch, stretching his legs out and draping his arm over the back.

He tossed the book you had shoved at him back to you, and you caught it with a raised eyebrow. “Your reading material for tonight. Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep.”

“Honestly, this entire conversation has put me in a sleepy mood,” you said but held the book in your lap regardless.

“Oh, that so? Am I not intellectually stimulating?” Michael questioned.

“No, you’re not. I doubt you’re stimulating in any department, truthfully. Maybe after you pass the test tomorrow you’ll be a bit more interesting,” you grinned, noticing the way Michael’s lips twitched.

“Are you questioning my ability to please a person in bed?” Michael gasped in mock-offense.

“Yes, darling, I am,” you laughed.

“So what you’re saying, is that when I pass the test tomorrow,” Michael began slowly, moving so he was beside you on the couch, “I’ll be better able to make someone’s legs shake when they’re beneath me?”

Your breath hitched, but you kept your expression neutral. “Depends on how well of a reigning Supreme you become,” you whispered, trying your hardest to keep your gaze focused on Michael’s blue eyes rather than his lips.

Michael hummed gently and reached over, pushing a piece of (h/c) hair out of your face. “Well, I’ll be the Alpha, love, not the Supreme. So when I do win the test tomorrow, I suppose the two of us will just have to find out how interesting I really am, hm?” Michael practically purred.

“In your dreams, handsome,” you scoffed, despite the raging blush on your cheeks. “It’ll take a lot more than a title to get you in bed with me.”

“So you’re saying it is possible then?” Michael grinned, tilting his head. His knees were pressed against yours and his arm was resting behind your shoulders, on the couch.

“It could be, but who knows. We’ll just have to wait and see. Besides, I never said you were my type,” you smirked, placing your hand on his knee, before roughly pushing down and lifting yourself off of the couch. Michael hissed and stood up as well, following you.

“Leaving the conversation so soon? It was just getting interesting,” Michael complained, gently grabbing ahold of your wrist to keep you from leaving. Where he touched, blossomed with cold, and it felt nice with the crackling of the library fire so close. You turned and held up the book in your hands.

“Reading material, remember? Besides, wouldn’t want you to fail your test tomorrow. Wouldn’t be very interesting of you, now would it?” you pouted. Michael tugged on your wrist, and with a roll of your eyes, you let him pull you close.

“I won’t forget this conversation, fox. And when I pass, I’ll show you just how interesting I can be.”

“Hm, I sure you’d love to do that. But like I said, you’re gonna need to work extra hard to get me in your grasp. So, don’t count on it,” you tsked.

“Looks like I already have you in my grasp,” Michael countered, moving his hand to rest on your waist. You grinned and shook your head at his persistence.

“Yes, but not as tightly as I know you want me to be. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a book to read,” you stated, and spun out of his hold. You waved at Michael over your shoulder, before disappearing through the library door, allowing it to slam shut behind you.

That night, though only two nights ago, seemed so far in the past. Now, standing in the foyer of Miss. Robichaux’s Academy, you found yourself clutching the book Michael had given you, House of Leaves, in one hand, and your duffle bag in the other. You had just gotten back from Hawthorne, and you were saddened to find out that Madison had stayed behind in California to connect with some old Hollywood socialites, to get her name back in the media. You had just gotten Madison back, a mere two weeks ago, and she was gone already for who knows how long. You understood her reasoning, but you still felt saddened, and alone. Zoe had Queenie now, and your mother and Myrtle were doting all over Misty, which left you to your own devices. Nodding to yourself, you hiked your bag higher on your shoulder and made your way up to your room, passing a few new students on the way.

It was weird seeing the academy so full. You were used to three or four girls, maybe five; but never over a dozen. Ever since your mother’s tour, young girls had been ringing the phone left and right, believing they were witches. Some were right, they indeed had gifted abilities and needed help. But others just knew how to tie a string to a lamp and tug on it. It had gotten exhausting weeding them all out through the years, but it was worth it to help the true witches, and to see the smile on your mother’s face each time the doors opened for someone new. And now that Michael had passed the test, and was the new Supreme, things were going to change. Which meant the more girls walking through that door, the better. Even if you had to dodge random flying objects at any point in time, or clean up a magical mess that had happened, or help assist with a traumatized girl who still couldn’t control her powers, or weren’t able to eat a meal because all the food had been snatched up, it was worth it. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Once you got to your room, you tossed your bag onto your bed and collapsed beside it. Your body felt unnaturally hot, like you had gone skinning dipping in a volcano. You didn’t know why, because the thermostat downstairs read 64° and everybody else seemed fine. But you were just so fucking hot. With a heavy sigh, you flicked your wrist and summoned a fresh pair of clothes. Normally you wouldn’t have done that, you took your mother’s words seriously, but you didn’t want to move, and like Michael had said, it’s not like you were in public. You stood up, kicked off your shoes, and grabbed your phone before heading towards your bathroom. An ice cold shower should help do the trick.

Once you had stripped and were moments away before you were about to enter the shower, your phone dinged. Your heart stuttered, and your hand shook as you quickly lifted it from the counter.

Supreme Crunchwrap- ‘How’s Cordelia’

‘She’s okay. With Misty and Myrtle downstairs, I think giving the title away is what hurt her the most’

‘Most likely. You doing better than yesterday?’

‘Oh, is the supreme showing interest in little ole me and my feelings?? *eye roll emoji*’

‘We’ve talked about this Foxx. I’m the Alpha not the Supreme’

*Supreme Crunchwrap’s name has been changed to Alpha Schmalpha*

‘Stop calling me Foxx and we have a deal *double eye emoji*’

‘Now why would I do a thing like that? You’re a fox and you know it’

‘u trippin supreme’

‘Whatever you say, Goode.’

‘Wasn’t so hard, now was it?’

‘My thumbs burn.’

‘Oof, I’m getting the periods. Is the alpha all grumpy now? *deep frown emoji*’

‘Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?’

‘You gonna stop using periods?’

‘I suppose so’

‘hell yeah’

Once you had sent your final text, you realized that you had been standing there for roughly ten minutes. You hurriedly tossed your phone to the side, disregarding any new texts, before jumping into the shower. Your scorching body temperature had been forgotten while you were texting Michael, almost as if you weren’t even hot, but the second the cold water hit your skin, you were moaning out loud. You were positive steam had to be coming off of your skin at the contrast in temperature, but you had your eyes squeezed shut, simply enjoying the cold water. If you were being honest with yourself, which you usually weren’t, you did miss Michael. The two of you had shared a couple, few-minute moments together, but to you, they felt like hundreds of hours.

Sometimes, when you were upset, Michael would text or call you, like he knew something was wrong, and tell you the most random thing known to man. Like asking about your mother, when your skin was burning you alive. Or texting you about how in Switzerland, it’s illegal to only own one guinea pig, while you had been on the plane, pouting about Madison being gone and staring at Queenie and Zoe gossiping in the corner. That one had made you laugh out loud. Or that time a week or so ago, when you and Mallory had gone at it again, resulting in bruises and harsh words. Michael had called you only seconds after you had stormed to your room and slammed the door shut. When you answered the phone, you had obviously yelled at him, but after talking with you a minute or so, he had managed to help calm you down and you were able to apologize. Michael just laughed over the phone, called you an idiot, and hung up the phone.

Things were weird like that, with Michael. But that was okay because you were a witch, and he was a warlock, and things were just weird sometimes.

A few days passed, and you were outside with Queenie, Zoe, Mallory, and a few of the other new students. Cordelia and Misty stood by a tree, demonstrating a preservation technique. Since Misty had returned, your mother had been sure to bring her outside as much as possible and introduce her into nature lessons when the opportunity arose. Misty had been adjusting decently well, she still had nightmares and was unable to deal with anything to do with frogs, but being around the coven was doing her a whole world of good. However, nature classes were never really your forte. Your magic wasn’t nature centered, and you couldn’t do a whole lot with nature anyways, so you often just lingered behind the others, and half-heartedly paid attention. You had talked with your mother about it, so she understood when you zoned out or just flat-out didn’t show up, and you loved her for it. But, you wanted to be here to support Misty, even if there was nothing for you to do.

You had still been feeling hot lately, and it varied from scorching hot to a simple summer day in California. You still couldn't figure it out, but you weren’t about to go complaining to your mom or Myrtle just yet. Chances were, it was just a cold from those grimy boys and it would pass before you knew it. As of right now, your skin felt just as hot as it did when you had arrived back at the Coven. You were subconsciously scratching at your palm, where the heat seemed to resonate while staring up ahead with a glazed-out look. You couldn’t focus on Misty’s words, not with the ever-present heat engulfing your body, but you managed to stay upright, face void of any indication that you were in pain. But then, your phone buzzed in your back pocket, startling you out of your head, followed by Misty’s voice rushing back, at an intensity that made you visibly flinch. You pulled out your phone, and your lips twitched into a gentle smile. He always fucking knew.

Alpha Schmalpha: ‘We’re supposed to use sweat in love potions’

‘Tysm for this information. Are you making a love potion?’

‘Possibly. Don’t know yet’

‘You should. It might take too long for someone to actually fall in love with you’

‘?? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, per usual?’

‘No, I woke up in the bathroom’

‘Fun night?’

‘Nope, it was too fucking hot last night, and the bathroom floor is cold’

‘It’s October, how hot could Louisiana be?’

‘It’s not the state, it’s me’

‘Yes, we know you’re hot. But what’s the got to do with your body temp’

‘No you jackass. I’m physically burning up. Ever since we got back, I’ve been sweating like a mf. I’ll mail you some for your love potion’

‘You know why?’

‘Probably one of you gross ass boys’

‘Don’t talk to your Alpha like that’

‘Suck my ass’

‘Not my kind of thing. Have you told Cordelia?’

‘No she’s been busy. I’m not dying so I’m not worried about it. I just can’t sleep, eat, and everything I wear burns. Nbd’

After you had sent that text, a harsh elbow into your side caught your attention. You looked up, ready to give the newbie a piece of your mind when you saw it was Queenie. You glared and shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“What? No need to elbow me,” you huffed, rubbing your side.

Queenie rolled her eyes and motioned to your pocket. “Who you textin’?”

“None of your concern,” you said, crossing your arms. Queenie raised her eyebrows and turned to face you, crossing her own arms.

“You don’t talk to people outside the school. So, who is it?”

“Madison,” you shrugged, looking ahead.

“Bullshit, Madison hasn’t been answering her phone all fucking week.”

“Maybe not for you, but she has for me.”

“Then let me see. I wanna talk to her too,” Queenie said, holding out her hand. You frowned and turned to stare at you.

“No. My phone is my business, and who I’m texting is my business. I love you, Queenie, but fuck off,” you objected, before turning on your heel and storming back to the school.

“What was that about?” Queenie looked over and saw Zoe peering up at her, eyes switching from Queenie to your retreating form.

“Mini Supreme has a secret that she’s trying to keep. A secret someone, and we’re gonna get to the bottom of it,” Queenie explained, squinting against the sun as you disappeared inside the school.

“Oh, great. That’ll be a piece of cake,” Zoe muttered, rolling her eyes. But she didn’t object and turned back to the lesson at hand.

You made your way into the kitchen and towards the fridge, hell-bent on finding something cold that your stomach would abide by. You opened the freezer and shifted through a few things, until yet another buzzing in your pocket, this time more consistent, occurred. You reached back and pulled it out, noticing it was a phone call. You slid the answer button and held it up to your ear before continuing to search through the freezer.

“You need to eat”, Michael’s voice on the other end was like a soothing hum against your ear.

“I’m working on it, Doc,” you huffed, finally reaching for a cherry popsicle at the back of the freezer. You shut the door and leaned against it, unwrapping the popsicle with your teeth, before popping it into your mouth.

“Something of nutritional value,” Michael said as an afterthought, and you paused to stare down at the phone with an incredulous look.

“How do you know what I’m eating or not eating?”

“A guess.”

“You and your guesses can piss off, thank you very much,” you grumbled, moving to sit down at the island. You lazily popped the popsicle in and out of your mouth, sighing softly as the heat began to subside.

“Now, you don’t really want that, do you?” You could practically see the smug smirk on Michael’s face, and you couldn’t help the eye roll that overcame your body.

“It’d be rude to truthfully want my Alpha to piss off. So no, I don’t,” you admitted, staring out the window at the others.

“What the hell are you doing? It sounds obscene.”

“Nothing,” you said, grinning at the groan that came over the phone.

“What is it?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because I wanna know if I was right or not.”

“Guess the world may never know,” you sighed in a sing-song voice. But then, there was the familiar beeping on your phone, signaling a FaceTime call. “Michael you ass,” you complained but answered the call anyway. Michael was sat in the library, lounging on the couch with his hair tousled everywhere. You could see the occasional boy walk by, and you heard a few voices that told you it was more than just Michael in the library.

“A popsicle? Really?” Michael asked, rolling his eyes as you dramatically popped it out of your mouth.

“Yup. It’s cold, I’m hot, can I make it any more obvious?” you snickered.

“Did someone just make an Avril Lavigne reference?” A boy yelled out across the room, and Michael looked over the phone with a bored expression, at whoever had called out.

“It seems busy over there. I’m not disturbing the righteous Alpha, now am I?” you hummed, tapping the tip of the cherry popsicle against your lip.

“I was the one that called,” Michael reminded you.

“Oh, yeah. So really, the Alpha is bothering me,” you said, laughing loudly at Michael’s glare.

“But, I’m serious. You need something that won’t have you crashing in a few hours.”

“There’s nothing! If I eat something hot, I’m throwing it up within seconds. There’s no more bread or sandwich meat, so I’m fucked there. All we really have is ice cream and drinks,” you groaned, crossing your arms on the table, and placing your chin on them so you could pout at Michael through the screen. “Third world problems.”

“Go out and buy a sandwich or something from the store,” Michael said, and your head popped up at the idea.

“Oh, that’s a brilliant id-”

“(Y/N), who are you talking to?” you looked up at the newcomer and winced when you saw it was Mallory. You were quick to place your phone face-down on the counter, shrugging your shoulders. “Nobody you need to know about it.”

Mallory nodded and walked around you, towards the cabinet behind your head. You spun on your chair to face her, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why’d you leave the lesson?” she asked, pulling out something to eat, and turning to face you.

“‘Cause I could.”

“Nature is important. We could wake up one day, and it could all be gone. You should be more grateful for it, and start learning about it,” she chided.

“Nature isn’t my thing, you know. You’re fucking amazing with nature, but I’m not. My magic is mental-centered, and spending a few hours in the sun won’t change that,” you defended. Mallory shook her head and began to leave the kitchen.

“You won’t get very far as a witch, thinking like that. Try harder. You’re the Supreme’s daughter and granddaughter, you should have something to show for it.”

“I do, my mother. I don’t need any special powers to prove that I come from two generations of Supreme’s. My powers are strong on their own, I don’t need to add yours to it. So do me a favor, and get the hell out.”

“With Cordelia dying, it would do her a whole lot of good to know she’s resting her fate in the right hands. But, to one's own I suppose,” Mallory shrugged. Without thinking, you grabbed the apple in the fruit basket at your side and chucked it at her. Mallory yelped as the fruit exploded beside her head, apple fragments flying into her hair and on the floor.

“My mom will not die. She is not resting her fate in my hands, because in case you’ve forgotten, the new Supreme has already been appointed. Michael can save Cordelia if either of them pleases, and if what my mother is saying about the world is correct, there are much bigger problems at hand, than my ability to turn a fucking rose blue,” you growled, each word coming out harder and angrier than the rest. The heat had picked up, sweat now beading down your forehead and neck as you stared straight at Mallory. Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing more as she briskly left the room.

Once you were certain Mallory was gone, you let out a loud cry of frustration and tugged at your hair with your free hand. Your popsicle had been long forgotten and had melted down your other hand. You tossed it into the trashcan at your side and wiped off your hand with a paper towel, before picking your phone back up. Michael could see the evident anger in your eyes once you had appeared on the screen, and the library he was in seemed vacant now.

“Who was that?” Michael questioned, once you had opened your (e/c) eyes to look at him.

“Another witch. She means well, I know she does, it’s just… we’re too similar, and we don’t get along. I know she just wants my mom alive and well, and she thinks that because the Supremacy was passed from my grandma Fiona to my mom, that I’ll get it. But it’s not genetic, and it’s already been passed to you. It’s just stressful, ‘m sorry you had to hear that,” you sighed, and began leaving the kitchen, phone held up so Michale could still see you.

“I don’t mind. But she needs to stay out of your business,” Michael said simply. You muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ as you walked up the stairs, passing the occasional student who side-eyed your phone. Once you had safely gotten to your room, you locked the door and tossed your phone onto your bed. “Nice ceiling.”

“I need to change,” you said, stripping off your shirt so you were just in a tank top. You pulled on a pair of pajama shorts as well, before climbing back onto your bed. You laid down on your side and picked your phone back up, holding it in front of you. “Thanks for calling,” you said quietly after a couple of minutes of the two of you just staring at one another. “You always know when something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s hard to explain, but I can usually tell when you’re upset. I’ve got nothing else to do, and you’re not boring to talk with,” Michael explained, his typical smirk replaced with a soft smile- one you hadn’t really seen before.

“Try to explain it,” you urged, biting the inside of your lip. Michael hummed softly and moved himself down the couch, until his head was resting on the armrest.

“Whenever something is wrong, I get this cold feeling on the inside of my palm- almost like I’ve touched liquid nitrogen. I can’t move my hand, at all, not until I’ve texted you or called you. It went away when I texted you after you had left, that’s when I first started figuring it out. I’d gotten the feeling before, once or twice after meeting you, but I texted you that time because I wanted you to see if the same was happening to Cordelia, because at first I thought it was a Supreme thing. But as soon as your name popped into my head, I could move my hand again. So then I texted you, and the feeling slowly started going away. That’s when I figured out that whatever the feeling was, had to do with you,” Michael said, running his thumb over his bottom lip as he spoke. It all seemed so surreal to you, that Michael had this intimate connection with your wellbeing, only days after knowing one another. You could hardly believe it, it seemed like something out of a dark Disney movie.

“Did you say the inside of your palm?” you asked, focusing in on part of what he had said. Michael nodded, and you looked down at your own palm, the one that had been the center of the burning sensation. “Does the cold spread throughout your whole body? Like you’re in the middle of a snowstorm or something?” you inquired, looking up from your hand.

“Sometimes, but not often. When it does, is when I usually call you,” Michael said, and you nodded once more.

“The heat… it does the same thing. It’s hottest at my palm, and then it just spreads everywhere. Sometimes it feels like I’m drenched in lava, sometimes it feels like I’m in California in the middle of summer. It all just varies throughout the day. Like right now? Right now it’s like I’m in California. But earlier, when you had texted me about the potion, I felt like I was being burned alive.”

“That’s more than a simple cold, love. You’re smart enough to realize that,” Michael sighed, tossing his arm behind his head. You bit your cheek and sighed, staring at his arm.

“Yeah, I do know that. But I don’t know what it is, so saying it’s a cold is better than saying ‘I don’t know’,” you pouted, running one of your hands down your face.

“It’s connected to the two of us somehow. You get burning hot, and I get freezing cold. Somehow, our bodies know when something is wrong with the other, and they’re trying to tell us,” Michael deducted, and you groaned loudly.

“That doesn’t make any sense though. Why us? Why the two of us? It all starts with our palms, where we shook hands. Did… did you feel anything when that happened?” you suddenly asked. You had been staring at his arm the whole time you were talking, but at remembering what happened when you shook hands with Michael, your eyes snapped back to his.

“Yes. My hand got hot, and it went into my chest. I thought it was just the fire, but by your reaction, I’m guessing it wasn’t,” Michael confessed, wearily looking at you.

“That happened to me, except for me, it was cold. The second I touched your hand, the feeling went up my arm, and into my chest, too. And before that, I got this… this fuzzy feeling in my head. Like a swarm of bees, made out of cotton, were inside of my brain, and they were all trying to tell me something at once. Like actual words, but I couldn’t tell what they were. And that happened when we all met up by the fire pit,” you confessed as well, sitting up in your bed as Michael sat up on the couch.

“Hm,” he hummed quietly, narrowing his eyes as he stared at you through the screen. “I’ll talk to A-”

“No! Michael, don’t. This stays between us, you got it? Ariel doesn’t find out and neither does Cordelia. This is a Michael and (Y/N) thing only, okay?” you said quickly. You didn’t want anyone prying into your business any more than they already had, and you and Michael both had too many things on your plate already. “We’ll figure this out together, but they don’t need to know about it. Promise me, that you won’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t think the Alpha should be having to make promises,” Michael huffed, leaning back against the couch.

“Michael please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this as the Alpha or whatever. Do this as my friend,” you pleaded, biting down on your lip in worry. Michael looked at you for a few moments before nodding.

“Yes, alright. Between the two of us. A friend thing,” he complied, and you sighed in relief.

“Fuck, thank you. You’re a lifesaver, Michael, I mean it.”

“No, I’m not. This is affecting the both of us. It’s hurting you more than it’s hurting me, obviously, and I want to help you. But if you don’t want anyone to know, than I won’t tell anyone. However, that means you’ve got to promise me something of your own.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“Whenever you start feeling overwhelmed, or too hot, or something is bothering you, you need to tell me. What you feel, I feel, and I need to know what’s going on with you,” Michael said, and you groaned loudly.

“You’re busy, you’ve got things to do! I can’t just text you at two in the morning like, ‘yeah, hey, I’m hot’. That’s not fair for you!” you objected.

“Yes, it is. No matter what time it is, you will tell me if something is the matter with you, no matter what the problem is. Do you understand?” Michael’s voice seemed to grow darker and more serious, the curious, boyish-softness all-but gone.

“Okay, okay, fine. I will. If something is wrong, I will text or call you. I promise,” you sighed, holding up your pinky finger mockingly. Michael grinned, and held up his own, tapping it against the screen.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Bite me, Supreme Jackass.”

Michael Langdon Taglist (OPEN): @omg-luv4lyfe-universe @hesvoid34 @winchesterbloodxxxx @justanotherdaydreamersoul @frozenhuntress67 @michaels-slut @buckynatlarry @sweetcredence @crybabycth @very-aesthetic-pineapple @rainbowxmisa @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @sherlokid7 @hexqueensupreme @kaliforniacoastalteens @madhatterweasley @skullchik89 @assgardiangoddess @booyouwhoreee @kerouacsroad @moonagecordelia @valentinevirgo @aliahemmings97 @becca-in-outer-space @supersoldierballerina @quione3 @hxdesworld @multi-madison @lanijoyxo @bookwormstrawberry @killcort @shado-cat

[williamcheart]

- ̗̀ * ( bill skarsgard + cismale + he/him ) have you seen ( william ‘colt’ heart ii ) walking around campus ? they are a ( twenty-four ) year old, studying ( business + literature ). we hear they are in ( omicron tau xi ), and can be ( composed & detached ), maybe it’s because they are an ( aquarius ). they sort of remind us of ( chicken scratch handwriting, trembling hands, a coach’s whistle ), maybe we can find out more ! * ̖́- + literary magazine

u were all wondering whomstve the bill skarsgard fc reserve was . . . . it was I and i have no mcfuckin’ regrets. we love. and stan. william colton heart the second

tw. cancer, death, substance abuse, car accident, mental illness.

gen info!

full name: william colton heart ii

nickname(s): will to his family, colton/just colt to p much everybody else. his full name is reserved for family and when he’s in troubule tbh

b.o.d. - feb. 19th he an aquarius bby

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: tall but taller than benjy tall like we’re talking a whopping 6′4″ jfc

hometown: beaufort, south carolina !!

sexuality: b...i...?

bio info!

born n raised in beaufort, south carolina--william is the eldest heart sibling

was a really quiet kid, tbh, like he minded his business and stuck close to the people he knew

always, always wanted to impress his parents, so he always studied hard for school and kind of put all his focus into it ??

it was a pressure for him, really, bc he’d always been told that he’s gonna inherit the family business like how his dad did, etc. etc.

and like...sweetie never wants to disappoint anyone, ever.

he was never considered a nerd tho?? like he’s always been freakishly tall, and his quietness sort of made him intimidating to be around b/c it always felt like he was judging u bc he’d always have to look down at u

has always been super protective over his younger siblings, feels as if it’s his duty to be the put-together brother

he’s never had to fight anybody tho, and like, thank god for that b/c he’s definitely not a fighter, considers himself to be a pacifist for the most part

bc like...he can just stare u down and ur like uuuh gtg bye !!1!111!!!

anyways, grew up riding horses, finds it v v peaceful but he stopped when they moved to california

but track has always been his kinda thing regardless of where he’s at, tried out for track his freshmen yr of high school n was the star of the team tbh

he met a gal going by the name dinah during a track meet the middle of his freshmen yr

she was taking photos for the yearbook and stuttered over her words more often than not, even when she teased william

and like...tbh? william adored her immediately

it really wasn’t soon at all until they started dating, like, they were the high school couple

they complimented each other v v well and were prolly always together lbr

i’m hc’ing that his family also adored dinah like it’s law

dinah is the one who like...really encouraged him to pursue writing as something more serious than just for fun, because will had always enjoyed writing--esp poetry--but he didn’t want it to get in the way of his future w the stables ??

and like...fuck, they were so cute, guys. they were so mf cute.

dinah got diagnosed w/ lung cancer in the beginning of their junior year; she began online school halfway thru b/c she didn’t have the energy physically to go to class, went thru a looot of chemo

william was with her the entire time, y’know, if he wasn’t in school or at track he’d probably be with her the most, trying to cheer her up in the ways he could, helped her study for their SATs bc he knew it was rly important to her

by the summer she was in remission and they thought that was it--still super fucking careful, but they really genuinely thought that that was the end of it y’know ?? that she’d just be better ??

they got into a few months of senior year with her being healthy enough to go to school again, but the further time passed...dinah relapsed, rapidly, and the cancer had spread to other parts of her body

they spent their last valentine’s day in the hospital, and the next day she was gone

it...crushed william, just kind of changed his life, y’know? dinah was all he knew and he really didn’t know how to live w/o her

spent a lot of his time locked away in his room or never even home to begin with, just wandering about hopelessly or sleeping, or trying to sleep that is

poured his heart into his poetry, though--in dinah’s honor, he tried so mf hard to keep doing what he loved even though he was so hurt

it was because of his constant hard work, and dinah’s past encouragements, that william entered and won a poetry contest during his senior year. got a hella scholarship that made everybody proud of him, just b/c he was ~defying odds~

kinda put on this mask so that others wouldn’t see how bad he was doing ?? b/c he’s the level-headed brother, y’kno, the one who always had his shit together and knew what he was doing

dinah and william won cutest couple and even prom king n queen as a sort of tribute to dinah but will didn’t even go to prom tbh he got drunk and threw cans of beer off of a cliff

anyways, he graduated high school n attended ucla bc that was his dad’s school and gdi he’s tryn his best to follow in his footsteps

even got into his dad’s frat b/c he was that determined

he didn’t rly partake much in parties but he did indulge every once in a while, y’know, just to do it, was finally getting his shit back together and doing well for once y’know?? he joined track n took it p seriously

when angela heart died, all of that fell apart again

he took an entire year off of school b/c at that point his mental health had taken a really bad turn, depression was sort of controlling his life and he was spiraling so mf far down that he sometimes couldn’t recognize himself

during that time he published his first and second poetry book under w.c. heart; it’s super morbid, depressing, you can pretty much feel his depression as it manifests in the pages. it begins with poetry from his earlier years, of when he was with dinah and then afterwards, when she dies

the second poetry book is about healing, and then how sometimes you can fall back even when you’re doing good (i.e. around the time lil baby angel died)

when he finally did go back to school he had a much better mindset, seemed to be doing well--was one of the best on the track team--partied a little harder, did drugs more often than usual but nothing too extreme y’know ??

his junior year he got into a p bad car accident n derailed into a body of water after crashing his side of the car into another and losing control of his vehicle

like honestly thank god for the stranger who immediately stopped their car and went totally-hero on the situation, they got william out of the car before he could drown and essentially saved his life, before calling 911 and just. disappearing as soon as the sirens were audible

somehow his left leg got mc’fucked in the incident and it just so happened to ruin his track career

also gave william a fear of swimming/deep water + driving. like. he never wants to be in control of a car again. it really added onto his anxiety and was probably the root of his panic disorder tbh

he took another year off of school to recover from his injuries and to just fucking...put himself in some therapy, because he knows. when it’s time to take care of himself. is really still determined to b the best, he’s just trying to take his time now.

got addicted to painkillers b/c of the injury, sought them out after his prescription ran out; it varies between oxy, vicodin, n percocets and like...they mix really badly w/ his antidepressants tbh ??

that’s v v hush-hush bc he doesn’t want people to worry about him moreso than they already do after like...all these tragic mf events y’know.

he had moved out of his greek house to live on his own but after his second time coming back to ucla he moved back in b/c that way somebody could kick his ass if he fell down the rabbit hole again y’know

his antidepressant, lexapro, causes hallucinations and now he’s been seeing dinah everywhere, hearing her voice, etc. etc. he thinks he’s finally going insane and also keeps it v hush hush b/c he doesn’t want people to think he is

he looks worse for wear but he just. keeps on pretendin’.

personality!

he’s just ... really calm tbh?

he’s always been the (or one of the) least fussy child, hated starting conflicts

if anything he’s always been a mediator ?? the peacemaker, tries to resolve things before they get outta hand

he hates fighting, physical n verbal, refuses to partake in it

even when dinah n him would get into arguments he’d be really quiet during them

that being said he wasn’t like antisocial or anything just bc he was quiet y’know ??

he was the quiet cool dude who was always popular for some fucking reason (its the height im telling u) and offered rly good advice

he’s a big fucking softie lemme tell u . . . he cries at most movies tbh

v intelligent, still carries small dumbass energy b/c he doesn’t make the best choices as u can tell

v v good at his craft, has been working on his third poetry book but has a lil bit of writer’s block atm and it’s ? torturing him tbh ?

he’s got a sense of humor but it’s like . . . kind of morbid tbh like he deals w shit via locking up his emotions and using humor as a coping mechanism

he’s a sentimental piece of shit tho we love him. he has a bottle of dinah’s favorite perfume and sprays his bed w it before he goes to sleep

that being said he really...isn’t over her, still, y’know ??

he’s 100% sure that she was his soulmate and he doesn’t think she could ever be replaced

(silly boy u cant replace people ! u just. meet people who fit u in other ways.)

hates being babied b/c he’s the oldest goddammit, that’s his job

he has a lil bit of a limp but like . . . that’s just bc his leg hurty

did i mention he’s protective bc he 100% is like listen.

he can bully his siblings. u cannot. that’s the rule sorry

even when his siblings r bullying each other he like body-flops on top of them and is p much like fucking Stop

he’s in his last yr of college but he’s doing grad school right after b/c he rly. doesn’t wanna b a partner w his dad. he doesn’t wanna own the stables or breed horses. he’s troy bolton and writing is his singing, horsebreeding is his basketball.

okay he really wants to know who tf pulled him outta the water b/c he never got to say thank u and he’s just like ?? LET ME SAY THANK U GODDAMMIT

he’s lowkey in the party scene but he’s also a bit of a wallflower when it comes to them, he prefers to drink his alcohol n watch ppl b idiots or sit on a roof high off his ass with a pal

he’ll fuck u but he wont date u but like so will most of the guys so he’s not unique he’s just a hashtag tortured artist

like it’s so hard for him to connect w others in a potentially romantic way ?? bc he just doesn’t feel anything and u cant really blame him for it tbh

has panic attacks n insomnia but u aint hear it from me

ironically........has taken up smoking cigarettes, as well.......even tho his gf died from lung cancer.......will why?

oh right bc i commanded thee

wanted connections !!

WHO PULLED HIM OUTTA THAT MF CAR CRASH ?? - i wanna know mf !!

his siblings uwu - GIVE US THE LAST HEART. PLEASE.

roommate - !! they can b chill or hate each other tbh who knows

frat bros - please.

uuuh general friends i guess ??

will they wont they - they’re rly close but will is really dumb and straight refuses to acknowledge the fact that they’d b like . . . perfect together

general unrequited things - william is emotionally unavailable, lmao, let’s see how that works w others

current hookups - he’s a bit of a slut, let’s b real. we ain’t shaming him b/c we don’t do that in 2k19 but we also speaking truths

good influences - please...help him get better

confidantes - somebody he just can fuckin complain to w/o feeling shitty or guilty for it

bad influences - make him. worse. he’s doing bad but he’s not at his worst yet.

anything. else. u want. i will do. i can do. i am god. i have ultimate power. william is my pAWN.

[prkrc]

hey there demons! it me, sam! this is just parker’s same old intro edited with some updates and wanted / taken connections, so feel free to take a look if you’re interested! messaging me @ellvie is probably easiest!

DISCLAIMER: this is a sideblog so i might post stuff to the wrong acc sometimes js

so, this guy right here…riley ignatius parker-warrington…will throw hands if you call him anything other than parker. it’s what everyone calls him. you gotta be really special to call him riley and not immediately get decked for it. tbh most people probably think parker is his first name anyway so! moving on

parker was born to a wealthy family in a small but affluent village called alderley edge in cheshire, england. he’s the youngest of four sons so he has three older brothers.

his family, the parker-warringtons ( known more commonly as the warringtons ) are stupid rich. it hurts me to think about it askdh. they’re basically the british rockefellers. parker’s great x6 granddad started the family business back a couple centuries ago and nowadays they’ve got their hands in everything from business to architecture to real estate to education to oil…they own a lot of stuff. the warrington building in downtown london was completely made up just now is basically the rockefeller center of the uk. 

the family drama has been highly publicized in the uk & europe for longer than anyone can remember at this point, but not as much in america. 

anyway, parker spent his early years sheltered and pampered and homeschooled by tutors and nannies bc his parents never had time for him but it’s whatever he got over it really early on in life.

parker’s always been a huge troublemaker with a restless nature so his wealthy, uptight, lowkey shady af parents who are obsessed with the family’s image could never really deal with him and eventually decided to just ship him off to boarding schools all over europe, just one after the other after the other bc he kept getting kicked out lmao.

about the only thing he enjoyed about his childhood and schooling were his music lessons. he was taught to play piano, violin, and even the harp. other things like math and history and science didn’t come easily to him at all, but music? he was great at it and he’s always loved it. during his teen years while away at boarding school was when he first procured an electric guitar and learned to play. along with that, he also discovered punk music, aka the greatest thing in the entire fucking universe if you ask him. far as music goes, he’d found his calling in his early teenage years.

at school he was basically that rebellious kid in all the movies who wore doc martens with his prim & proper school uniform and carried around a pocket knife and cut class to go smoke while vandalizing school property and would absolutely fuck up some prissy pretty boy’s face just for looking at him the wrong way.

literally the only reason he actually graduated rather than flunking out was because his father was able to pull some strings aka bought his very last boarding school a whole new library wing. parker did actually consider running away a few times, but there was a part of him really reaaaaally deep down that actually enjoyed some aspects of school ( though he very strongly believes many education systems across the world need a serious overhaul and blahblahblah don’t ask him unless you want a lecture ). anyway, the moment he was done with school, he did finally skip out on…well, everything and everyone and ditched the country altogether, heading out first to seattle washington, then to los angeles, california, and then he finally settled in new york city when he was twenty years old, meaning that he’s lived in nyc for the last three years!

started his band, rabid porcupine, right after moving to the city. they’re a punk band, popular among the subculture and virtually unknown to everyone else. parker is the lead vocalist, guitarist, songwriter, overall face of the band but don’t get it twisted he could never go solo his whole band is important to him.

his parents have threatened to cut him off & disinherit him about a billion times but will probably never actually do it even though they see him as a huge disgrace to the family name. they call sometimes but he never picks up. if anybody asks he’d probably say that he hates his family but he honestly doesn’t. i don’t think he’s capable of hate lmao. he doesn’t like them and he’d rather stay away from them bc he and his family just do not get along, but at the end of the end of the day, v deep down he has like….a teeny tiny molecule of affection for them even though his family is 100% genuinely awful people

so, parker left nyc for a bit! even though it was only like a week ago in real time i wanna say he’s actually been gone for about two to three months maybe? idk but he went back to england in a rush, just kinda vanishing overnight as he tends to do.

he told no one where he was going or that he was even leaving at all. not even his roommate or…the person he’s very attached to, stas. he didn’t wanna tell anyone why he had to leave.

BUT WE’RE ALL GONNA FIND OUT RIGHT HERE AND NOW SURPRISE! his dad died. yikes. now they had a very…complicated relationship. parker hated his father and his father hated him. tbh his death wouldn’t have been enough for parker to go all the way back to england bc he fucking hates it there if it weren’t for the fact that his dad was pulling some fuck shit from the grave.

long story short, he left the family company to parker in his will. not the family, not his wife, not any of his other three sons. nope. the whole ass billion dollar company, every single subset, everything…was left to one riley ignatius parker-warrington.

naturally he was fucking furious. he hates the family business, he hates their company, he hates office work, and he hates knowing that his father only did it to spite him. he immediately attempted to get rid of the company. tried selling it, just straight up giving it away, even driving it into the ground lmao. just, anything to get it off of his hands and out of his responsibility but nothing has worked so far.

and that’s why he’s back in nyc! he wants a lawyer’s opinion so what i think parker is gonna do here? lowkey try to sneak into town, get some help from a lawyer he trusts and then leave without anyone else noticing or knowing that he was in town at all because he absolutely does not want to be here and he especially doesn’t wanna show his face. too bad for him!

lemme…stop? and just give you a few quick facts bc this is getting super long who’s even still reading this?

looks like he could kill you and could actually kill you

he hasn’t been home in like five years but he still has the heaviest most posh british accent you will ever hear in your life + he knows he’s fulfilling a stereotype here but he doesn’t care he fuckin loves tea

his three older brothers are named sebastian, nikolai, & rian. he doesn’t get along with any of them but he and rian he by far has the worst relationship with rian, his identical twin who’s a few minutes older. unlike most stereotypical twins they’ve literally never been in sync, have never gotten along and have probably beaten each other up before.

his family is big on modern day arranged marriages but you can miss parker with that bullshit he will date whoever he wants

that being said i think he’s probably…straight? idk tho & like who’s really straight anymore honestly

most people think that he’s a jerk bc he’s incredibly standoffish and temperamental but he’s actually…not that bad? like he’s sure he’s permanently grumpy but he also holds the door open for people and says thank you to janitors and probably helps old ladies across the street and would literally rather die than be rude to wait staff in a restaurant

seemingly very passionate about everything always openly expresses his emotions. he doesn’t…know how to hide them? he doesn’t know how to pretend like he doesn’t care?

adrenaline junkie, reckless af & likes to party but isn’t into hard drugs. he’s tried once or twice but just really isn’t a fan. he smokes & drinks & smokes weed sometimes but that’s it

very observant and good at reading people

basically the walking talking rl embodiment of the jerk with a heart of gold trope.

knows he’s not the easiest person to befriend but if you are his friend, then he’s gonna be loyal af, the realest ride or die of all time

however, he tends to take the tough love route when he’s trying to help someone out. like just bc you’re his friend he’s not gonna coddle you bc you’re upset he’s gonna tell you how to how to deal with your problems & emotions

which is funny bc lmao he’s angry af 1000% of the time. will throw hands anytime anywhere

so to the surprise as nobody he took up boxing as a kid and to this day it’s the only sport he cares about at all. he still boxes once or twice a week as a hobby & it’s probs pretty good for him tbh

also took a lot of music lessons back in the day. he’s actually a very talented pianist who probably could’ve gone on to play professionally if he stuck with it but nah. he likes the guitar. you’ll probs never catch him playing the piano which is a shame bc he honestly is a beautiful pianist :/

worked as an auto mechanic before he committed to his band full time but highkey misses it sometimes. he still likes cars & absolutely loves motorcycles, will talk about them all day with you if you want.

he has a motorcycle which pretty much built it himself from scratch and it’s just…it’s literally his child ok he will freak if you so much as lay a hand on his motorcycle ok /f r e a k/ like don’t even look at it the wrong way

feminist af

parker is grumpy and angry and standoffish but look he really is and really tries to be a decent guy. anyone who knows him well would see that very clearly and honestly, that’s probably why they stick around even though he can be difficult.

CONNECTIONS

family

future step sibling - genesis iver

maternal cousin, don’t get along - open.

paternal cousin, basically the only family member he likes - ingrid larson

romantic

ex girlfriend / highkey in love - anastasia sangster

ex on good terms - open.

ex on bad terms - open.

former toxic on / off relationship - open.

fwb - maia kauri.

former fwb - open.

platonic

best friend / ride or die - mason grey

roommate - open. please check the main for info on this wc!

close friends - reese monroe, kennedy drakos, isla thompson, open to more.

friends -  warren daily, marnie almeida, sullivan ramsey, alexandra blakely, cameron jones, open to more.

unlikely friends - wren daily, open to more.

frenemies - rosalind cox, jake carver, open to more.

attempted good influence - logan van kamp

workout buddy - willow sparks

negative

enemies - lukas donovan, open to several. parker is a goblin so he could’ve pissed someone off for many reasons

ex friends - jay weston, open to more.

doesn’t like / trust - lex sinclair

since this is officially a novel i think it’s time for me to sTOP LMAO. i have no specific wc in mind but i’d love to plot so please feel free to message me if you’re interested! as always i’m super excited to plot and write with everyone!

[homosociallyyours]

a friend just posted a pic on fb of the coffee shop we used to hang out at, taken way back in the day. it’s just a shot of the place taken from inside, looking out the big glass windows and onto the street of downtown chattanooga. but one friend pointed out that she could see another friend’s van parked across the street, and one of the baristas came on and said he’d taken the photo and then proceeded to post a bunch more. 

anyway i’m feeling nostalgic so i’m posting about it. memories behind the cut. 

i started going there when i was maybe 15 years old. i don’t remember why, but it’s likely that the artsy nerd club i was a part of (we stayed after school to watch amadeus and monty python and we’d sometimes go to the local art museum) went there after a meeting one day. or maybe someone told me about it. anyway, it was my favorite place to go. i would drink pots of tea, always trying new things. 

on my 16th birthday my parents got me a teapot from there and a gift certificate to buy tea with. i had that teapot til it broke a year ago. 20+ years! it moved with me to and from college, to nyc, california, texas, and back to california. damn. 

anyway after i’d been going for a while i started talking with the owner. his name was ian, and he was pretty young. he loved tea and coffee and he had a roaster where they’d make their own coffee. it was loud and lovely, and for a long time it lived up front, right by a little elevated area with couches. when it was running you couldn’t hear anything and had no choice but to either shout or be quiet. 

ian encouraged my love of tea, and offered to keep track of everything i’d tried in a little notebook that was kept behind the counter. i got to make notes on every pot i drank, and i remember writing “terrible! grass!” after my first pot of green tea (it was oversteeped--my fault--and probably made with water that was too hot--their fault). i had my first pu-er there, and fell in love with its damp leaf flavor and that turned earth scent that it has. i drank multiple pots of jasmine pearls and wrote a caffeine fueled poem about it with a friend. i loved that little coffee shop. 

i don’t remember when i went from hanging out inside to hanging out outside, but i feel like i was 18 or so. the older people (they were probably barely 21-25, fucking babies) sat out there smoking and drinking coffee. i developed a crush one summer on a guy who made me think of arthur dent for some reason (don’t ask because i don’t know) and we went on one awkward date and didn’t kiss, and now i wonder what’s happened to him and if he, too, wasn’t straight. who knows? someone, i’m sure, but i can’t remember his last name anymore so is it even relevant? 

i’d never felt cool til i went off to college. it was like leveling up without trying, like when you’re playing a game and do one action and suddenly all your stats are refilled and you’re like...this is unexpected? but i’ll take it? i think that’s why i decided i could really sit with the outside tables. that and my bff, who was dating someone who was friends with a lot of those people, would show up sometimes and sit out there. 

(if you’ve actually been reading along so far, here’s where i’m gonna introduce you to a bunch of people i’ve never talked about before and will likely never mention again. just so you have fair warning.) 

the cast of characters shifted a lot, but there were always the constants. scott, the barista, who was much older than most of the people hanging out but looked young and seemed young. i look back with adult eyes and question the relationship we had, but at the time i just thought it was cool that someone so much older thought i was worth hanging out with. but he was 30 when i was 19, and man that’s a lotta years. he had a summer where he hit on my friend and i constantly, after his wife left him and he was kinda floundering a bit. but it never went past flirting and it never bothered me, though like i said it kinda does now. we were still hanging out when i was 21 and we’d go get beers after the coffee shop closed at ten or midnight. he’d turn up obnoxious music really loud and i’d sometimes help close. 

there was gabe and george, brother and sister in a family of people with names starting with the letter g. george was tiny and cute and either very drunk or very hyper from coffee at all times. gabe was a nerd who was usually quiet but loved to play scrabble, and we’d take the board inside sometimes and battle one another. he was much better than me, i won’t lie. liz and ever were both writers who would play with us sometimes. ever had changed her name at some point (to ever; any name she had before is irrelevant) and when we met she explained the meaning of her new name, which i won’t give because damn it’s very google-able. 

she was a so fascinating to me, always talking about some feminist theory or philosopher, and i always felt so smart when we’d hang out. like a Serious Thoughtful Adult and not a kid. and liz was less serious but no less smart. she played scrabble a lot more and for a while we got pretty close. she took me out after coffee sometimes to a shitty bar with pool tables and tried to teach me how to play pool. she had her own cue and even though she was like 5′2″ she could break like nobody’s business. i never figured out how to do that part. 

alex would come with us sometimes. he was tall and handsome and rode a motorcycle, and was the first openly bi guy i ever met. one time he invited me over to his house and we laid around listening to the smiths and talking. he burned me a copy of their greatest hits that i still have, all scratched up so it probably doesn’t play anymore. he crashed his bike more than once driving drunk. dumb fuckin kid. now he repairs coffee machines and sails, i think. life is funny. 

a few other people ran in groups. meg and waide and the aforementioned jason and ardyce. some people called meg “big megan” and another megan (her family was really wealthy, rich southern politicians who knew the clintons and have a mention in sweet home alabama--the song, not the movie) was “little megan” because she was still in high school. i joked that i was medium megan, but the whole thing was awkward because big megan was fat and i was small fat and little megan was skinny. i’m gonna blame it on thoughtless dudes, but who the fuck knows? we all pretended not to mind it anyway. 

waide ended up being a connection with other people who i met later. my hometown is weird in that it’s actually a pretty big part of the southern punk scene, so a lot of punks i meet have spent time there, and anyone over a certain age probably spent time at the bar waide worked at (the stone lion, and then maybe also the pickle barrel) so he’s one of those people who i’ll end up mentioning even though we haven’t spoken in years. 

at some point a kid named ory showed up. i think he was 16 when he started coming around, and i used to call him puppy because he was excitable and silly, full of energy one minute and then mopey crashing the next. like a lot of people there he drank a lot and would be fucked up sometimes and make dumb choices. i always wanted to protect him. when i was 22 (and he was 19, i think) we ended up sitting together at the second lotr movie and having some kind of weird chemistry. that summer i drove him home one night and we had a super heavy make out with lots of clothed grinding. honestly the furthest i’ve ever gone with a cis straight(ish, he hooked up with a couple dudes but idk if he’d say he’s bi) dude and it was awkward in that we never talked about it? and then he came to visit me a couple years later in new york because he was in the navy, and he got super drunk and passed out on my couch and was a mess because he literally never stopped being a puppy. 

he’s fucked up now, fully cancelled bc he said shit about girls rock camp (really dude?) and also probably cheated on his wife on their honeymoon? idk, it was fb rumors and then he deleted. but i’d believe it, honestly. 

and then there were all these absolutely random downtown characters: dirty mark (a crusty punk who was drunk or high most of the time) and shirtless dave (yeah he really didn’t wear a shirt that much) usually came as a pair. sometimes dave hung out with a guy my friends and i called blue hair. he once hit on my friend and she panicked and gave him my number instead of hers because her brain didn’t make up a fake number fast enough. 

there was sandy the flower man, who just passed away a couple weeks ago. he’d get flowers from local florists and go around on his bike, stopping into the coffee shop or to bars with roses and carnations and daisies. people gave him money usually, but sometimes he’d just hand you a flower because he wanted to. i saw a picture from a memorial and there was a portrait of him that was sat on top of his bicycle, all of it surrounded with flowers on flowers. so pretty. it’s what he deserved. 

things changed around 2005 or so, i think. by that time, all the old baristas had left and the kids who came in were all weirdly religious and went to the christian college on the mountain. they made shitty coffee and sometimes played xtian rock and most of the old regulars couldn’t take it anymore. ian got sick around that time, too, and ended up selling the place. they stopped carrying much tea, if any. 

but they finally sold the space and moved in like 2015. i remember the first time i drove by and didn’t see the lights on inside. it felt like seeing a friend from grade school all grown up, maybe the kid you had a crush on but they have a family now and you don’t think they’d recognize you at all so you just have to walk away. gone. 

fuck this post is long as shit, i’m sorry for anyone on mobile. but damn it was good to get my memories out. 

[saidbyes-blog]

( FRIEND OF GRANT'S ) ebony harrison ( 24 / she/they ): demigirl & friends who seemingly clicked despite emotional distance, and acquaintance of mallory's. ( nina nesbitt ) ( PACE / 20+ / SHE/HER )

hello ! so, i’m typing this up straight after acceptance ( lmao, talk about eager ) so hopefully anything i inevitably forget, i can add between now and when this’ll actually be posted, so you actually have some decent info to work with ! but i’m pace ( which is obviously an alias but,,,, pls just call me pace ! ) and my pronouns are she/her ! and moving on to the one you actually wanna know about... 

—– ❀ okay, so !! as you can see above, ebony is a friend of grant’s ! on the surface, they seem to just ‘get’ eachother, but of course ebony is completely oblivious to who he really is and what he’s capable of. however, because ebony isn’t the most open and uhh,,, Not-Closed-Off as people, it kind of works ? in a,,,, neither of them ask too many questions kind of way ? it’s mutual, y’know ?she kind of sees him as a guy who’s Not Like The Other Guys ( while lowkey a voice in the back of her head is like ALL GUYS ARE LIKE THE OTHER GUYS ) and they just seem to Understand eachother. but ebony can be a sceptical little fuck, and she’s generally just Wary in general sometimes, but she also wants to believe that some people are good and their intentions are as they seem and it’s Pure. even if she EVER got creepy vibes from grant, she’d either be like CREEP EVIL NASTY BYE SEE YA or convince herself she’s making it up because of relationships with people in the past. but ofc, the worst part is that he’s never given her any reason to think grant is anything but just a nice, charming guy who’s maybe a little pretentious and quiet but that’s basically the worst thing about him, and if it were to happen now, she’s in too deep for it to be a red flag. yoikes. but we all know that to everyone else he just looks like a,,, Nice Guy. either way, he’s a friend, and their lack of actually being as close as they may seem isn’t that weird for her ( which i shall explain in a different bullet point bc this is long ! )

—– ❀ she isn’t a complete plum, and won’t turn a blind eye forever, but in the recent months/so far, she’s come to grant’s defence, thinking that anybody who’s pointed the finger at him is a) unoriginal and b) has clearly never met him. she thinks it’s cruel and unnecessary. like, her pov is that he lost his girlfriend, who told the story of what happened/was going to happen to her, and it’s as simple as that, in a ‘why would mallory write about that otherwise’ kind of way. she’s applying logic to it and i’m like oh,,, honey,,, you sweet summer child,,, plus, grant’s manipulative ass is looking all kinds of charming and innocent and whatever. HOWEVER, things slowly unfolding and eventually ebony beginning to question things ! yes pls ! internal conflict !

—– ❀ however, ebony also briefly vaguely knew mallory ! she attended a few of her yoga classes ages ago, and it’s a complete coincidence that ebony knew the both of them. if/when grant ever mentioned mallory to ebony, the name wouldn’t have clicked, and since she never met her outside of the classes, it took her a while to click why mallory looked so familiar when everything blew up after her death. it kind of weirds her out that someone she knew was murdered, and that it never clicked that Grant’s Girlfriend was the one who taught those yoga classes, but it’s just a complete coincidence ! 

—– ❀ TW FOR ABUSE MENTION: ebony hasn’t read the book, and doesn’t plan on it. she might one day if she’s feeling impulsive and self destructive, but because of the subject matter, she’s avoiding it. it had nothing to do with being grant’s friend ( even though most people would probably question if it’s the Moral and Ethical thing to do, that doesn’t even cross her mind -- she’s not the most moral of people tbh ) and has more to do with the fact that she’s been in an abusive relationship in the past, herself, and she’s just like............nope. ( / end of tw ! )

—– ❀ she didn’t grow up in new york, and has only called it home for for a few years. but she also travels a lot, and is very flaky, and can disappear for periods of time just to show up announced a few weeks later. it’s not weird for her to drop off the grid for a bit ( sounds safe, ebs ) and it’s not weird for her to ditch social circles and local hangouts in general and just ghost, and she’s also lived in several different states across the country. she cannot commit to anything ever, including places. it’s actually odd that she’s been in new york for so long, but she loves the energy and the spirit of the city. and it’s massive so if she tires of a certain spot, she can drift elsewhere ! plus.........plot convenience. 

—– ❀ sometimes she might feel a little out of place tbh ! she’s not an academic and she definitely didn’t come from money, and doesn’t have an abundance of it now, either. she’s a bartender, as that’s always her job when i play her lmao, but i might give her another too but i’m still flipping back and forth so..... tbd !

—– ❀ TW FOR DEATH: a bit of background: she was born in california to amelia robinson & david harrison, a young couple who hadn’t been together all that long when they found out they were expecting, but were madly in love nonetheless. david was completely devoted to his daughter, but he sadly died when she was seven. after his death, some hard truths to swallow came out about him, and her already distraught mother was even more heartbroken. life was pretty rough after his death and her mother couldn’t really cope anymore and became someone that ebs ended up not really recognising, and she became kind of cruel. she’s since forgiven her mother for who she became and therefore how she then treated her daughter, but they’re not close. ebony left cali for a few years after turning seventeen, and when she returned at twenty, she found her father’s broken watch, which she sometimes still wears now. it looks out of place on her thin wrist, especially since the damn thing doesn’t work, but she likes it nonetheless and refuses to get it fixed. in ways like that, she can be,,, a little pretentious ( again, why her friendship with grant works ) and while we’re on the subject of that..... ( / tw ends ! )

—– ❀ her personality is a little messy. she can be very........difficult ? especially as a friend ? though she’s kind-hearted and forgiving and can be very gentle, she’s also temperamental and vague and selfish. she doesn’t mean to be selfish, but she just is. it’s,,, probably infuriating to some people ? as well as the fact that she’s very easily misunderstood due to being hard to understand. yet she also doesn’t like people making the effort to try and understand. yet also wants someone in her life who does understand her. like.........she wants something, but won’t let anybody make the steps to get the thing she wants ? like.............jfc, ebs. she also cannot deal with anything, and it’s not uncommon for somebody to think that everything is going fine and they’re getting on with her great, but then shit hits the fan and the real things happen and she’s like !!! bye !!! so, again, she’s a bit of a flight risk right now. bc like...... well, a murder’s a pretty big thing, my dudes. but also, in her mind, one of her friends is going through some Big Stuff what with his girlfriend being “murdered by her ex” so although most people would be like “gosh golly i should be there for him” there’s a part of ebony that’s like “cannot............deal...............want.......................to yeet.........” but because it’s his Trauma to deal with, it’s easier for her to stay. for example, if something happened between herself and grant that was mutual ( no matter what it was ) that caused angst, that’d be more of a reason for her to Yeet because it directly effects her ? if that at all makes sense ?

—– ❀ quick thing about gender and pronouns !! gender is messy and complicated ( to her ) and she accepted that long ago, but she identifies as a demigirl. her pronouns are she/her, HOWEVER she really appreciates when people use they/them when she hasn’t explicitly stated her pronouns to somebody. she just ,,, thinks it’s the respectful thing to do, but it also makes her feel Valid. she mostly identifies with the gender she was assigned at birth, and tends to present very femininely, but that doesn’t make her any less nb, y’know ? and she doesn’t like people,,, forgetting that she’s Not A Woman ? a lot of the time she’s worried people won’t see her as being nb and even her nb friends she’s sometimes convinced will just forget she’s Not A Woman ?? however, she’s okay with sometimes being referred to as a girl, but always on her own terms. like.......her mobile header literally says ‘sad girls club’ but like..... on her own terms, y’know ? so tldr: if we could pls refrain from referring to her as like ‘the woman’ or ‘the girl’ in threads, that’d be greatly appreciated !

—– ❀ some extras if you want to see/read more about the goblin: stats, playlist, pinterest, aesthetic, old drabbles*, old about/drabble. she doesn’t have a full bio, as the last one i wrote ended up being over 7k words and honestly.........who has the time

* if you click this one, please be aware that trigger warnings apply for abuse, as well as vague/tiny mentions of pregnancy.

extra connections !!! if u want !!!! idk !!!

—– ❀ friends from out of town ! if anybody is from anywhere else in the u.s outside of ny, or they spent a lot of time somewhere else, they totally could’ve known eachother a few years ago. bc ebony has lived in several different places, i can probably wiggle things around and make it work no matter what state they’ve lived in !

—– ❀ friends ! as you might’ve gathered from the rest of the intro, ebony can be a little Difficult, but she’s still kind at heart, and can be soft, and thoughtful ! so, friends that have no problem with her, friends who call her out on her bullshit, friends who she’s ditched in the past, friends she parties with, friends who have tried to Fix her, friends she trusts more than most, etc etc ! as the great sutton foster once said, anything goes !

—– ❀ fwb/hook-ups/flings/exes ! whether they’re things of the past or kind of ongoing, it’s pretty open ! ebony likes people of any and all genders, and ( not dissimilar to mallory, actually ! ) has no problems spreading her love around. which is basically the beating-around-the-bush way of saying she has a lot of sex with a lot of people, and i support her ( ... eh, when it’s healthy ) but one night stands, friends that have no problem keeping things causal, people she dated for a while, something that started casual but Feelings happened and it’s messy, all kinds of stuff is good to go !

—– ❀ people who were also in the yoga classes mallory taught at the time ! it would’ve been a while ago but if the Yoga Peoples would’ve been there back in the day too then perfect !

—– ❀ grant’s other friends ! people who met through grant ! we all have that friend we met through a mutual murderer, right ? or someone who eb met through grant and they can’t fucking stand eachother ? someone she met through grant but then shagged and now it’s awkward ? people who were actually friends with eachother first and one of them introduced grant to the other ? people who she only met at mallory’s funeral bc they were both there to support their murderous pal ? having the two of ‘em meet unrelated and then find out casually like oh shit u know my good bitch grant ? wild ! all kinds of shit !

—– ❀ roommates ! what are the realistic chances of a group of roomies all knowing either the gal who got murdered or her boyfriend ? slim as fuck but plot convenience !! maybe two or three roomies ? ny’s expensive and ebony isn’t a rich gal !

—– ❀ tbh though i also really love just.......... throwing the characters into a situation and seeing how things go, and having people meet for the first time and stuff, but i also love pre-plotted and intenser stuff, and messy/complicated plots work really well with eb ! i love all kinds of things, i’m down for w/e. while we’re on connections though, i tend to suck with plotting and i’m sometimes a little slow with ims, but i just want to make that Known so it’s not taken personally or anybody thinks i’m not interested anymore or anything ! i’m definitely replying, i promise !

okay so if you read all of this, you’re a saint and greatly appreciated ! apologies for the rambling ! feel free to drop by if you’d like to plot or anything like that ! ps. pls enjoy the fact that i scheduled this while watching the ted bundy thing on netflix, bc it tickled me. bit too fitting huh lads. 

[voldiebuns]

HalLUDOween!!

So last weekend I went to HalLUDOween, aka Ludo's one night only, first time in six years concert! They're my favorite band and since I didn't think I'd ever get to hear them again in concert, of course I had to go. Even if it was in St. Louis, an approximately 11 hour drive from home lol But @biffelderberry and I figured it would be worth it, and it so was :D

We started out early Friday morning since it was going to be a long drive and we had to pick up a rental car since neither of our cars was up to such a drive. Of course we found out like an hour into the drive that the model we got had had a recall put out that very morning, but thankfully we didn't have any problems with it. The drive was actually not too bad, despite being so long and being mostly a drive through boring wilderness. We'd put together an approximately 13 hour playlist, so we had plenty of music to sing along with. And we made lots of stops at Taco Bell so I could get their potato tacos bc I'm apparently obsessed lol I ended up eating Taco Bell for every meal Friday, which was probably not a good idea, but it tasted fucking awesome.

(Me, left, and Biff at the beginning of the drive.)

Made it to the hotel around 8 maybe. There were two guys from Chicago in the check in line in front of us who we think may have been there for the concert as well, but the cool part was when we went down to breakfast in the morning, we met two other ppl who were there for the concert! They were from Wisconsin and California, so it was cool to talk to them for a bit about how much we all love Ludo and were so happy we were getting to see them again. We'd planned to use most of Saturday to explore St. Louis, since we'd come so far anyway. We'd wanted to do a ghost tour, but that didn't end up working out, but we did do a few other cool things. We went to an antiques store where we couldn't afford anything, but it still had some really interesting stuff. Then we went over to Grand Street, which I gather is kind of the popular downtown street. We ate at Lulu's Local Eatery, which is a small, hippster-y vegan place. I got the mac n cheese and Biff got the sliders, both of which were fucking delicious. Also very filling, which was a little disappointing bc we'd hoped to share the carnitas loaded tots after lol After that we went to a nearby comic book store. The owner was super nice and we talked to him about Ludo a bit (I was wearing my Ludo shirt) bc apparently everyone in town knew about this concert lol He'd had some other ppl in earlier who were going, I think from New York? Or maybe Arizona. We basically spent the whole weekend hearing from ppl in town about ppl coming in from out of state for the concert. Anyway, after that we did a little more walking around, mostly bc we wanted to look at all the pretty trees, and then went to Walmart to pick up some food (they have a So Delicious cashew milk chocolate cookies and cream ice cream that is to die for!). And crosstitching stuff bc Biff wanted to do an AO3 inspired bookmark design, and I thought it sounded fun as well. Also got some face masks bc why not. Which actually turned out not to be the best idea... When we got back to the hotel, I tried out my clay mask and it didn't go well. I did put a little too much water in it, but I don't think that accounts for how I apparently had an allergic reaction to it. Seriously, when I took it off, I looked like I had a rash all over my face. Thankfully my makeup skills were enough to cover it up, but I did end up sitting with a cool cloth on my face for awhile just to be sure the only reaction was the rash. Here's a picture of me post concert with half my makeup wiped off (the red side was waaaay better than when I first took off the mask):

So got ready, blah blah blah. And then it was time for the concert!! Costumes were encouraged, but since we didn't actually bring any, we just dressed up. My outfit of the night, which I loved bc I'd been waiting for an excuse to wear that crop top:

We took a Lyft to and from the venue since we didn't want to deal with parking or driving back at who knew what time. Which was probably a good thing bc the whole area around there was packed. More so for the second show, where the lines were literally down the block, but even for the first show. Bc of my trying to deal with a sudden allergic reaction rash, we were running a little late, so we got there like halfway through the opener. He was pretty good from what we heard, so I'll probably look up his music at some point. We had assigned seats in the balcony, which I was really glad of even if they cost more than GA down below. We would have had to get there hours early to get a good place there and would have had to stand, which I really am not up to for long amounts of time. But our seats were actually really good and we had a fantastic view of the stage. Except for the railing being right at eye level lol Since the concert was Halloween themed, they of course had some Halloween elements for the stage and their costumes. There were a couple of big, glowing blow up ghosts on either side of the stage. When the show started, about a dozen ppl came out in sheet ghost costumes and ran away around for awhile until it was just the band and they took off the sheets to show they were wearing skeleton onesies. Which I really really want one of now tbh.

Here's the vid I took of the intro. It was honestly so so awesome to see them in concert again. The first and only time I saw them before was in 2011, which was right before they basically broke up (ie they all just drifted away to other things and the band was no more). They did pretty much the song set that I'd been expecting, though there were a couple of things they sang that I hadn't expected. (They'd done a poll on twitter with Topek, Girls on Trampolines, and a couple of others, so since Topeka won I wasn't expecting them to play Girls on Trampolines.) And they did my top three favorite songs of theirs! Including Andrew going solo on my absolute favorite, Horror of Our Love! I took a vid of that too of course, which you can prob hear both Biff and I singing along to. They ended the concert with a cover of the Ghostbusters theme song and having a bunch of kids come out to throw candy to the crowd, which was a fun way to end it. There was no new music, aside from the two covers they did, which I think all of us had been hoping for. Even though we knew it was unlikely since the week before was the first time they'd all been in a room together in years. Still, the music and the experience of being part of the crowd was just as fantastic as last time. So yeah, the concert was amazing all around and totally worth the ridiculous drive :D After, we went down the block to the merch store, bc there was definitely no way I was leaving without something. We stood out in the cold for an hour waiting in line, which was fine except for the couple behind us was being really critical of the show and really annoying. We found out the reason it was taking so long was that the band was in the merch store talking to fans and signing stuff and taking pictures, which I hadn't expected. Of course their handler started telling them they needed to leave basically as soon as we got up to the front of the line. But! They were being pretty slow about it bc they wanted to keep talking to the fans, so Matt, the drummer, ended up at the door at the same time we were and he gave us hugs! He also said thanks for coming again, which made it sound like he recognized us? But idk. Anyway, as awesome as that was, the best part was apparently the girl behind us really wanted a hug from him and we were the last ones he hugged before leaving. Vengeance is sweet :D Anyway, I ended up with a t-shirt and a poster for the concert, plus a couple smaller ones from previous tours that they were giving away for free. There was a really cool tree print that I wish I would have gotten, so I hope they put that up online. There was a vinyl of the last CD as well that I wanted, but I really didn't feel like I could justify that as well. Maybe they'll put it up online too.

We took a Lyft back, which was a bit of an experience bc we had to cross the street to get to our ride and some asshole apparently was tired of waiting in traffic and tried to speed around while we were in the crosswalk. He stopped in time, but Biff really thought he was going to hit me :/ But we made it back to the hotel safely and met the lady from breakfast again. We ended up talking to her for awhile, which was fun bc she's been following the band for a long time and is apparently knows them personally bc of that. Sunday morning we slept in a bit bc we'd been out so late. We were both very glad we had decided not to drive home that day lol We went back out to Grand Street and had lunch at Lemongrass, a Vietnamese place there. I got the tofu summer roll and sesame tofu, and the sesame tofu was seriously good omg. After that we did some more walking and went to a bookstore we'd seen on Saturday. It was really cool and had a pretty fantastic variety of stuff spread out over three levels. We met a local Ludo fan there (we were both wearing the shirts we bought) who hadn't gotten to go to the concert and talked to her a little. Afterward we went over to the St. Louis Art Museum since they were supposed to have a textiles exhibit that sounded really interesting. We didn't end up finding it, and we only got to stay about half an hour before they closed, but it was still really fun. Plus they had some gorgeous views out front, some beautiful fall maples, and a statue of, apparently, Saint Louis.

We thought about going to the zoo after that, since it was literally across the street, but they were having some Halloween event and there were hundreds of small children everywhere. We decided that wasn't something we wanted to deal with lol So we went and picked up lunch from Fred and Ricky's Plant Delicious Foods, a lttle vegan grab and go place, instead and took it to eat at the hotel. The food was pretty good, though probably the best part is that I found out they ship nationwide, so I can order from there sometime if I want. Which is nice bc we really don't have many vegan places here. Monday it was time to leave. Because the drive home was long and we had to get back before the rental place closed at six, we got up at 5 am to head out. It wasn't too terrible, but we were definitely still tired. And I fell coming down the stairs with my suitcase and bruised my ass. It still hurts :/ Drive home seemed longer than the one there, probably bc I didn't really want to be going home lol It's so interesting how every time I go away for a fun weekend, it hits me when I get back how much I hate living at my house and in my city and in Texas in general. So I guess good motivation to try to find a way to move out sooner rather than later. So the weekend was fantastic! There were a few other places we would have liked to go, like the City Museum and some more vegan restaurants, but overall we hit some good places and had a lot of fun. Plus just the landscapes up there were so so pretty. We don't have trees like that in Texas lol But we're definitely thinking of going back to St. Louis sometime to see some more stuff. And maybe see Ludo again, if this concert was a sign of things to come! But of course it coudn't be all good. My throat was feeling a bit scratchy on the way home Monday, and by Tuesday I was pretty sick. Thankfully I had the whole week off plus Monday and Tuesday this week (I'd been hoping to go to a Star Trek meet up this weekend, but I couldn't afford it after all). I'm hoping I'm well by the time I go back to work, but it's been kind of a sucky way to spend my time off! But still worth it for Ludo lbr :D

(If you want to see the food pics I took, they’ll go up on my food blog: @foodandmind)