#the realization this song is over ten years old hurts me

[dailydegurechaff]

Today's Daily Degurechaff is… random vacation prompts 5 - a random song from my playlist (ELLIE by SeleP)

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

🤍 seven feet in the swing - I 🤍

As Taylor pushes open the door, the familiar creak feels heavier than usual, like a warning. The house is quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling studio she just left behind.

"Trav?" she calls out, her voice wavering slightly, but the only answer is the silence that envelops her. She sighs, drops her bag by the door. She sighs when she receives no answer, turns on the lights in the hallway and realizes that he's not home. The gym is locked by the alarm system. The lights are off. And it's not the same. It's not the same as it used to be when she came home from the studio, knowing he was in the city. The living room greets her with its disarray—pillows scattered, his stinky sweatshirt from his earlier workout hanging over one of their dining chairs. Her sigh bounces off the walls, but it's met with only the soft patter of paws coming from their hiding spots, weaving around her legs gently. She kneels down to scratch Olivia behind their ears. She smiles. In contrast to her sister, this cat will forever be happy to see her. 

"Where's dad?" she whispers to herself and the cat and gets up again, the phone she just placed on the dining table lighting up. 

Hey babe, I'll be home late. Got caught up with some stuff. Don't wait for me.

Stuff. She can imagine what that word implicates. He met up with a few of his buddies for drinks. A new habit of his that she wasn't used to up until last year. Last year when he hurt his knee bad enough to know that he won't be able to play for another cycle. Last year on that rainy day in Rhode Island, when she held him for hours, his face pressed against her chest, crying like a child, knowing that one of the most important times of his life would come to an end soon. She knows he's been struggling ever since he quit football, but it feels like he's pulling further away, like the distance between them has become a chasm. At first, she thought he just needed time to grieve the end of football. She thought he needed time to clear his head, get clear on what projects he wants to focus on post season. But then, he did get those projects kick started. He got the roles he wanted, he got the success he wanted and she's there. She's always been there, to celebrate and support him at every step of his way. But still, things are different. Old feelings of anxiety are slowly interrupting her dreams at night nowadays. Songs that once were about the deep feeling of happiness have slowly become more dark, angsty, melancholic. She's been here before. Right before she left London four years ago, she found herself in the exact same spot. Next to her partner, but feeling completely alone.

Taylor swallows, making her way into their bedroom. She can't think like that, can't always compare her relationship to past ones. She quickly turns on the little night light, yawns loudly as she sits down on her side of the bed and takes off her shoes. A lot has changed in this house since Travis moved in as well. Getting married has made it even easier to turn every single one of her houses into their house. A bigger bed, more space for his sneakers and a new wallpaper are lighting up the room. It's not just her space anymore, it's his space too. And she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it. She loves sharing her life with this man. From the moment he made her laugh for the very first time, almost exactly three years ago, Taylor knew that her heart would never be the same. He opened up areas of her soul she thought were closed up forever. He brought nothing but joy, excitement and magic into her life and she wants to be the same for him, especially now where he's the one dealing with some hard stuff. 

Taylor yawns once more, changes into one of his t-shirts that she usually sleeps in and enters their shared bathroom. It's not even ten o'clock but she's absolutely exhausted, which is not typical for her at all. She's usually a night owl, having a completely different sleep rhythm to most people she knows, which entails going to bed more often when the lights come out and sleeping well into the afternoon. She's gotten a lot better after the eras tour has ended, but going to sleep at ten o'clock is early, even for her. 

Taylor reaches for one of her hair clips to stick up her hair a little before washing her face with warm water. A few minutes later she's brushed her teeth, moisturized her face and sighs slightly annoyed when picking up some of Travis' socks that he managed to toss right underneath the sink instead of simply placing them in the laundry basket. She still doesn't understand why that's so hard? With cold hands and a few cramps in her stomach, Taylor turns off the light in the master bathroom and sneaks under the sheets of their shared bed. She reaches for her phone and checks her emails for a moment. Benjamin has just made his way onto the soft bedsheets and Taylor just caresses the soft fur for a moment.

"I know. Dad is coming home late. We can go to bed already.." she mumbles to the little cat that confusedly starts to pull at Travis' side of the bed.

A few moments later, she closes her eyes, fighting sleep until her body just gives in.

___

Taylor wakes up all of the sudden, a loud bang of the front door causing her to sit up in bed upright. She feels dizzy, slightly nauseous from having been taken out of her deep sleep all of the sudden. Her night light is still on, and even the cats are looking at her confused. Trav's side of the bed is still empty. She swallows. Her hair in all directions, her eyes puffy from sleep.

"Trav?" she yells tiredly, realizing quickly that the loud bang of the door must have been her husband coming home, finally. She checks her phone quickly. 1:37am. She can't believe he is just now coming home. For a moment, she can't hear anything from downstairs. He also didn't answer her, which is absolutely unlike him.

"Baby?" she tries one more time. No answer. Taylor feels panic arise in her. She's alone in the house. If this was Travis, he would've replied to her already. Just when she reaches for her phone to give him a call is when she hers footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

"Travis?" she yells again, no answer. Immediately, Taylor feels her hands getting sweaty. Her breathing pattern becomes faster and more shallow. Someone broke into the house. She needs to call security, right now, before whoever this person is gets to her. With shaking hands, she tries to unlock her phone, but fails. Panic builds up in her like a tidal wave. This is it. The person who intruded her home will be in this room in less than two seconds. For a moment, she feels helpless. A whining cry emerging from her mouth all of the sudden when she starts to rummage the drawer next to her bed for her pepper spray. This is it. Her biggest nightmare is coming true. She can feel Benjamin jumping from his spot, seeming to feel the fear radiating from her. And just when she was about to scream, he just stands in the doorway. Him. The big, tall guy she knows so well. Within a second, she starts crying and he looks at her with utter confusion.

"Tay, what.."

"Why didn't you answer?!" she sobs yelling, immediately getting up. She feels so ridiculous all of the sudden. Ridiculous, ashamed, angry.

"What do you mean?" he just asks, standing there in his sweats in confusion, taking one of his AirPods out of his ears.

"I heard you come home and I called you and you didn't answer!" she says, tears streaming down her face. She's angry. Angry and terrified. For a moment, she really feared for her life.

"I.. I had my headphones in listening to a podcast. I'm sorry, babe. I didn't hear anything when I.."

"You know how scared I get when I'm alone in the house and.."

"Tay, I swear to god, if I had heard you, I would've.." "You can't just walk up the stairs in the middle of the night and not let me know that it is you." she says then, standing in front of him in nothing but his oversized tee, her long hair curly and in all directions, arms crossed and tears rolling down her cheeks. He feels horrible all of the sudden, notices her hands shaking uncontrollably when she tries to wipe away the tears from her cheek.

"Fuck, I.. I'm so sorry, Tay. I wasn't thinking..."

He's glad she's not yelling anymore. Glad she seems to listen finally.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to scare you. Come here." he mumbles, immediately pulling her in for a tight hug. His face quickly finds the spot he calls his home. His face in the crook of her neck, the smell of her skin entering his nose and wandering up to his blood stream. Coming home means coming to her. How could he ever forget. How could he forget this feeling for just a second? 

"I'm so so sorry, sweetie." he whispers into her skin a few times, beardy kisses tickling her neck. But all she does is hold on to him with closed eyes. She's safe again. She's finally safe again in his arms.

Travis pulls back, his two hands landing on her cheeks. She can see the shock in his eyes, too. He really didn't mean to scare her. She knows. Her hand wanders to his and she nods, her chin still trembling from before. Travis slowly leans down to plant his forehead against hers. He feels her take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. He gives her a few seconds, then comes closer to kiss her lips. For a moment, she enjoys his proximity. But then, she notices something else. A very particular smell.

"Have you been smoking?" she asks then, has pulled back and looks at him in confusion. Smoking weed is something he struggled with in school and college, she knows. But it's been something he has done only twice since she knows him. Both times were the night out after winning a Superbowl - a good excuse to pretty much do anything you would like to do to celebrate for the night. But aside from that, Travis pretty much stays away from anything intoxicating at all times. She knows that ending his career as an athlete means more food and alcohol freedom, but she isn't used to him coming home at almost two in the morning on a Tuesday evening smelling like weed. She knows she guessed right, when he just lets go off her face, takes a few steps around the bed to his side, and starts to take off his watch.

"Maybe." he says, and he knows she doesn't like it.

"Uhm.. okay, why?"

He looks at her in pure disbelief, letting out a low hissing sound and shaking his head.

"You're asking me why I smoked?" he says, and she knows this is not a question. He's mad at her for asking. And she's having none of it. Her arms are crossing instantly.

"Yes, I'm asking why you decided to smoke weed on a Tuesday evening."

"Well, mom, I went to celebrate my friend's Parker's fortieth birthday and we tried some of his cigars and then had some weed later on. Is that a problem for you?"

"Why didn't you take me to your friend's birthday party?" she clearly hates the fact that he just called her 'mom' but she won't get into this now. She doesn't understand why he didn't tell her about his plans earlier today. Doesn't understand why he didn't ask her to join him, the way he usually always does. 

Travis just snorts amusedly at her earlier comment, tiredly rubs his eyes while taking off his shirt.

"Baby, this was a boys only thing. None of the guys had their spouses there."

"Okay." she just replies, tries really hard to not make a big deal out of this. And she usually wouldn't. Two years ago, she would've welcomed him with open arms, giggling into his chest over the fact that he smells like an Irish pub on a week night. She would've asked him to walk half naked on a line to prove his alleged sobriety and probably couldn't wait to feel his naked body weight on hers in bed finally. This is how the old Taylor would have reacted. The version of herself that was imminently, ridiculously and uncontrollably in love with this man. Her best friend. Her man. Her future husband. 

The love of her life.

But two years ago, things were different than they are now. There were no texts left unresponded. No weekends in the same city spent apart. No absent of sex for over a week while sleeping in the same bed every night. He's depressed, absent, not himself at the moment. She knows. But she misses him. She misses his smile, his big hands, the happy sparkle in his eyes. She misses the man who always made an effort to be his best version for her. Not the shell of a person she finds standing across the room from her now. Absent, annoyed, almost...cold. 

She swallows, just watches him get ready for bed. 

"I thought you had to fly to LA tomorrow morning?" she asks then, following him into the bathroom where he stands half naked in front of the sink, brushing his teeth with two left hands. He's still high as hell, and there's no denying it. She can tell.

"Yup. Meetings."

"When are you gonna be back?"

"On the eleventh." he mumbles with his toothbrush in his mouth.

"Great. So you'll be gone for a good week and this is how we spend our last evening." she murmurs, obviously hurt and just steps bare feet back to bed. He sighs, rolls his eyes for a moment and follows her to bed as soon as he's dried his face.

"Tay, it's a week. I'm not going away for a month."

She doesn't say anything, just turns off her little night light and tucks herself into bed, facing away from him. She's annoyed, and he can tell. But he's way too out of it right now to have a serious conversation with her right now. It's not a big deal, and he doesn't understand why she has to turn this into one.

Travis snuggles into the sheets as well, sets his phone alarm and turns off the lights on his side, too. He lets himself fall into his pillow, then moves his arm to hold her close. From behind, his lips find their way back into her hair and remain there, kissing her head a few times.

"I'm sorry, baby. Don't be mad at me." he whispers and she sighs. She's not angry, she's sad. For whatever reason, all she can feel is worry and sadness.

"I'm not mad." she whispers back, her hand landing on his that is wrapped tightly around her torso. "I just miss you." she says then and he doesn't react, his lips stealing her naked shoulder one kiss. "I'm right here. I'll always be right here, Tay." he replies and she stays silent for a moment. 

"You're not." 

Travis doesn't move for a moment, then turns around in bed and managed to turn on the little night light again. 

"What's up?" he asks again, now sitting up in bed and looking at her. She's got watery eyes and he has no idea what is going on with her. She also slowly sits up now, her curls standing in all directions, which he loves so much. 

"Nothing. I just.. I'm worried about you." she says then, and he looks at her in confusion. 

"Why?" 

She hesitates for a moment, can't believe that he doesn't feel it, too. He must feel that something has changed, that their relationship has changed. But instead, he acts like it didn't. 

"I don't.. I don't feel as close to you anymore as I used to." she finally gets out, her eyes hyper focused on her hands now, her voice on the verge of breaking. She doesn't know where these emotions are suddenly coming from, but they're there. They're there and she feels them stinging in her chest. 

"Tay, what.. what are you talking about?" he replies now, feels worry rise in him for the first time tonight. He doesn't know where she's going with this, but for a moment it scares the living hell out of him. 

The blonde looks up at him, a little tear escaping her eye and making its way down her cheek. 

"I know that.. that you're just getting used to this new schedule of.. of no football and refocusing your life, and.. and I'm so proud of you." she says, her voice shaky but steady. She looks into his eyes, for the first time really tonight, a slight smile on her lips. 

"I'm really so proud of you and excited for what's to come. But.. sometimes, I feel like we're drifting apart, Trav. And.. and it scares me so much.." she murmurs, her voice breaking in the end. And he can't believe it. He can't believe her mind would even go there. 

Travis watches her pick her fingers and places his hands on hers, interlocking both of her hands with his. 

"Baby, we're not drifting apart. I love you." he says, looking deep into her eyes and she nods for a moment. She's still not happy and he knows it. 

"I know. And I love you, too." 

He sighs for a moment, hates to see her like this.

"Why do you think we're drifting apart? Where does this come from?" he asks, confusion and worry in his voice. She picks up on that quickly, and in some way it relieves her. He still cares. He really does. 

"I think.. I think our relationship has changed, which.. which is normal. I think the time leading up to.. up to getting married is always exciting and magical and then once that's over you sort of fall into this low where.. where things slow down and a marriage begins, and.. and life becomes normal again. And, trust me, I love that. I love just.. living life with you as my husband. It's just.. we never used to fight and we do now. And I know that's normal for couples, but.. we didn't have sex all week, Trav. All week. And.. this has been going on for months now. This.. this is the first time in three years, where..." 

He sighs, and she can't tell whether he's angry. All she can feel is him letting go off her hands and it breaks her heart for a moment. 

"Tay, I've told you that this has nothing to do with you or us, I.. I'm stressed. I.. I can't do it when my mind is just.. so busy. I-" he stops talking and this time, she's the one coming closer again. She gently places her small hands on his. She knows, she nods. 

"Hey, I know. I'm sorry for bringing it up. I just wish I'd know what is going on in your mind, so I can help you. You.. you always used to let me in. I just... I want you to let me in again." she said, got more and more quieter in the end. He looks into her eyes, for real for the first time tonight, and the look he gives her almost breaks her soul. Tears form in his eyes, his chin starts trembling as he starts to speak but stops again for a moment, trying to collect himself. She immediately places her hand on his cheek, won't stop looking at him. This is him opening up. This is him finally opening up.

"I just feel so different, Tay." he then gets out, his face sunk, a first tear meeting her hand on his cheek. "I'm not.. I'm not me anymore since..." 

She nods, immediately. She knows what he means and she feels his pain as if it was hers. 

"I know, baby." she just says, doesn't argue with him, doesn't force him to be fine again. She's just here, sitting on his lap in the middle of the night, holding his face and listening to him crying. 

"Everything feels so meaningless. I used to be.. like.. great at something. Now, I'm mediocre at everything. And.." 

"You're not mediocre, Travis." she says, almost mad for a moment that he would talk about him like that. "You're.. funny, charismatic, smart. Things that.. things that people go to acting school for comes to you naturally. That's not.." 

"I just.. I just don't think I want to be an actor, Tay." he says then, his eyes desperate and lost, just looking at her for help. She's never heard him say these words and in a way, she never thought they would ever cross his lips. This has always been his plan. Ever since she met him, this was his post-football plan. 

"That's okay." she just says, her hand still caressing his stubbly cheek. "Whatever you want to do, I'm with you. I'm not team Chiefs, or team Actor, I'm team Trav. Whatever you want to do, baby, I will support you." she reassures him and he nods, just sinks his head. For a moment, she comes closer to him and kisses his forehead gently. She can feel his grip tighten around her torso. He needs her. He pushes her away when in reality he needs her more than ever. 

"I just don't even know what I want to do. I'm just.. lost." he whispers, half to himself, half to her. She swallows. This is officially the lowest she's ever seen him. And it scares her. It scares her to witness the rock of her life to be so helpless and small all of the sudden. 

"You're not lost. You're here. With me." she whispers, her hands now on his shoulders, forcing him to look up. She forces a smile to reassure him, then places another kiss on his head. 

"You're more than your career, Trav. It's okay to get some distance to it all. Let's take a break together. Let's.. travel somewhere, just you and me." she says, her eyes full of stars for a moment when imagining him and her on adventures together. It reminds her of the summer two years ago when he followed her around Europe for tour. Late night walks through Italy, bike rides at night in Amsterdam, laughing with him at the sausage museum in Germany. He's always been her favorite person in the whole world and she would do anything, take him anywhere, just to see his smile one more time. 

"I don't know, Tay. I don't think running away will help me. Or us." he just gets out and it sobers her for a moment. 

"Maybe this is it, Trav." she says then, can't believe her brain has gone there. But it did. And she even found the courage to let these words slip her mouth while looking into his eyes and being so close to him. 

"What?" he whispers, because she's so close. Their noses are almost touching and he loves to feel her hot skin under his shirt that she's wearing. 

"Maybe this is.. this is the time where.. we actually do what we always used to talk about." 

"Why do you talk in riddles, Swift?" 

She snorts laughing nervously for a moment, her hands playing with his hair, then wiping away one last tear from his cheek. 

"Let's make a baby." she says, nervously biting her own lip. He just looks at her in shock and confusion. 

"You... what?" 

She smiles, takes a deep shaky breath. "I.. I don't know, but.. we always said once you retire and we're married we would start a family. And.. lately, I don't know. I just.. I feel ready, Trav. I'm not scared anymore. I want us to be an actual family. Not just us and the cats. Just.. a real family. And before you, I could never see myself even wanting that. But maybe, you being unsure where to go next, and me just.. trying out stuff in the studio without direction.. I don't know, maybe this is the right time to.." 

"Have you absolutely lost your mind?" he just says and for a moment, she feels like she didn't hear him right. 

"What?" she says in shock, as he already has let go off her and left the bed, leaving her in between the sheets cold and alone. 

"You.. you must have absolutely lost your mind for saying this." he mumbles, angrier than she's ever witnessed him, pacing up and down their bedroom, trying to make sense of what she just said. "What.. Trav, why.." 

"I'm.. I'm sitting here, in your arms like.. like a goddamn looser. Crying like a little girl, telling you how lost I'm feeling and.. and you tell me this is the right time for me to become a father? Are you.. are you even serious right now?" 

She looks at him in shock, pain swelling in her chest and tears filling her eyes once more. 

"I don't see why you wouldn't be a good father, Trav."

"That's not the fucking point!" he yells at her and for the first time in her life, she gets scared. Scared of his tone, scared of his anger, scared of how unexpected he reacted. It's quite the opposite of how he used to make her feel. Quite the opposite of the familiarity and emotional safety she used to know when it came to him. 

"Stop yelling at me. I'm scared." she mumbles with a shaky voice and he just stops wandering around the room, his hands covering his eyes. He nods. 

"I'm sorry for yelling." he says then and she can hear in his voice that he's tearing up. She's shocked. This is not her husband. This is not the person she knows and loves so deeply. 

"Tay, this.. I just can't believe you would think that this is.." 

"Why not? Why is it so fucking wrong of me to suggest this? I'm almost thirty-seven. I can't.. I won't be able to get pregnant forever. And you know that. And.." Taylor is the one getting loud and emotional now, almost unable to stay in bed. She's shaking, her entire body feeling the anxiety of this moment. This was their plan. Why is he not sticking to their plan. 

"Trav, I know you're struggling at the moment. And you know I'm here for you. But.. your reaction to me suggesting this, is just.. shocking." she says, a first tear rolling down her cheek. She swallows, looks at him with begging eyes. Begging for him to become her everything again. Begging for him to fall on his knees, apologize, and tell her he can't wait for them to have a baby. That he was wrong. That he's just scared. 

But none of that happens. 

He just sits down on her bedside, still unable to look at her. But he has calmed down. His voice quiet and steady now. 

"Tay, you know I love you. You know I want to have kids with you. I just... I'm not ready to become a father right now when my career is just.. a fucking mess. This is the first season I won't be playing. I have no clue where I'll be a year from now. And.." 

"Are you ever going to be ready to have kids with me then?" she says, tears streaming down her face. She can't believe this. She can't believe he wants her to keep waiting. She can't believe he won't choose their dreams, their plans, their family. He chooses the gods of his bluest days and leaves her alone. With their dreams, their plans, their little family that she's been day dreaming about for four years.

"I want to, Tay. It's just.. how can I take care of a human when I can't even take care of myself at the moment." 

She looks at him, nods. She presses her lips together, trying to suppress her tears, her anger. 

She's heard these words before. 

"I didn't mean to yell, earlier. That was.. that was out of line. I know you.. you mean well, but.." 

"It's.. it's fine." she lies, slowly pulling the blanket from her legs and leaving the bed. "I just.. I need.. some air for a moment.." 

Travis just looks at her and sighs as she leaves the bedroom. His head sinks in his hands and he feels hot tears streaming down his face. He knows he fucked up. He knows that his anger at himself just did more damage to the only person he's ever loved than he would have ever intended. 

To be continued.

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Later’s better than never… right?

Ten years ago, Simon and you met at the same therapeutic boarding school. You fought, he said some shit, he left. He thought he’d never see you again.

Until one day, a hospital calls and informs him that you’ve listed him as your emergency contact.

(title from the song by Lana Del Rey)

-

Tags: mental illness, abuse, addiction, self harm, suicidality/suicidal ideation/suicide attempts, angsty shit in general, Ghost being very mean as a fucked up 17 year old boy

There’s an old battered flip phone he hides in the back of his locker wherever he’s deployed. Ghost doesn’t turn it on all that often. Everyone who knows the number is dead.

But sometimes he does, just to stare at the contacts and click through the photos and remember what it was like to talk to them.

Today is one of those days.

He can only take so much talk from his team about families, friends, dogs waiting back home, and pretty girls before feeling the urge to break things.

So he excuses himself to hide in the bathroom like a fucking pussy and takes the phone with him. Simon can pretend he’s waiting for his own phone call from people who love him for a few minutes. Then he promises himself that he’ll put it away and not touch it for another six months.

It takes forever to power on. It’s still janky from the last time Ghost threw it at a wall, it seems.

One (1) missed call.

…What?

They left a voicemail.

His fingers shake as he listens to it.

There’s a long, tinny beep. “Hi, Mr. Riley, I’m…” A woman says in a rushed, businesslike manner. “I’m one of the nurses at-“ Ghost hears a bustle of background noise; faint murmurs, emergency sirens, doors sliding open and shut. “…Hospital. I’m calling because a friend of yours,” The nurse says your name. A name he hasn’t thought about in years. “…Put you down as her emergency contact when we admitted her to our psychiatric inpatient ward. Unfortunately, she did not provide us with anyone else. Please give me a call back at this number if you’d like to speak with her.” Click.

Ghost starts packing an overnight bag before he even realizes it.

Then he’s on a plane.

-

TEN YEARS AGO

“I hate you.”

You’re crying as you run after him in the forest. He speeds up, trying to lose you in the trees. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Simon. I’ll never bring it up again.” Snot covers your upper lip and your eyes are bright with tears.

He hates this fucking place. He hates this fucking school, the kilometers of wilderness separating him from his life because the fucking shrinks think he’s crazy. He hates you for trying to keep him here.

And just when Simon was about to fly the coop, you spilled the beans. “Leave me the fuck alone. Never, ever, ever talk to me again,” He barks, stopping abruptly and turning to loom over you.

When you reach for his hand, he slaps you away. “But you promised you wouldn’t leave-“ You end up on the ground, the pine needles biting into your bare knees as if Simon shoved you.

That makes him angrier. You’re too soft for a world like this. You’re practically begging for someone to hurt you again, someone like him, with your vulnerability and open, bleeding heart. Well, he’ll fucking oblige. You’re not strong like you think you are. You’re the weakest person he knows, and weakness is something Simon could never respect.

“I lied. I fucking lied, you dumb bitch. Didn’t you realize it?” Simon snarls, wishing desperately he’d never let you befriend him on his first day at this therapeutic program.

You're sunshine and innocence and friendship bracelets, the kind of girl who will always be a victim because this world devours little girls like you. Simon is nothing like you. Simon is a survivor. A warrior. Simon is steel where you are china.

Your American accent is almost as unbearable as your pathetic weeping. “…What?” Your bottom lip wobbles.

Hopefully this will teach you a lesson about tattling. Nobody likes a snitch. “Forever doesn’t fucking exist. You were the only tolerable person in this shithole, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to be friends forever. What are you, a fucking infant? God, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” If anything, Simon is letting you off easy. You told the counselor things Simon told you in confidence about his dad because you were ‘afraid for his safety.’

But you just don’t get it. Simon can’t spend another day here. And the longer he stays, the angrier his dad will get. You just earned him another week of shit and black eyes.

“Newsflash. People lie. Everyone’s been lying to you. Nobody likes you, not even your mum. And I can’t stand you. You were useful, but I don’t need you anymore. I’m better,” Simon hisses as cruelly as he can, using every blade in his arsenal to cut at the sensitive parts of you where he knows you’ll bleed. Just like you did when you told.

You’re only stuck in this place because your mum left you here. You don’t have anyone, not like he does. He has Tommy and his mum. He has a future. You’ve got absolutely fucking nothing.

“I was just trying to help.”

“I’m getting out of here. I don’t need your help. I’d tell you to keep it, but it wouldn’t even help you.” Simon pauses. You’ve stopped crying. Good. A crying fox is easy prey for the hunting dogs. “They won't believe you. And you wanna know why?” It feels good to be the hunter instead of the fox for once. You make excellent prey.

“‘Cause I told them the truth. That you’re an obsessed freak who’s hyper fixated on me and you’d do anything to keep me here. That you’re a sick, compulsive liar and that you’re the one who’s a danger to herself, not me.”

You fall silent. Finally, blessed silence. You look up at Simon with glazed eyes and a still tongue. He feels better. Good, even.

“Goodbye. I hope I never see you again,” Simon says flatly.

-

TODAY

You picked a good place to get yourself locked up in. This is one of the nicest hospitals Ghost has been in recently. Shiny floors, no dirt caking the walls. New York City puts Kabul and Moscow to shame.

He’s wearing a plain black balaclava. Nothing identifying or particularly memorable. This is going to be a short visit. Ghost will see what you want and then leave. That’s it.

You look tired, exhausted to the very bone.

None of the shiny pinkness that drew Ghost to you in the beginning when you were fifteen and he was seventeen. None of the glow, the round cheeks, the wide doe eyes.

There’s dark circles chiseled into your face, so dark he almost thinks they’re bruises. A couple of IV bags run through a drip hidden under bandages covering your arms from wrist to elbow. Your eyes are as quiet as you are. A couple of marbles would be more lively. You look almost like a doll forgotten in a corner.

The nurse gave Ghost the run-down as she guided him to your bed. Police picked you up on a bridge trying to off yourself. Your fifth time this year. Unless you show some real improvement, the doctors will recommend an indefinite hospitalization.

You’ve been busy in the decade of his absence. Multiple addictions, more attempts than he can count, and some small stints in jail. A list of disorders he wouldn’t know how to pronounce. And nobody left to call.

Is this his fault?

When Ghost rounds the corner, you smile like he should be proud of you. “You came,” You say.

I have absolutely no business starting a new fic. Absolutely none. Idk. I have brainrot. No clue when this will be updated. But here, have it.

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine - Chapter five: “Our flaws are who we really are”

Summary: Spencer and (Y/N) have to return to work, and for once, the idea isn't appealing to any of them. There is a new member in the team...  Word count: 6.010 Warnings: Nothing but some Criminal Minds case info and some curses. A/N:  Is it weird to consider a 6K words chapter "short"?

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(Y/N)’s point of view

Because being a mother, a wife, an FBI S.S.A. and part of the BAU wasn’t stressful enough, I decided to finish my Ph.D. after Raven was born. I still had one more year left, but my husband supported me to fish it.

After getting shot in the neck that year, Spencer took a month off and we returned to the BAU together. I will never forget the first day we left Raven with my mom at our place. Spencer wouldn’t let our baby go that morning. We were standing in the middle of our living room, mom stared at us, nearly chuckling, as my husband kept talking to Raven, explaining what would happen.

- “So, remember what I told you, Raven. You are going to stay here with your Nana until we come back from work. If things go well, we won’t go out of town on a case today.”

- “Things are going to go well.”- Mom pointed out, but I guess neither of us was paying attention to her. I kissed Raven’s forehead one more time and sighed.

- “I love you, birdie. Be good with Nana, ok?”

- “She is three months old. She can’t be naughty.”- Mom added, chortling.

- “She can. Trust me.”- I turned to her and shook my head.

- “Ok kids, you are running late. Give me my granddaughter.”- Mom stood next to us and reached out her arms to grab Raven. But Spencer didn’t move. He held our baby closer to his chest and sighed, staring at her big, brown eyes.

- “I love you so much.”- he whispered against her forehead as he kissed her carefully.- “Dad will be thinking of you all day long.”

It melted my heart to watch him being so loving and sweet with our baby girl. I always knew he was going to be a good dad, but watching him in action was a completely different thing. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. I knew he didn’t want to leave her alone, because of course, neither did I. But we had to.

Mom walked to him and literally took Raven from his hands. Spencer looked at her and frowned, ready to argue. But stopped himself in his tracks. He knew he had to let her go that morning, even when it hurt.

- “We are going to be fine.”- mom assured us with a big smile. - “I’ll call you at noon, and you can text me whenever you want. Now go there and be heroes. Make your baby proud.”

And I guess, that’s something Spencer loves doing, ‘cos after he kissed Raven one last time, he held my hand and headed to the door.

- “Did you realize this is the longest we’ve been alone in over three months?”- I said as I sipped my coffee, and watched Spencer smiling as he drove us to work.

- “I know. It’s weird.”- he replied and chuckled. - “We should get more mommy and daddy alone time.”- I raised an eyebrow as I heard those words and opened my mouth to tease him about his kinks, but the phone interrupted me and made me skip a bit.

- “Is it your mom?”- Spencer asked right away.

- “No, it’s Garcia. Hey Pen, what is it?”

- “Are you guys coming?”- she asked right away.

- “Yeah, we just got late waiting for my mom, ‘cos she is staying with Raven. Why? Do we have a case?”

- “No, I’m just making sure you two are coming today. We miss you.”- I giggled and shook my head, though I knew Penelope couldn’t see me.

- “We’ll be there in ten.”

- “Everything ok?”- my husband asked. - “Do we have to go straight to the jet?”

- “No, she was just anxious to know if we were coming.”

- “I hope she baked us cupcakes.”

- “I’m sure she did.”- I replied and rubbed his leg with my left hand as he drove. We hummed to the song on the radio, the first non-kid song we had heard in weeks, and we drank our mugs of coffee as we got to work.

- “I miss her already.”- I whispered after a few minutes of silence.

- “I didn’t want to tell you, but I miss her too.”- Spencer replied and we both sighed.

- “But she is going to be ok.”- I assured her- “Mom is a pro.”

- “Yeah, I know. I’m glad Sofia can help us, otherwise, I would have lost my mind. I could never leave her at daycare. I would have rather taken her to the BAU with us than leave her with strangers.”

- “You know we will have to send her to school eventually.”- I teased Spencer and tried not to laugh as he parked in our old parking spot at work and neither of us moved for a few seconds.

- “I know she will eventually have to go to school, but I am not ready to think of that today.”- my husband whispered. I looked at him and nodded, holding his hand.

- “One day at a time.”- I replied and cut him a smile.

- “One day at a time.”- he repeated and leaned in to crush his mouth on mine. His kiss was sweet and slow, he took his time, rubbing his lips against mine and tasting me.

- “Come on kid!!”- and of course, Morgan had to ruin it all. - “Let the lady go and get to work!”- he teased as he knocked on our window, nearly killing us with a heart attack.

- “We hadn’t had a minute alone since Raven was born, and you had to interrupt us!”- I argued as soon as I stepped out of the car. Derek chuckled and opened his arms, giving me a triple hug before I could continue talking.

- “I missed you, pretty girl. How is my baby girl?”

- “She is so big! She started grabbing everything and putting it in her mouth. She is so cute!”- I quickly replied and nearly took my phone to show him the million pictures we had. But I stopped on time. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to be that kind of mom, pushing their baby pictures on everybody’s face. I always hated that, and I didn’t want people to hate me as well. At that minute, all I really wanted was to come back to work and find everything just as we had left it.

Of course, it wasn’t. The only constant at the BAU, I guess, was change.

Garcia was, in fact, waiting for us with homemade cupcakes and cookies. That was the sweet part of our morning. Then came the meeting with Hotch, to catch up with everything that had happened when we had been away. He told us about Alex Blake’s departure, how she had quit the FBI and decided to move to Boston, with her husband, and teach full-time. We both knew it, she had called us to deliver the news before leaving, and though we invited her over, I knew it was too much for her to see Spencer again. She had developed a motherly bond with him, and watching him get hurt had pulled a string in her. One she didn’t want to relive. I guess some wounds are not meant to heal. The BAU can cause you that.

- “And are we getting a new teammate?”- I asked Hotch, and he nodded immediately.

- “Yes, but so far I’ve interviewed nine people, and I still haven’t found the right one.”

- “Nine? Have you tried with someone we know? Maybe bringing back Emily.”- Spencer suggested, reading my mind.

- “I already tried, she is not interested at the moment. But if things go well tomorrow, we might get a new member. Despite all that, today you just have to worry about catching up with work. You’ve been out for a long while, and we needed you back.”

- “We are ready.”- I replied and stood up from my chair right away. - “Anything else, sir?”

- “I just wanted to make it clear I can’t keep any of you in Quantico anymore. You’ll have to start traveling to the cases with us. Are you both ready for that?”

I knew neither of us wanted to do it, but we had to. It was our job, and we had to do it. So we agreed, stood up, and walked back to our desks.

- “We missed you here.”- JJ said from her desk and smiled at us. - “It was too quiet without your facts, Spence.”

- “It’s nice coming back.”- my husband replied with a warm smile. I looked at him and sighed at the sight of the pictures on his desk. He had three family pictures framed, one from our wedding, one from our first Comic Con together a million years ago, and one with Raven. Our first picture as a family. My phone hummed and a picture of mom and Raven playing made my day. So I walked to my husband and interrupted whatever he was talking about with JJ to show him the picture. He smiled and chuckled, pleased to see our baby girl was having a good time with her grandma.

Spencer’s point of view

Going back to work after Raven was born was a mistake. Now that I see it in retrospect, that was the moment we should have stopped. I could have started teaching full-time, like (Y/N) wanted me to do. And she would have finished her Ph.D. and might even have taught with me. We could have had a different life. More calm, at home. We wouldn’t have missed all the important moments in Raven’s life like we did. We would have been there when she needed us.

We wouldn't have ended as wounded as we did. With more emotional scars than we could ever deal with. On the bright side, at least we are still together. Despite the hell we went through.

The newest team member was Kate Callahan. We had seen her around in some FBI get-togethers like the time we all did karaoke at Rossi’s favorite bar. (Y/N) remembered that when we bumped into her the following morning, at the elevator.

- “You were singing karaoke at the Benjamin the night it closed.”- (Y/N) pointed out as the three of us shared the elevator on our way to the 6th floor. That’s how I guessed Hotch was about to interview her for the position.

- “I was! Good memory.”- Kate smiled at us and added - “Billy Joel might have died a little that night.”

- “Sadly he was not the only one.”- I replied and chuckled. - “He got the team started, but we went on to do a six-song set.”

- “The 80s took a fatal hit if I remember correctly.”- Kate said, chuckling along with my wife, and somehow I realized Kate would make an amazing match with ma cherie. They shared a very similar sarcastic sense of humor.

- “Have you seen the place that took over?”- she asked us and both of us shook our heads at the same time. Since we had turned into parents, our social life was basically nonexistent. - “It's like techno and twerking.”

- “It's not really my crowd.”- I replied and Kate turned to me immediately, shocked by my answer.

- “What? You don't twerk?”- I frowned and shook my head, somehow embarrassed by my own answer. Meanwhile, my wife had to cover her mouth so as not to laugh in my face.

- “I was... I was kidding.”- Kate explained, surprised I hadn’t got it. - “I don't twerk.”

- “Neither do we, don't worry”- my wife added and chuckled. The three of us walked out of the elevator and I hurried to open the door for Kate and my wife.

- “Ah. A gentleman and a scholar.”- Callahan pointed out and I just smiled.

- “Agent Hotchner's office is the first one at the top of the stairs.”- I said and though she looked at me confused I knew why she was there, she just thanked me and walked away.

- “Good luck!”- (Y/N) said and smiled at her. Kate nodded and disappeared.

- “We have to schedule Raven’s next pediatrician appointment.”- I said, leaving my things on my desk and turning to look at my wife, who just nodded. - “I’ll call the doctor's office at lunchtime, ok?”-I wrote it down though I knew I wasn’t going to forget it. (Y/N) simply stared at me and sighed.

- “Let’s pray we are in town to take Raven to that appointment. I don’t wanna miss it.”- I was about to tell my wife we couldn’t foresee how things would go in the BAU when Rossi, JJ, Penelope, and Derek walked into the bullpen, all of them talking at the same time.

- “Hotch talked to Emily.”- JJ announced and I turned to my wife knowing Em wasn’t planning on returning to the team.

- “And?”- Garcia was clearly excited by what she had just heard.

- “She just doesn't want to come back.”- Rossi killed all her hopes with just one sentence. I took a few steps closer to the team as I heard Pen arguing with David’s words.

- “Why? She loves us!”

- “For what it's worth, Hotch is interviewing someone we've met before.”- I announced and (Y/N) nodded.

- “He is?”- JJ asked right away and everybody turned to Hotch’s office to try to catch a glimpse of the candidate.

- “Yes. And it’s someone we actually like”- (Y/N) added from her desk. I turned to her and she smiled back.

- “How many candidates is that now?”- Derek asked

- “This one makes lucky number 10.”- Rossi announced and my Garcia turned to him shocked.

- “Ten candidates? Are you for real? And no one ever mentioned that? See, this is what happens when I don't sleep. I miss things.”- Pen whispered and I wondered why she wasn't sleeping well. But I didn’t get to ask, she just continued talking. - “Now can someone tell me who this person is? Are they nice? Why is that the first question I always ask?”

Pen started rambling as my wife explained we had bumped into agent Callahan on the way over. All of our friends nodded as she told us what had happened until JJ mentioned the one fact I wished we all could have forgotten.

- “Didn’t she use to work with Seaver? At Andy Swan’s Unit?”

- “What?”- (Y/N) asked as her face fell- “She is Seaver’s friend?”

- “You know, pretty girl, that simple fact doesn’t mean she has to be your enemy.”- Derek explained with a silly grin on his face. (Y/N) just turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

- “Of course, it doesn’t”.- she whispered and made a short pause before she added - “But did you just meet me or what?”- I looked at my wife and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled and shook her head.

- “You already liked her, face it.”- I whispered and (Y/N) sighed.

- “Yeah… but what if Seaver talked shit about me ‘cos I was mean to her when she was part of the team.”

- “Then she wouldn’t be lying.”- JJ replied and my wife glared at her immediately- “What? you know you weren’t nice.”

- “I know that, but you weren’t here to witness the whole deal, so you don’t know the whole story.”- the way (Y/N) nearly spat those words on JJ’s face left me speechless. And JJ didn’t know how to react either. So she just turned around and looked at me, shocked.

- “Come on, don’t argue.”- Pen said and stood between JJ and my wife. - “We have to stay together, we are a team, and we might be getting a new member.”- her cell phone finished her speech and her face went pale in a second.

- “What is it?”- Rossi asked, noticing her change.

- “The Bakersfield’s unsub killed again.”- she mumbled and started walking, she had to tell Hotch.

I looked at (Y/N) and she sighed. She knew she had been rude to JJ, though her comment hadn’t been the best either.

- “I’m sorry I snapped”- (Y/N) said and cut JJ a short smile. She was being honest, and I knew it was hard for her to deal with apologies.

- “I’m sorry too, I know it was a hard moment for you… I shouldn’t have said that.”- JJ rubbed her arms as she stared at my wife, and the two of them nodded.

- “Come on, we have a case.”- Rossi said and started walking to the briefing room, I waited for (Y/N) to grab her things and followed her.

- “Everyone, this is SSA Kate Callahan from Andy Swan's unit. She'll be joining the team.”- Hotch announced as soon as he walked into the room with Callahan, who waved at us with a grin.

- “Congratulations.”- I smiled at her as she sat at the other side of the table.

- “How are Andy and Seaver doing?”- Morgan asked her.

- “Oh, they're great and they say hello. They told me a lot about all of you.”- Kate said with a cheerful voice, and the entire team stared at my wife, who just nodded at Callahan with a warm smile, ignoring them. They weren't being subtle at all, and (Y/N) knew it.

- “We can get started.”- Hotch said and Pen started presenting the case.

(Y/N)’s point of view

It was sad knowing Prentiss didn’t want to come back to the team. I knew she loved her job at Interpol, but I always hoped one day she’d return to us. I was also feeling weird about JJ. I didn’t have any logical reason to snap at her the way I did, but something inside of me felt uneasy about her. However, she was my friend, so I did my best to put that feeling aside and be nicer to her. I know when I’m upset I can be incredibly hurtful, and that’s no way to treat a friend.

I called my mom as we gathered our things to get to the plane and announced to her we were heading to California.

- “We have been consulting on this case, and this guy just dumped the third body, so we are heading over right now.”- I explained as I grabbed my casefile, purse and looked at Spencer.

- “Take care, peanut. I will keep you posted on this beautiful baby girl.”- mom said and I heard her kissing my daughter’s cheeks.

- “Thank you, mom. I love you.”- I sighed after I hung up and shook my head. - “I hate leaving her behind.”

- “I know. Me too.”- Spencer whispered and held my hand- “Let’s hope we catch this guy fast.”

That day, Hotch paired me with Rossi and Kate. And guess what? I enjoyed it more than I imagined I would, considering we were trying to catch a serial killer. But Callahan was a great addition to the team. She was fun witty and incredibly smart. She had amazing comebacks to any random comment I would make. Three hours in the field and we were besties already. That made me feel more confident about anything that Seaver might have said to her about me.

We were back at the police station. Spencer was working on the geographic profile and Garcia was on the phone from Virginia, updating us on the number of websites that she found on the deep web where our suspect got to buy limbs from the victims. He wasn’t the unsub we were looking for, just… a weirdo with a problem. At least we already had a profile, and it felt like we were a little closer to catching our guy.

- “You'd think after 10 years I'd seen it all.”- Garcia sighed through the line. I knew she was definitely shocked by what she had found on those sites. It was sick, to be honest.

- “How many sites are there, mama?”- Derek asked her as I stared at the board my husband was working on. I was sitting at the other side of the table, next to Kate, going through the case file again.

- “Hundreds. And that gem of a fellow you've got in custody has looked at all of them at one time or another.”- Garcia explained.

- “I’m guessing there is no lead to get our unsub, right?”- I asked her and Pen automatically explained there wasn’t.

- “Anonymity is huge for these sites. They use a Tor network, which is an onion router. The point is, you're not gonna be able to find anyone this way. Do you know there are actual variations on a disarticulation fetish?”- my friend sighed at the other side of the line and whispered. - “I need baby kitten pics asap.”

- “Oh! Have you seen the hippo who lives with the family?”- Kate asked out of the blue, and I turned to her confused.

- “What?”- Garcia asked right away.

- “Sleeps with a blanket, gets massages, eats better than I do.”- Kate explained and looked at me nodding.

- “Where is that?”- Pen questioned and I could almost picture her face as she googled it.

- “South Africa. It's amazing.”- Kate explained. Morgan and Spencer turned to us and raised an eyebrow as Garcia got hyperventilated at the other side of the line and continued talking.

- “Trust me, I have an arsenal of cuteness. Have you seen the one with the baby elephant…”

- “Oh, with the baby chicks?”- Kate interrupted her, excited as well

- “Yes, I love that one!”

- “I love the one with the kitten cuddling with a baby, it’s so cute!”- I added and both Kate and Pen agreed with me, very enthusiastically. - "I keep telling Spencer we should get a kitten for Raven to grow up with, but he is..."

- “Uh, hey, you guys?”- Spencer looked at us from the board and I nodded.

- “Sorry. Sorry.”- the three of us said at the same time as my husband took us all back to work.

- “The most recent victim was taken from Riverside.”- he pointed out. - “That's more than 2 1/2 hours away from here.”

- “So his comfort zone isn't limited to here.”- Morgan added.

- “That's not good. He's got a lot more confidence than we thought.”- Kate said as I nodded.

- “Yeah, but this area has to mean something to him.”- I pointed out and Morgan supported my words.

- “Yes, he's leaving vics here, so he must have some connection to Bakersfield.”

- “The M.E. says he's gotten better at ligating each victim, which means he may have had practice.”- Spencer pointed out as he walked closer to the table and stood next to me.

- “On what?”- Morgan asked

- “We didn't originally profile him as an acrotomophile, but that sort of attraction typically has deep roots in childhood.”- my husband added.

- “That makes sense, maybe growing up he was constantly around dead bodies. Maybe his family had a funeral home.”- I said and my husband nodded at my words.

- “Exactly, it wasn't that big of a leap for him.”- Kate added, supporting my thoughts.

- “It could be. We know he wasn't social enough to continue the family tradition, so maybe he found work in a morgue or a hospital.”- Morgan pointed out.

- “When you say work…”- Garcia asked right away.

- “Security guard, janitor, anything entry level.”- I explained to her and heard her typing as I spoke.

- “Uh, the UC system has a medical facility in Bakersfield.”- she announced in a few seconds.

- “Anyone fired recently?”- Spencer asked him.

- “No, but there's an anatomy Professor on sabbatical.”

- “What's his name?” I asked and grabbed a pen right away.

- “Dylan Myers.”

The team went to the suspect’s house and left me and Spencer at the police station. I wasn’t complaining that time, I didn’t want to go. A part of my brain was relieved neither of us was in danger during that case. I wanted to go back home and hold my baby, hopefully, that very same night.

That last part was probably not going to happen when we got a call from Hotch, telling us the unsub wasn’t there. So the search for a secondary location started. However, Garcia had nothing on the guy, and the search was turning incredibly frustrating.

I was at the kitchenette in the police station, pouring a fresh cup of coffee for Spencer. He was a few feet away from me, reading the M.E. reports one more time. That was when I saw him reach the bullet scar on his neck and rub it. He would do it from time to time, I was sure it hurt, though he always denied it. Surely, he didn’t want to worry me. But nevertheless, I was worried. The fear of getting hurt or even worse had always been at the back of my brain, since I joined the BAU. But now that I was a mother, facing my own mortality was harder than ever.

- “Kid? Are you ok?”- I heard Morgan ask my husband as he walked into the room. I grabbed the cup I had poured for Spencer and headed in their direction.

- “Yeah. You?”- he replied, pretending nothing was bothering him. And Derek acted like he didn’t notice. A dangerous game to play at the BAU, if you ask me.

- “Just tired.”

- “Here hon.”- I gave my husband his cup of coffee and he sat straight on his chair right away, acting as if he wasn’t in pain at all. That was still upsetting to me, knowing Spencer wouldn’t be honest about those tiny things because he still wanted to protect me.

- “Dr. Lee sent this over. The most recent victim had more than just leather particulates in her stomach.”- Spencer explained to Morgan as I sat next to him and went through the file again. - “She chewed through it, leaving entire chunks behind. She also found traces of horse hair. He's using a bridle.”

- “This guy could have used anything. Why that?”- Morgan questioned and Spencer tried to get an answer.

- “It's either specific to his fantasy or something he had easy access to.”

- “How many horse ranches are around here?”- Derek asked my husband, but before he could reply, I said:

- “One hundred and thirty-four.”- Morgan frowned and turned to me as Spencer smiled and looked at the M.E report in his hands.

- “You are spending too much time with your husband, I’m gonna ask Hotch to pair us together instead.”- the phone interrupted our conversation, and speak of the devil, it was Hotch, with shocking news. Our suspect David Myers wasn’t actually the unsub, but his first victim and the killer had framed him.

- “That’s what I call a plot twist”- I whispered as I heard Hotch’s explanation.

- “He took out a lot of rage on this man for a reason.”- our Unit Chief added.

- “Maybe this Dylan Myers stood in the way of the unsub's true object of affection.”- Spencer suggested.

- “Well, it makes sense since we thought the first and second victims were connected.”- I added, but Spencer quickly shook his head.

- “Only Dylan Myers was single.”

- “Garcia, was Dylan Myers dating anyone?”- Hotch asked at the other side of the line.

- “He was a bit of a hermit, and like I said, zero social media skills. Did go old school with a landline. Tracking his frequently called numbers. He called a young woman named Christine Locke several times. She's a former student, lives in Bakersfield.”- Garcia made a pause and somehow, we all knew exactly what she was going to say next. - “And she's missing. Sending you her picture now.”

We stared at our cell phone’s screen and watched the image of a young blond girl appear in front of us.

- “She looks like the second victim.”- I whispered and looked at my husband for a moment, he was frowning, trying to connect the dots in this crime. If you ask me, he was desperate to crack it and go back home.

- “Did she have a restraining order out on anyone?”- Hotch asked.

- “Checking now.”- Garcia replied and typed as fast as she could. - “Uh, yes. She filed for and was granted a restraining order on August 6 from Steven Parkett.”

- “And where is he?”- I asked quickly, and Pen answered in a second.

- “Probably on his way to hell in a handbasket, munchkin. He was raised and lives at a cattle ranch and slaughterhouse in Bishopville just outside of Bakersfield. Sending you the coordinates now.”

The team got the killer, and before we knew it, we were on the plane, on our way back home. JJ and Morgan welcomed Kate with a long speech about their battle scars, that made me chuckle from the other side of the plane, at least the few minutes it lasted, ‘cos soon everybody around me was snoring. Everyone but me. Somehow I couldn’t close my eyes. I was too excited about going back home and holding my daughter in my arms. So I stood up carefully, trying not to wake Spencer, who was softly snoring next to me, and walked to the kitchenette to make myself a cup of tea.

The water hadn’t boiled yet when Kate appeared next to me, and cut me a short smile, clearly still half asleep.

- “Is there enough water in that pot for another tea?”- she whispered and I chuckled.

- “The correct question would be: is there enough tea in this plane to keep you awake?”- I answered and Kate Callahan laughed under her breath, trying not to wake any of our teammates.

- “Pick your favorite.”- I whispered and handed her a box with different kinds of teas- “If you need help, I can tell you my favorite pick to keep me awake during trips is Earl Gray.”

- “Earl Gray it is.”- she grabbed one bag and put it in an empty mug. We both stayed quiet for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a little weird. We hadn’t actually been alone since we met, technically 48 hours earlier.

- “So why don’t you wanna sleep?”- I finally asked her, pouring the hot boiling water in her cup.

- “I can’t stop thinking about the case.”- she simply replied and smiled at me.- “How do you deal with catching a different serial killer every week and not… taking it with you?”

- “That’s a good question. I don’t know how we do it, actually.”- I answered and grabbed my cup with both hands, feeling the warmth against my cold skin right away.

- “Seaver told me a lot about the team when she transferred.”

And there it was, the pink elephant in the room. I bit my lips and looked at Kate, waiting for a snarky comment, a complaint, maybe a threat not to be mean to her. But no. That’s not what happened. Instead, Kate smiled at me and whispered.

- “She said everybody on the team taught her a lot and made her a better agent. Especially you and Prentiss.”

- “Me?”- I didn’t even try to mask how shocked I was by that confession. It made no sense. Yes, at the end Seaver and I were on better terms, but she wasn’t my friend. She wasn’t even invited to our wedding. And, like JJ had pointed out a few days earlier in the worst way possible, I hadn’t been nice at Seaver.

- “Yeah, she said you two had a rocky start, but that you were an incredible agent, and that she put to use everything you taught her.”- I raised an eyebrow and waited for the “but” to come any second.

But it never came.

- “I don’t know if Ashley actually meant it.”- I finally confessed and sipped my tea - “I was very mean to her when she joined the team. We had… considerable issues.”

- “Whatever it was, you two managed to work together no matter what, and you really taught her a lot. She was very proud to have worked alongside you and agent Prentiss.”- I tried to read Kate, try to find any trace of deceit, irony, or any lead that showed me she was lying. But there was nothing. Was I losing my profiler’s touch? Or was she actually being honest?

- “Wow.”- that was all I managed to say. - “I’m glad we were a good school for her.”

- “You definitely were. She said it was the first time she actually managed to skip her father’s stigma and be herself.”- I sipped my cup and nodded. On that very same plane, I had yelled at Ashley about how her father had killed my aunt. It felt like ages ago. In another life.

- “So, how long have you and Spencer been together?”- Kate asked after a few seconds. I smiled and whispered.

- “It’s gonna be three years already since we got married, and four since we started dating.”

- “You didn’t wait long to tie the knot!”- she replied, shocked, and raised an eyebrow.

- “It might sound weird, but most people thought it took us too long.”- it was funny looking back now, but god! It had been a long journey.

- “Really? Why?”

- “‘Cos we were in love for four years and a half and none of us said a word about our feelings.”- I confessed and giggled. Kate wide opened her eyes, shocked.

- “You what?!”

- “Yeah! We wasted four years in love with each other ‘cos we were both terrified to deal with our feelings.”

- “Oh my god! That’s… like a rom-com!”- Callahan chuckled and I smiled, thinking it was funny now, but back when Ashley was in the team, it was the closest I had ever been to hell on earth.

- “Yeah, that’s why after we started dating, we decided to get married very soon, and no one was actually shocked by that.”

- “And do you have kids?”- Kate asked, and I had to do my best effort not to jump with excitement when I started talking about our daughter.

- “One daughter, Raven Marie. She is three months and a half.”- I made my best effort not to be the kind of mom I always made fun of, showing pictures of their babies to anyone they could. Until I heard Kate ask the questions:

- “Do you have pictures?”- and I know I grinned like a maniac, grabbing my phone.

- “I have so many!”

For the rest of the trip, Callahan and I stayed in the kitchenette of the plane, drinking tea and chatting. She told me she didn’t have kids of her own yet, but that she and her husband were guardians of her little niece “Meg” after her sister died. I didn’t ask much about it 'cause it was clearly a sensitive subject, but she did tell me a lot about Meg. She was thirteen already, which gave me a glimpse of what raising a teenager meant. And it sounded creepy.

That morning we reached home and found my mom walking in the living room with baby Raven. I nearly ran to her and held her in my arms. Me and Spencer kissed her chubby cheeks and somehow, I felt at peace. That’s a feeling I only get when we are all together, at home. A feeling that’s very elusive when you are an SSA. 

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[oatmealdaydreams]

The Well

Let me know if ya wanna be added on or taken off the general taglist! Finally got a damn hurt/comfort oneshot outta me for this fandom. Took me long enough.

Pairing: Sea Grunkles, gen

Warnings: Homelessness, Neglect of Health, Implied/Referenced Abuse, PTSD, Scars

Summary: It clicks in Ford’s mind what exactly Stan’s situation has been for the past ten years before he came to Gravity Falls. He is horrified at such a realization. Guilt and regret war in his mind as Stan notices the look on his brother’s face and tries to help.

Notes: Not really proud of how this turned out, but hope y'all like it! Title is from the song, The Well by The Crane Wives.

Inspired By Works: We're Still Here by Simplistic_Apricity on ao3! Go check it out, it's super good.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[fic under the cut]

Send me anywhere, take me out I’m the well that they’re gonna drag you down

~ “The Well”, The Crane Wives

=-=-=-=-=

There is something absolutely terrifying about having a sibling. 

Through everything they’ve been through—every mistake, every cussed-out argument, every heartfelt hand on the shoulder—Ford hasn’t given Stan nearly as much credit for his strength as he should. Not his physical strength, though he knows Stanley has a respectful amount of it. No, he means his mental strength. He doesn’t know what happened over the past ten years since they’d separated, and maybe he should’ve asked when Stanley first knocked on his door. After realizing that it was his brother, putting the crossbow down, checking his eyes—he should’ve at least had a good look at his drifter of a twin. It’s now, even with the threat of Bill hanging over his head like a dangling sword, that he’s starting to note Stan’s appearance. And he’s…well, this can’t be right, can it?

A greasy mullet that looks like it’s starting to thin out. Dirty, stained clothes. Scruffy face. Facial hair that’s barely there. Eyebags almost as bad as his own, hallowed and haunted. There’s a persistent reeking smell, wafting through the air. It makes Ford want to scrunch his nose up at how disgusting it is. His jacket looks worn, torn here and there, old with stitching that’s ready to pull apart at the seams. He…needs a shower. When was the last time he had a shower? Now that he’s asking questions, when was the last time he ate? Sure, he isn’t exactly skinny, but he walks around like it’s out of a survival habit instead of actually having the energy to do so. Ford can’t really judge in that regard, he knows, with how little energy he has himself. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Stanley should be fine. He’s supposed to be fine. He’s got more of a charm than Ford does when it comes to people. Ford kept telling himself that, when their Pa had thrown the dufflebag at his brother and sent him on his way with nothing but that and the car, that he’d be fine. Because Stan was resourceful and good with people, so he’d figure it out and everything. 

He never let himself think about how little his brother was given to start with, and how little he still seems to have. 

But now? Maybe Ford should’ve called him up instead of assuming Stan would be alright on his own. Instead of waiting for Stan to do it himself. Instead of refusing to swallow down his bitter pride, knowing in the back of his mind that Stan might’ve been living out of his car. He should’ve done a lot of things, but he can’t change what he’s done in the past. He can try to make up for his stupidity now. 

There are numerous hardly-healed scars and concerning marks on Stanley, he notes as he glances at his brother sitting on the couch. Purplish lines, keloids, jagged and long ones, ones that must’ve had a poorly done stitch job. There’s circular ones in certain places, and all Ford can think with horror in his inner-dialogue is when did he get shot? When did he get this many scars? Why are some of his teeth slightly off? Did he need dental surgery at one point? What happened to his brother?

His stomach twists and churns at the thought of Stanley hurt, bleeding, injured, and without someone to go to. He thought Stan could make easy friends like they did when they were kids. He’s always been good with people, even if his academic knowledge was hardly scraping by. But if his appearance and actions since he got here are anything to go by…

Oh.

Oh, god.

Ford feels close to vomiting the more he thinks about it. Everything clicks, and it’s horrible, why didn’t he just call him? He would’ve answered. He would’ve answered. His face must pale as he stares in widened horror at his realization because now Stanley is looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and concern.

“Hey, buddy, you doin’ okay?” he whispers, as if talking to a defensive animal. 

Ford can’t remember how to form words. His mouth feels dry. Stan frowns at the lack of a response. Ford’s gaze darts to Stan as he stands, fighting down a flinch at the sudden, quick movement. 

“Ford, c’mon, what spookin’ ya, huh?” Stanley takes a step closer, careful, watching him for any reactions. 

Stanford swallows, and his throat is just as dry as his mouth. He almost wonders if he looks like a caged animal the way his eyes stay wide, darting, alert. 

Scared, his brain supplies, though he chooses to ignore it. Horrified at what you let happen to him. 

Maybe he deserves it, bitter pride bites back, a rabid feral dog. He ruined my life. 

He was supposed to be fine. He was supposed to be okay, something childlike chimes in. 

You’re supposed to be his big brother, a part of him that he doesn’t dare to name comments, and the other parts of his mind shut up for once. How can you boast about being fifteen minutes older, whine about a mistake from ten years ago and claim it’s all his fault, when you’re the one who’s supposed to protect him? He always protected you. Why can’t you do the same for him?

And it sticks to his brain. 

He always protected you. 

“Poindexter,” Stanley calls for him, hands on his shoulders. 

Ford can’t hide the slight flinch from sudden contact, but neither of them move for a moment. Stanford’s gaze flickers to look Stan straight in his eyes. It’s too much. He should look away, say something, anything, but he can’t bring himself to do a single thing. It feels a little too closely like when Bill takes control of his body, keeping him watching but unable to stop whatever that dream demon wants to do. Helpless. 

Ford finally musters the will to clear his throat. He doesn’t want to think about how similar this feels to Bill. He needs to focus. 

“Ford?” Stan calls again, quieter, gentle. 

“I didn’t know,” Ford’s voice is hardly above a lingering whisper. 

“What?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Pal, ya gotta explain whatcha mean.”

Ford swallows, and he finds it difficult, “You—I thought you’d be fine.”

Stan gives him a look of confusion, furrowing his eyebrows further. Tilting his head, he tries to reach for what Stanford could possibly be talking about. Thought he’d be fine? Claiming he didn’t know something? What in the fucking world—oh. 

Oh, shit.

Stanley glances away from his brother, face forced into cool neutrality. Watching the realization dawn on him causes a prickling anxiety to erupt in Ford’s chest. It’s a feeling he’s used to, however, with all that he’s gone through with Bill, and so he has plenty of practice operating while engulfed in such a thing. 

“You’re always so good with people, Stanley,” his voice chokes and chops and he’s really surprised he hasn’t cried yet. “Thought you’d figure it out.” 

Stan glances back at him, an almost distant look in his eyes, “...Figure it out?”

“Make friends like you did when—like you did.” 

Various emotions flicker and flash across Stanley’s eyes, none of them staying long enough to name properly, shifting around in the core of his pupils. The frightened look in Ford’s eyes persists, and perhaps that’s what keeps Stan from rolling his eyes at him and scoffing in his face. 

“Tch, really had that much faith in me, huh?” comes out quietly, mumbling, almost too vulnerable for either of them to handle. 

Ford doesn’t know how to respond to this, so he doesn’t. 

He just stares. 

“Look where it gotcha, Poindexter,” Stan tries to mutter aside, but Ford hears it anyway with a hitching breath. 

They just…stare at each other as a tense and uncomfortable silence bathes the room. Stan doesn’t have the energy to let go of Ford’s shoulders. Ford might vomit if Stan lets go of him. 

“Moses, okay, could ya just calm down? I turned out fine! I still got the car and everything. Even tried a few business ventures, heh,” Stan desperately tries making this more light-hearted, joking, wanting nothing to do with the kind of conversation this may turn into. 

“I would’ve answered,” is the reply he gets.

“And done what? Huh, Stanford? What the fuck would’ve you done?” anger, indignant and lingering, growls and snarls. 

Anger is a dog that barks and bites, hurt and feral and wanting the pain to stop. 

“I don’t know! Something, maybe, I’d have at least talked to you!”

“And what would you’ve said? Because I sure as hell never got a call from you!”

“You’d call me if you needed to, I didn’t think—”

“Didn’t think, huh? Jeez, thought ya were the smart one.”

“I had no reason to believe you wouldn’t! I didn’t need to worry unless you said anything!”

“So, what, expect me to fuck up your life more?”

“I-no! That isn’t—”

“Well, guess what, Poindexter? I did call you!”

“You—wait, what?”

Emotions flicker around as they argue, fear of what might’ve happened to Stanley turns into defensive anger at being mocked and then into blatant confusion because his brother actually called him and he didn’t know. 

“Turns out Pa was right when he called me a pussy,” Stan continues as if it’s fine, which, hey, it isn’t. “Couldn’t even say nothin’ when ya answered.”

“You…that was you? You called me?” 

“What, ya goin’ deaf, Poindexter? Barely even thirty.”

“No, I–ugh!” Ford squeezes his eyes shut in frustrated and self-targeted disappointment. 

Stanley called him. He called him, but felt as though he couldn’t say anything to him. Why didn’t he? Surely, he knew he’d pick up and talk to him? Especially if it meant Stan was in trouble! He would’ve…he…what would he have done? He’d been working with Bill, with Fiddleford, building the portal. He had his stupid project, all of his research and work…what would he have said? Truthfully? That he was busy? Would he have really left his research for Stan?

A flash of his science fair project, the humiliation, the crushing weight of disappointment, the anger, the hurt. 

…He would’ve been more worried that Stanley would break his important equipment like he’d done to his work in the past. He would’ve barked out a slew of excuses why he couldn’t come to him. He would’ve hung up. Despite how much he’d missed his brother—though he refused to admit it for so long—he’d push him away. Reason that it’s for the best. 

Bill could’ve gotten to him. 

He could’ve…but Stan…

Fuck.

“You’re not a coward, Stan,” Ford tries. 

Stan snorts at him. “No, I mean it. Genuinely. You…you have so many scars,” they ignore the way Stanford’s voice cracks near the end. 

Stanley shifts in place, the movement felt by Ford through his shoulders. 

Fuck, how can he do this? He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He can’t articulate it properly. Scientific research and flowery language, yes. He could regale his findings on the cryptids and anomalies of Gravity Falls for hours and hours to anything who’d listen. But this? Emotions, people? What he actually felt? He rather have his teeth pulled. 

Actually, no, that was very painful to wake up to. 

Stan’s gaze softens the slightest bit, and then they’re back to this weird tense, awkward, emotion-driven silence that neither of them know how to navigate. Fuck, why is this is so hard? 

Ford does the only thing he knows will bring his point across. 

Stan stumbles backwards a little as his brother rushes forward and hugs him. He freezes, surprised by the fact that he’s hugging him. What are they, kids? But then Ford wraps his arms around him, squeezes, moves a hand to hold the back of his neck, and Stan just can’t anymore. He can’t deal with all the bouncing emotions that ping-pong everywhere. He can’t deal with this. Stan breaks, teary eyes he’ll pass off as dust, and hesitantly lightly wraps his arms around Ford in return. Ford squeezes again, and Stan tightens his hold on him. He grips the back of Ford’s jacket in an attempt to keep it together. 

He fails, and little droplets of tears drip onto Ford’s shoulder. If Ford notices, he doesn’t comment on it. He just holds him. He holds his brother. 

And maybe…maybe he can protect Stan this time. 

It’s his turn to keep him safe.

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 5

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

the kennedy girls are much sweeter than their older brother, who seems to have completely forgotten the midnight serenade he gave you the night before.

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

content contains: mild angst, is this even enemies to lovers? i dont know anymore., mean? leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2689 words

song rec: "sketching on the boat" from when marnie was there

The school day was horrifically long, so much so that I found myself dozing off in my English class. The lectures given by the stocky old teachers made my head hurt as the events of last night replayed over and over in my mind, the image of Leon's crooked smile forever etched in my memory.

Despite what he did to me, I couldn't find the want to be angry at him in that moment.

The dreaded hour of chemistry rolled around, and I found myself sitting awkwardly in my not-assigned-assigned seat. Leon's presence to my right made the hairs on the back of neck raise. My fingers grip the wooden pencil tight, anxiously scribbling down notes about calorimetry in my composition book. As Mrs. Bradshaw droned on about our lab for next class and being safe, I took a peek to my right, stealing a glance at the blonde boy next to me.

His head is tilted down as he jots down notes, and I smile to myself when I remember how disgusting his handwriting was last night. His eyebrows knitted together as he quickly wrote, his ballpoint pen dragging against the college-ruled paper. Leon's hair jostled slightly as his wrist flicked quickly, and I grew to admire his attention to the lecture, but the thought leaves my mind quickly when I remember what had happened between us.

The memory of my oboe slamming into the ground made my gut turn, and I recall the smug smile Leon had when he saw the look of despair on my face.

How could he be so sweet to me despite all that happened?

I don't realize how intently I stared at him until his eyes lock onto my own, and I immediately feel my throat go dry. If my stomach wasn't hurting ten minutes ago, it's definitely hurting now. The pen in Leon's fingers spun between each digits, hypnotically looping. We exchange awkward looks, and his lips twitch and pucker slightly, as if searching for words to say to me, but he couldn't whisper anything due to Mrs. Bradshaw calling for him.

"Mr. Kennedy, you have time to ogle girls after class," she scowls from the front of the room, the think chalk in her hands still on the blackboard. The ace's attention snaps to the teacher, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes dart around in search of an excuse.

"Can't help it, ma'am," Leon says coolly, leaning back into his desk chair with a soft smirk.

"Right... Please don't let me catch you staring at Mrs. (L/n) again, Mr. Kennedy," the woman sighs, resuming her lesson. Leon throws another look my way, and I notice how his leg shakes as he continues to play with the pen in his hand. I flash him an awkward grin before turning my attention back to the notebook on my desk, wanting to focus on my notes again. The last stretch of class begins, and I find myself sneaking glances at Leon more than once.

I don't notice him returning the favour.

"Leon!" I grab the sleeve of his Carhartt jacket as we walk out of the lab, the thick fabric between my fingers as I pull him to the side. He shoots me a glare, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at me with his nose slightly turned up.

"Do you need something?" He sneers at me, eyes piercing and harsh. I swallow dryly as I recognize the hostility in his body language.

"Can we like... talk?" I press, my lips forming a tight frown.

"About what? Your stupid clarinet?" The blonde's eyebrow raises, and I cringe slightly at the sound of him calling my oboe a clarinet.

"Last night... Y'know, how you played the-"

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Leon's nose crinkles as he tugs his wrist out of my grip. I look at him confused, not understanding how he could forget such a moment between us.

"Wh- how could you forget? Remember how we-" Immediately, he grabs the strap of my bookbag and drags me to a less crowded part of the hallway, gently pushing me into a locker with his hands resting atop my shoulders.

"Listen, princess," he sighs. "I can't let people knowing I'm into shit like that, okay? I already get enough talk in this hellhole as it is," he explains to me, and I feel some form of guilt tug at my heart. Even then, I grew even more confused.

"I... but why?" I frown at the boy, feeling tense beneath his grip.

"Whaddya mean 'why'? I just... don't wanna come off as a nerd," Leon chuckles humorlessly. The look on my face deepens.

"Leon," I pull his hands away from my shoulders, holding his left with a gentle squeeze. "Music isn't something you should just... turn away from. Why not share it with your friends?" I see Leon scowl slightly as he tugs his hand out of my grip.

"It isn't that simple..." he sighs, shaking his head softly. Blonde hairs dance around his face, concealing his icy blue eyes from my gaze.

"But-"

"See you around, princess," Leon turns on his heel, readjusting his backpack as he walks away from me as if nothing happened. I feel a headache begin as I scold myself for not stopping him, for not forcing him to talk to me or even pay for the damage he did to my poor oboe. I huff, disappointed in myself as I begin to walk to the band room.

The journey isn't long, and I find myself slumped in my chair towards the back of the room as I set up my trumpet. As I checked the valves of the brass item, the mouthpiece was wedged underneath my thigh to get it warm--a habit I've had since sixth grade. The instrument was greased and oiled to my liking, the valves and slides moving without any problems.

I inserted the mouthpiece before playing a simple chorale, adjusting my lips against the instrument as I tune myself.

"Sweet pea," I hear someone call from my left, knowing immediately that it was just Samantha. I pull my trumpet away from my face, turning my body in the plastic chair to look over at my best friend.

"What's up?" I cock my head to the side, curious as to what she has to say. She's got this funny look on her face as she crouches down to my level.

"Someone told me that you're gunna be tutoring the Kennedy girls... Is it true?" The flutist whispers to me softly. I'm taken aback at this, my brows knitting together.

"Who told you that...?" I give her a concerned expression. She giggles softly.

"Sunday, after church, your mom told my mom about it. I didn't think it was true, so I wanted to confirm with you," Samantha explains, getting up from her hunched position. I roll my eyes.

"Of course she told them," I grumble, flipping the pages of my binder to find the list of pep-tunes being used for this football season. "Yeah, I am. Their dad wanted them to like... be prepared for high school or whatever," I explain, slightly embarrassed. Samantha laughs under her breath.

"I see! Well, if you ever need an extra hand, I'm a drive away," she pats my shoulder before heading to the front of the room, sitting in her chair just inches away from the podium before class began.

Trios.

Glasses of water, stands, and wooden chairs from the dining room sat in the center of my bedroom.

Anxiety filled my stomach as I sit in one of chairs, my leg bouncing up and down as I try to calm myself. The air felt extremely hot all of the sudden as I stare down the book in front of me, the inked staffs and eighth notes taunting me as I await the arrival of the Kennedy girls.

I learned that the youngest was named Sherry. She played the euphonium, and I heard she wasn't the best at it from her father the other day. The other girl, Christina, is a trumpet player. She's a year older than Sherry, and she will be enrolling into Everglade High School next year. Their father speaks pridefully about them, and I can't help but find it a bit cute.

Even so, my nerves never faltered. Especially not when the doorbell rang.

I hear my mother greet the two girls, giving them a warm welcome before stomping up the stairs and towards my room. My heart pounded as I hear a gentle knock on my bedroom door.

"(Y/n)? The girls are here," she states. I stumble out of the wooden chair over to the door, opening it wide to let them in with a sheepish smile.

"Hey! It's good to see you," I awkwardly greet them. They nod at me in a similar manner as they enter my room, their footsteps pit-patting against the floorboards as they carefully walk over to the circle of chairs in the center of my bedroom. I take a seat, which is closest to my bed with my trumpet resting close to the foot of the chair. I clear my throat, trying to ignore the awful tension in the pit of my stomach as I took in the sight of the young girls in front of me.

They sat in the dining chairs daintily, their instrument cases set against the wooden chairs as they settled down. Sherry was a frail thing with baby blue eyes and her blonde hair styled in a low pony with a sweet red ribbon tied on the crown of her head. Her baby-blue vest was checkered, worn over a white dress shirt with a blue tie just under her chin. She also wore baggy cornflower shorts that went down just a hair past her knees.

The other girl, Christina, had chocolate brown hair that flowed freely down her back in long tresses, a bit matted. Her attire consisted of a simple pastel pink sweater and blue jeans that fit her legs a bit loosely. Her eyes were the the same shade of light blue as the rest of her siblings along with their button noses and fair skin. It was easy to tell that they were all related—the Kennedy's had very prominent features, especially with those perfect eyes of theirs.

It was hard to believe these girls are going to start high school so soon with how little they look, but I choose not to comment about it, clearing my throat with a cough before speaking.

"So... let's get to know each other before we start anything...!"

Posture is everything, I've learned.

I spent a good half of the two-and-a-half-hours with the girls trying to figure out why they sounded so... stale before realizing that they were both slouching in their seats. Their backs were hunched over the slightest amount to make them sound so weak while playing, and I had noticed only thirty minutes before our session ended.

Sherry and Chris—I had learned that she preferred to be called Chris—sat straight in their respective dining chairs, shoulders back with their bums at the edges of their seats. The younger of the two looked so little with the big ole euphonium planted in their lap that I was worried Sherry couldn't reach the mouthpiece at one point. Despite our bumps throughout the lesson, I came to like the Kennedy Girls.

Sherry, despite looking as fragile as a porcelain doll, wasn't afraid to get dirty. She easily slicked her fingers up with slide grease when I asked her to check her instrument before we tuned together, and even threatened to bet with her older sister about drinking valve oil which I immediately broke up. Even so, she was soft spoken for the most part, only ever getting rowdy if she was talking to her sister.

Chris was naturally smart-mouthed—it reminded me so much of her dear old brother. The difference between her when we first began the lesson to the end was quite apparent, it was hard to believe she was shy at all. The brunette played the trumpet quite well for her age, and I found myself satisfied with how she and Sherry learned so quickly.

"I think that's a enough for today, yeah?" I rest my trumpet on my lap and give the girls a soft smile. They nod in agreement, and I watch their jaws wiggle back and worth uncomfortably. I chuckle softly. "Go ahead and pack up and then I'll walk you two home, okay?"

"Okay!" they hum in unison, immediately reaching for their soft cases beneath their chairs. I get up to set my own instrument on my bed before leaving my bedroom, walking towards the bathroom just down the hall. Halfway through the short distance, a fake cough snaps me out of my thoughts. To my right is Damien's room, the door wide open to show me his lazy self lounging on his messy bed. I raise an eyebrow at him, my arms crossing below my chest.

"What do you want, Dami?" I tap my foot against the ground expectantly. He sticks his tongue out with a blank expression, looking at me upside on his bed.

"You guys are super loud," the idiot comments. You click your tongue at this.

"We're playing brass instruments. Of course we're loud," I walk away from his door and continue towards the bathroom.

I ignore his quips as I wash my hands, making quick work to get back to the girls. When I walk back into my room, I see them close my window and lock it, and an uneasy feeling fills my stomach. The two children notice me with light blushes dusting their faces, and I cock my head to the side questioningly.

"Was I interrupting something...?" I ask hesitantly. They shake their heads as a no, hands behind their back like ducklings as they try to act innocent. I decide it's best to not pester and keep the questions to myself.

"Are you two ready to go home then? I'm sure your dad wants you home for dinner," I walk towards the door of my bedroom, motioning them to follow. I watch them pick up their instruments before waddling up to me.

We walk out to the lower story together, the two girls trailing behind me. I lead the out the door silently, bidding my parents goodbye as we stepped out onto the porch. The autumn sun began to set, painting the sky in perfect hues of gold, pink, and blue as us three walked across the street. The distance to their house was short and sweet, and we stood on the front doorstep in a matter of seconds. The Kennedy Girls turn to face me, crooked-toothed smiles on their faces.

"Thank you for the lesson today, Missus!" they beam, and I feel my heart squeeze. I ignore the fact that they called me "missus" and flash them a smile back.

"Of course. I'll see you girls tomorrow in the high school band room, okay?" I remind them. Sherry looks a bit confused, but Chris quickly nods before dragging her sister into the house. When the door opens, I spot Leon standing a few steps away in the hall, watching us with a glass of milky-pink liquid in his hand.

He looked so innocent and sweet, but I wouldn't be fooled.

The ace has a cold look in his eyes, the same eyes the Kennedy family seemed to all share. His peachy lips are pressed into a tight, thin line as he glares at me from his spot in the hall before he looks down at his sisters with a cheesy smile that reaches his ears. It was almost terrifying how quickly his demeaner changed.

The door shut close with a light slam a soft clicking sound, telling me that the girls locked it.

I hold my breath as I begin the journey back to my home, silently wishing that tonight I can hear the sweet strum of a guitar before I go to bed.

finally the fifth part UHHHH this one kinda sucked i dunno i am kinda just doing what i want but ermmm..,

stay tuned for a self indulgent side story soon,,,,.,.,.,,..?

also yay this is now officially cross-posted on my ao3 under the same username!!

taglist: @bonnibuckets @umooooo74 @kurawooooooo @ilovemen1242 @elliewilliamsno1simp @v1v1dst4rs @iyagikkun @ir3nic-sluvv

[elliesmainhoe]

Play for me

Summary: After Ellie lost her fingers she longed to play the guitar again, so you played for her.

Contents: talk of Joel's death, PTSD mention, brief David mention, angst, comfort

My Masterlist

It had been a long journey of healing for Ellie since Joel's passing. It changed her in a way nothing else had before, not even David.

She thought that avenging Joel would make her stop hurting, stop being haunted by him. But of course, it didn't. Abby had taken two of Ellie's fingers. At the time Ellie didn't see the significance, but when she finally came home and picked up the old guitar, the realization hit her. And it hit her hard.

The one thing left she had of Joel, was gone. She could no longer replicate the song he had played for her all those years ago, the small sliver of him was now inaccessible. It broke her even more.

Ellie often woke up screaming and thrashing next to you. Yelling and crying as she tried desperately to escape the memory that plagued her dreams. You would sit up, back against the beds headboard and watch, feeling truly and utterly helpless.

Touching Ellie made it worse, her mind associating it with being restraint just like she was that day. You did that once, tried to wrap her in your arms, whisper sweet words of comfort in her ear to calm her down. But Ellie would fight against you, her arms would flail and end up injuring you. If you were honest, you didn't care about her hurting you, but Ellie did. She would cry and beg for your forgiveness, even if it had already been granted.

It was a random Tuesday night when Ellie began screaming in her sleep again, fighting the blankets until she eventually awoke from her nightmare. The day before, you had been changing the strings on your old guitar at the desk in the corner of the room, and when you turned the bedside lamp on to make sure Ellie didn't hurt herself in her episode an idea came into your mind.

You got up and retrieved the old golden brown guitar, clad in new strings and freshly tuned. The mattress dipped when you sat back down, the instrument laying in your lap. Your fingers began plucking the strings like second nature, hand moving up and down the guitars neck in various positions creating new chords and harbouring different sounds from it.

You noticed after about ten seconds, Ellie's sobs turned to sniffles, her breath was still quick but she seemed to be managing it back into a normal temp. She leaned over to the nightstand, pulling a tissue from it's box and wiping of the tears, sweat and snot that covered her face.

Her hands trembled as they began fidgeting out of habit, picking at old peeling skin and scabbed over cuts that littered her palms. She looked at you, with glazed over eyes and through wet eyelashes, as she bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling as the song slowly came to a close.

Once your hands had strummed the last chord, you looked at Ellie, placing the guitar against the wall and grabbing Ellie's hand to stop her from reopening any injuries. "How are you baby?" You hummed in concern, eyes full of concern.

"I'm better now... Will you uh- will you play for me again?"

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Guys I have never been so in love with my writing before. Thank you to the amazing anon who requested this 😭

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[goodluckclove]

Migration Patterns - Second Prologue

What's after the last prologue? Another prologue? How experimental.

I enjoyed writing this even though it hurt a bit. It's a great intro to a young Ollie so you can all see how painfully down bad she is for Scott despite him literally being born connected romantically to another human being.

She'll tell you that everyone had a crush on Scott at some point but that is factually untrue. It was just her. She likes weird guys.

Songbird Taglist hop on hop off let me know babbyyyy

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Prologue

Ollie Goose Bergeron moved carefully up the path to the Kaufner house. Her natural gait and speed in the forearm crutches was negated by navigating yard clippings damp from that afternoon’s rain. It was frustrating – though not as much as falling on her ass would be now of all times. Nevertheless, by the time she made her way to ring the front doorbell Ollie was guilty and annoyed as well as very out of breath.

The door opened. Tenzin Onyilogwu appeared, smelling of paint thinner, a can of energy drink in one hand and a frown already firmly planted on her face. She stared at Ollie for a too-long while of tense silence.

“Is Scott home?” Ollie asked.

More silence. A slight twitch in Tenzin’s brow. “No,” she said.

“Fuck, Ten, I can see his skateboard by the stairs.”

Tenzin looked over her shoulder at the worn, old-school deck board propped up against the small side table behind them. She sighed.

“He’s, uh…” She began vaguely.

Ollie shifted her weight to rest more against one crutch and gestured dismissively. “He’s pissed, I know. I’m here to apologize.”

After checking whatever Tenzin felt she needed to check, she slipped outside and closed the door behind her. She took a seat on the bench on the porch and, quietly grateful to get off her feet, Ollie followed.

She brushed a few curls of golden-brown out of her eyes, heaved one braced foot over the opposite knee, and rubbed her fingers into the muscles just below her knee. She regarded Tenzin warily, searching her best friend’s demeanor for any sign of how hard Ollie would have to apologize.

It was impossible as ever. For someone who presumed themselves to be neurotypical Tenzin was near impossible to read most of the time.

“Was there a fight at band practice, or something?” Tenzin asked after some more uncertain silence.

Ollie sat up. “He didn’t tell you?”

“He stormed in and went straight to his room. Didn’t even close the front door,” Tenzin sipped her drink and fiddled with the can. “Was someone out of tune? I still can’t figure out the type of thing to really upset a musician.”

Driving here Ollie was dreading having to defend herself to Tenzin. Realizing that she’d have to explain herself first was way worse. She scanned the yard ahead of them and tried to make out the lawnmower tracks in the grass as a way to focus and build up nerve.

“I gave some – constructive feedback…” Even acting as her own legal representation Ollie couldn’t say that with full sincerity. “I made a little joke about the new song he pitched.”

She purposely avoided eye contact as she said that, but that wasn’t enough to avoid the low suck of breath Tenzin drew in from beside her.

“It doesn’t – I don’t even think that -” Ollie groaned and tried again. “He’s brilliant. He’s a brilliant artist, everybody knows that.”

“Hm.”

“But three months out of the year, every year, the only songs he wants to write are about sad birds. I mean –” she scoffed, glaring in disbelief at the dead air ahead of them. “Two-thirds of the year we’re a rock band –”

Tenzin cut in quietly. “I don’t think that’s the genre he claims to use.”

“Avant-Pop Cabaret, whatever. But from October to December every year we suddenly only make songs for – fucking – emo birdwatchers? What the fuck?”

Her anger felt good. It felt normal. Of course, she was expressing it by the sibling least likely to encourage such intense emotions. In Tenzin’s presence the fire in Ollie’s chest quickly lost oxygen and fizzled out to pathetic smoke. Ollie slumped her shoulders and leaned back against the chair.

“No wonder he’s upset,” Tenzin observed. “You know how sensitive he gets about his bird songs.”

“He’s seventeen. Why are these the songs he suddenly can’t take criticism on?”

Tenzin met her eyes, unsmiling. “You know why,” she said.

After some more pestering Tenzin allowed Ollie to come inside and make amends. Ollie was already arguing with Scott ahead of time while working her way up the stairs. She was declaring to the imaginary Scott in her head all the effort she put just to value his feelings. Driving her grandpa’s car up the stupid hill that lead to his house. Walking up stairs.

He literally had no reason not to forgive her immediately.

She didn’t bother preparing. She didn’t even stop to knock. Ollie opened Scott’s bedroom door and braced herself for conflict.

His bedroom was small and warm. The only light came from the dirty glass of the window and the tangles of string lights, and the air smelled odd from the combination of two, ill-paired scented candles.

Scott Skylark Kaufner was sitting up in bed with the covers pooled around him. He was shirtless, which she supposed she should’ve expected.

Ollie tried very hard to hold onto her indigence. What mattered was resolving this conflict as quickly as possible, not charting the new, soft dusting of dark hair across Scott’s bare chest. She was here to either apologize or insist she was right – either way, her goal was not to gaze as the soft-sharp intensity of her childhood friend’s mostly-nude body.

His expression was sullen. After a moment, he pulled back the covers in bed beside him. Ollie swallowed hard in a way she hoped wasn’t noticeable.

“You’re at least wearing boxers right?” She attempted.

Scott furrowed his brow. “Yeah,” he murmured.

Ollie nodded and went to plop on the side of Scott’s large bed. She slipped off the crutches and leaned them against the closest bookshelf, then took a soft breath and slid under the blankets.

They laid beside each other. Ollie kept just enough distance from him so that all she felt was the outer radius of heat from his body. She reminded herself of the stakes of their relationship. It felt like she was doing that a lot lately.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I know,” Scott rubbed his eyes and shifted onto his side to stare at her. “I overreacted.”

That got a weak smirk out of Ollie. “You and I tend to do that, don’t we?”

“Is Aggie okay? I know she doesn’t like it when I yell.”

Ollie thought back to the glare their saxophonist gave her. So many adults in town thought Agaric was so sweet, just a natural teddy bear. If that was the case it was definitely never something Ollie got to see.

“She’s getting really – uh,” Ollie scooted a little closer and lowered her voice. “I’m kind of worried. While I was taking her home she said she skipped another level in her close combat classes. I think one of these days you and I are going to butt heads and she’s going to legitimately kick my ass.”

She saw Scott start to smile, but shift at the last second to appear disapproving. “Maybe she’ll beat me up first,” he claimed, balling up the covers under his chin.

“Oh yeah,” Ollie scoffed. “You? Sure. Definitely.”

It was always a sight to see Scott’s features warm suddenly in satisfaction or amusement. It was a subtle narrowing in the eye and crinkling in the corners of his lips that completely changed the way he looked. The cat-like warmth had the capability to be so sweet that some in town gently questioned whether he was misguided in identifying as a man, even just for now.

That was never Ollie. She knew Scott to have an innate sense of his own masculinity in a way that Ollie never had and never will. And she loved him for it.

“I only tease you because you’re amazing,” she said, feeling her voice soften and inwardly chiding herself for it.

Scott cringed, then smiled sheepishly.

“I mean, come on,” she pulled the covers away from Scott’s face to get a better look at his eyes, “even at your most self-indulgent you’re fucking incredible. That’s why no one else tells you when you’re being self-indulgent.”

He hid back in the blankets. This was breaking the sacred covenant of having such a close relationship with someone like Scott Kaufner. You’re welcome to make music with him on a potentially indefinite basis on the condition that you don’t point out his skills. It’s perfectly fine to call him handsome or dashing, but get any more specific than that and he’ll get uncomfortable quick.

Ollie got closer to the blanket covering his face. “Hey,” she said.

“It’s not my self, Ollie.”

“I know, Skylark,” she frowned, forlorn, only because she knew he couldn’t see. “I mean – I don’t – but I get what you mean.”

After some time Scott felt more comfortable coming out of hiding. Their faces were closer now. Ollie did not intend to get as close as she was just then.

“Maybe...Maybe you’re just stressed,” she attempted, mostly just to fill the air. “I mean we graduate soon. A lot of stuff is changing. I know a lot of us are on edge thinking about – I don’t know. What we’re leaving behind.”

Scott’s eyes widened slightly. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

Something twisted in Ollie’s chest. A flicker of several sensations at once. The worry in Scott’s expression was heart wrenching and incredibly confusing.

What if she was? What if she was going someplace far away – and she was leaving tonight? Would Scott try and stop her? Would he make some grand gesture in an attempt to convince her to stay?

A short debate on how to respond felt far longer in her mind. Finally she found herself defeated. Ollie exhaled softly and flashed Scott a reassuring smile.

“Nah, Skylark, I’m not leaving.”

For good measure she reached forward underneath the covers and touched Scott’s hand. She only meant to barely interlace their fingers, but much to his character Scott locked their hands together and squeezed tightly.

Ollie laughed under her breath. She had to, there was just no other option.

“I’ll stay around for as long as you want,” she said.

[escape-music1432]

With All My Heart

König x Reader

Soulmate AU: Black and white

Y'all this took me a month. A FUCKIN MONTH!

I had so many ideas n' none of them sat right so enjoy the final product 😚

Can you guess the song by the title?

5k words(some swears)

Not edited cuz my brain hurts😵‍💫

I can’t write accents and I’m not apologizing🖕

~~~~••••~~~~••••~~~~

You glanced over at the fit man beside you, the music drowning out the small quips as he spoke, the smell of bunt fries, cigarettes and alcohol filled your nose. The quick gulp of the sweet sour wine itched at your throat as you felt his shoulder gently shove your side. The man's laughter filled the bar air, the nudge causing some wine to spill down the front of your sundress. Your calm composure made the man stiffen up as his laughter died down as you turned your full attention to him. He didn't look much, but with the tightly fitting dress shirt and jeans seemed to compliment just exactly how he was acting. The scruff of his growing beard and small specks of acne proved to you he hadn't been taken care of himself like usual.

Sean has been your long time friends. Sadly within those ten years, adulthood didn't treat either of you well. Sharing an apartment while working double shifts to get enough money for bills, food, and college funds, it wasn't the dream either of you had in the big city. However, it was ideal considering you had taken him in after his parents kicked him out. Sean had it rough, now that the years kept going by faster and faster, so finding the one was becoming increasingly more appealing.

Your hand gently ran along the glass cup, shoving the small shot glass aside as your friend Sean downed them. The alcohol radiating from him in waves, to the point your nose crinkled every time he spoke. Your heart raced every time he giggled, wondering what diabolical thing he could have conjured up. You couldn't control the adult baby that sat next to you, only being able to tame him with talk of another life, a life he wished and yearned for. The night of casual friendly drinking was now a wasteland of drunken rambles and incoherent nonsense.

You couldn't blame Sean, he had a massive crush on someone who barely acknowledged him. He didn't want to admit it but when he had a crush he treated them like trash, making unruly comments about their looks, personality. It was a wonder how his crush dealt with him most days, mostly ignoring his remarks between meetings and disappearing after them. Sean wanted nothing more than to embrace them into his life but here he was crying at the bar, wondering why they didn't talk or put themselves in a position to be in the same vicinity as him.

You knew crushes were inevitable, with the hope of finding that one person to bring color to your life. Some dealt with little to no color while others seem to have every color in their vocabulary. Soulmates weren't something you agreed upon during your 26 years of life, but you somehow found it entertaining watching others on their search. Seeing your friend wail and hiccup was one of the many forms this soul bond made.

His crush happened to be an old friend, Mike. When you hung out he'd ask about Sean wondering what he was like, who he was with, how he knew you. And every time you'd shrug it off wondering why exactly he wanted to know and now a couple months later you realized Mike felt the same for Sean. He was handsome, and the sweetest man you knew beside Sean. However, when these two were together they'd pull the same antics, pushing harder than pulling. During meetings it'd be constant arguments, judgements and annoyance. They could end the scuffle with a simple touch. A touch that both were to stubborn to initiate, the doubt of color not blossoming before their eyes or the simple beauty it will. Either way you weren't keen on finding out, not when Sean was drunk and could barely form words let alone keep his head up.

You tried to quiet Sean down, hushing him like a child and much like one he groaned speaking louder while covering his ears. Someone from across the bar stood up abruptly, the chair they sat on crashed onto the floor. It all happened in slow motion, the glass of wine that you'd been sipping came crashing down onto Sean, his childish wailing ceased as a misty eyed Mike stood at your side fuming with anger. Sean's eyes widened, his expression reading true horror and embarrassment.

"Is that what you really think? I hate you?" Mike's voice darkened as he glared daggers at Sean, his full attention on the drunken man who was now curled against the wall not bothering to even look at Mike any longer. You tried to intervene but was quickly shut down when Mike slammed his hands against the table, nearly pouncing toward the silent man beside you. "Can't say it to my face? Can you?! You're such an idiot."

Mike was much closer now, you could smell the sour stench of vodka on his breath having nothing on the whiskey Sean had been drinking. Sean flinched back, you noticed now that he was shaking uncontrollably. It made your own body tense noticing Sean's breathing was becoming more frantic, his eyes blinded by the pool of tears gushing from them. His dry heaving proved to you what was happening as Mike berated him. You felt anger bubble up inside you, and with the wine beginning to set in, you felt double the amount of courage than usual. In one swift fluent motion you had stood up, your hands coming up to cover Mike's chest as you used all your weight to step forward.

"Back off!" You shoved Mike back using all your strength, he stumbled into a near by table knocking glasses over and getting yelled at from the couple that sat at the table. Sean gasped loudly from behind you while you stood protectively in front of him. The shattered glass littered around your feet, your gaze lingered on the glass as your heart thumped against your chest before you shifted your gaze back up to the drunken man slouched over a table.

Mike grumbled, sitting back up and swiping away the food that tethered onto his shirt from the fall. He didn't even apologize to the couple only sending you a bone chilling glare while Sean fumbled over himself to stand beside you. Mike stood upright, still drunk.

"Just... stop it. We're leaving. Okay?" You huffed angrily, looking away for one second to grab your coat and purse and when you looked back Mike was charging for you. You yelped, barely dodging his sudden attack but he countered you with a quick shove of his shoulder and you were on your ass. He stumbled over himself, landing into the booth you had once sat at. You felt a pain in your side from landing against the shattered plates from before, and without any hesitation you sat back up. The alcohol in your system drowning out all of your other senses.

"What the hell?! You don't even know-" Just before you could finish Mike shot up from his laying position, pointing an accusing finger at you. His nose scrunched up as he glared at you, obviously feeling some sort of resentment toward your words. His cold stare frightened you a bit, not used to this side of him but still you held strong and stood up waiting for him to continue as you tried to replicate his cold stare.

"You wanna know the full story?" His voice shook you to your very core, it seeped of venom and a bit of worry. You didn't make a sound or any movement, only fixing your eyes onto him signaling for him to continue as you waited. However, the fearful look in Sean's eyes concerned you, wondering what exactly Mike could say that would strike so much fear into him.

"Fine. Sean and I are soulmates big whoop! But guess what? He shot me down, why you ask? Well it's because he's straight, and here he is telling you a sad sap story making me the bad guy." You looked over to Sean who looked more ashamed by the second, Mike's words eating away at him in more ways than one.

"Why would me being a guy matter?! I spent my life dreaming of the day my soulmate would embrace me and love me, yet here we are! It's just not fair. Why can't you love me... what did I do... shit." Mike's words softened at the end, the sound of a broken man never ceased to amaze you. You knew deep down what the problem was, and Sean was too afraid to admit it.

You watched as Mike curled in on himself, slipping onto the ground his hands coming up to cover his face. You could tell it was something he'd been holding in for awhile. The defeated look he had only confirmed that, and it made your heart ache with the sniffles and tears falling from his eyes.

You slouched your shoulders, looking around at the prying eyes before walked toward Sean. Your hand gently came into contact with his shoulder and when it did you had startled him. His eyes glancing from you to Mike, fresh tears beginning to brim at the edge of his eyes.

"Come on. Let's go." You didn't say another word as you helped lift him up, helping him trudge through the bar not wanting to cause any more trouble.

You wrapped your coat snuggly around yourself, making sure to keep close to Sean. His wobbling and teetering walk had you on mom mode, hoping he wouldn't fall over or hit his head. You opened the bar door, following Sean outside. When the cold air hit you, you felt better. The adrenaline began to ware off, and the awkwardness began to set in. You hated times like these, when a serious conversation needed to be made but you were patiently waiting until the next crosswalk to even consider speaking.

You took a deep breath in, "Sean..."

He stiffened up slightly at the sound of his name, his steps beside yours stopped abruptly. You stopped too, turning to face him. You could see his defeated expression clearly, the sadness edged into every wrinkle of his forehead.

"Why didn't you tell me Mike was your soulmate? Is it because of-" You felt your words get caught in your throat at Sean's sinking figure, he balanced himself on the heels of his feet as he curled up. His arms resting against his knees as he nodded his head, already knowing what you were going to say.

"Oh Sean... they aren't here. They can't hurt you. Mike wouldn't hurt you, damnit, he'd never lay a finger on you..." You leaned down toward him, running your hand against his back to soothe his muffled sobs.

"I know, but it's so hard. It's been years (y/n). Years! My parents hurting me just because of my sexuality, the men I've slept with. I was so scared when I found out it was actually Mike." Sean leaned into your touch, letting himself unravel before you. His repressed emotions finally coming to surface.

You sat with him as he told you the story, the sudden touch a few months back. The colors blossoming in his vision, the beauty of it all. The fear, the hatred, the resentment, the yearning, the jealousy. All happening in the span of a few seconds from a single touch. It was painful as much as it was beautiful, and the absolute sadness in Mike's eyes when Sean told him he couldn't be with him. It was like you were there, experiencing the most heartbreaking moment. The moment when both men were shattered with the realization life wasn't so fair. In Sean's situation it was becoming unbearably obvious he was still traumatized from his high school years, the years he'd spent living with you after his parents kick him out.

"Sean, it's not going to be like that. Mike doesn't understand what happened before you two met. He has the right to know. I would want to know why my soulmate wouldn't want to be with me, wouldn't you?" Something in Sean clicked as he stared at you, his expression softening as he nodded along to your question.

"You're right, but after tonight I don't think he'll want to see me again." Once again he sunk back into that dark place inside his mind.

"I'm sure I can talk some sense into that big lug of yours." You nudged his shoulder slightly, giving him a playful smile.

Sean gave you a weak smile, his mouth opened to speak but both of you froze. The rushed footsteps from afar began coming toward you. You had immediately turned your attention to the unknown figure sprinting down the sidewalk. Sean heard them too, immediately drying up his tears and standing beside you. You thought it was Mike, but as the figure came closer you realized they were much, much taller than Mike was. Literally towering over you, like a skyscraper. Their hoodie and face mask concealing their identity while you reached for your bag only to feel it disappear into thin air as the person stood in front of you. Their chest puffing in and out like they had run a marathon. They closed the distance between you. Your hand coming up to Sean's chest to keep a good foot between you and the mysterious person.

Your neck hurt from how far you had to lean back to look up at them, "Can I help you?"

The person took a deep breath in, hunching over slightly to catch their breath. "Excuse me, das Fräulein. You left zis... Sorry if I startled you, I seen you leave and zought-"

The man looked mysterious but the way he spoke so softly, and the way the skin on the side of his eyes crinkled with his smiling eyes you realized your mistake in judgment. His words trailed off into the wind as you looked at the purse he was carrying. You noticed the way his fingers poked out from the gloves he wore, his hand nearly engulfing the bag as he leaned down slightly as he nudged the bag out to you. He made himself smaller, taking up as little space to give you the most comfort. It was odd but heart warming at the simple gesture. The more you looked at the purse the more you began to realized it was your purse, dumbfounded you stuttered over yourself realizing what the man was doing.

"Oh... Oh shit! Thank you sir, thank you so much..." You sheepishly reached out for your bag, your words becoming muffled as you nicked your fingers against his.

The soft grip you had on your purse loosened. You blinked once, then twice wondering why your vision began to blur. The small specks began to cloud your vision like television static. With each passing second they began to haze into what you can only call color. The sound of your bag hitting concrete made you jump in fright as the once dull world spouted in colors you had no name for. The reds, blues, and yellows formed different shades and hues all together. You were so ecstatic, surprised and frightened all at the same time. The light from signs shined brightly in neon color, and even the skin upon your body glowed dimly.

"Mein Gott," His voice rang through the chilly air, his thick accent making your ears tingle.

Did he always have an accent, you couldn't remember. The past events becoming nothing but a blur of colors clouding each and every past event. Life flashed before your eyes surrounding each moment in sprouts of golden rays of sunshine, and purple hues of dusk. Your mind buzzed as your heart began to thumped loudly against your chest, beating so roughly you could hear it pound against your ear drums. The stutter of your words and shallow breaths creating a symphony with your racing mind and heart, soothing any worry but strumming a new found feeling.

You looked up at the tower of a man, examining him. His facial expression couldn't be seen behind the black medical mask, his dark gray hoodie helping in obstructing his features. You could tell, from the widened eyes and frantic movement, that he was trying hard to piece together what you had so easily accepted. The new feeling becoming increasingly more prominent as he tripped over himself to step back and look at the world that was once black and white.

Looking at his body language and ogling eyes, you knew this feeling was none other than philophobia. You've heard of it being a side effect of finding your soulmate, a feeling that wasn't unusual but not often heard of. You pieced together the moment this phobia affected you. After hearing Sean's story and seeing Mike's expression, it struck you the wrong way. You knew it would hurt when you witnessed their heart break.

Those thoughts kept racing through your mind, tainting any happy emotion you once felt. Your body moved on its own as you quickly snatched up your bag and turning toward Sean, his facial expression filled with worry as you laced your fingers with his. Sean couldn't even get a word in as you pulled him to keep in step with you.

"H-Hey vait!? Liebe?" The mans words were gut wrenching as you kept walking, your eyes misty from the sudden rush of fear and adrenaline.

Your emotions were going haywire, the anxiety itching at your body as you began to jog but remembering the pain in the mans eyes began to break your heart even more. You began sprinting toward your apartment, hoping you could run from the feeling racing after you. Sean surprisingly kept up with you, his screaming questions fell on deaf ears. Only when you apartment door shut behind you, were you finally able to breathe. The tears finally beginning to fall passed your lashes and stream down your cheeks, your hiccups turning into loud sobs as you fell onto the floor covering your eyes with your jacket sleeve.

Sean watched in horror as you broke down. He stood awkwardly for what felt like forever, not making a sound or moving an inch. His mind raced, not only did Mike confess everything but something happened to you while talking to that German man. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, all he knew was he couldn't bare to see you shivering from the cold or watch your knuckles turn white as you gripped your hair. It reminded him of when he first met Mike, the touch was so hypnotizing yet so existential. He understood your pain.

Sean sunk down next to you, his hands gently running over the back of the (f/c) jacket you wore. He could feel the icy pins against his fingertips as he tried his best to comb your hair back, his hands gently holding your own. The words he wanted you to hear couldn't surface, not when you looked up at him with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your cheeks were red from the cold, small specs of snot forming at the bottom of your nose as you sniffled and wiped away at your drenched face.

"Are you okay?" He couldn't even speak clearly as his words caught in his throat. Sean knew he was going to cry again, watching as you shook your head. You nuzzled into his arm while continuing to sniff and sob. He knew what you were feeling, happy he could be useful for once.

"He's the one, wasn't he?" Sean's words rang in your ears.

Once again you nodded, trying your best to keep still as your muffled cries bounced off the apartment walls, keeping you from ever finding the words you needed to speak. Sean chuckled, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. His chuckling turned into a fit of crying laughter as he engulfed you in a hug, rocking you back and forth and shushing you.

~

It had been months with no sign of the mystery man. You assumed he was visiting for only a few days, shooting your chances of meeting him down to a slim 0.1% chance and with no way of knowing for sure, those numbers dropped further. Most days went by without fault, enjoying the new perspective and sights. While other days you couldn't even close your eyes without being blinded by the colors around you, and the existential crisis creeping up your spin at every waking moment.

Sean had yet to talk to Mike, leaving you both in a spiraling loop of love and fear, yearning yet repressing. However, you were envious Sean got to see Mike nearly everyday, while you had no hope of finding the German man again. You tried to remember more details about him besides his height and kindness.

The days continued to pass in a blur, Mike and Sean deciding to take it slow not denying nor establishing their relationship. All was looking up with your promotion and having your two friends back, but the ache in your chest never ceased.

"Can I get another glass, please?" You waved your empty wine glass at the waiter, who gave you an annoyed look but forced a smile as you hummed in delight at the amber liquid filling the glass.

"Slow down, (y/n)..." Sean's cautious words flew passed your head as you fumbled the fork in your hand, the small bits of steak falling back onto your plate as you glared at the inanimate object.

Sean nudged your side slightly as you hummed, still focused on the fork between your fingers to keep it steady. Mike chuckled at your childish behavior while Sean rubbed his temple in frustration.

"Come on, do you need me to feed you?" His words repeated in your head as you chuckled, leaning against his shoulder playfully. Before laughing devilishly as you finally got the piece of meat onto your utensil. "I think I can do it myself dad."

You finally agreed to a night out as a third wheel so Sean and Mike could go on a date, which was a mistake if you asked Sean. However, you enjoyed the night of laughter and lighthearted jokes. It silenced the voices and pains in your chest, something you needed after stressing for months. Sean knew this, just as much as Mike. It was kind of funny to watch them sneak glances and gentle touches, something that soothed the 'unknown feeling' according to Sean.

"Can you guys get a room, I don't need to be here for this." Your drunken giggle made both of them jump in place as you watched Sean's expression turn from annoyance to sympathy. It made your stomach turn, not in a good way either. Something in you told you to leave, it must have been the rumble in your stomach and the salty taste on your tongue as saliva began to fill your mouth.

Without any warning you shimmied out of the booth, making your way to the bathroom but stopping midway to glance back to your friend. His blue eyes shined brighter when he looked into the oak eyes admiring him. His dirty blonde hair slicked back and the blue dress shirt complimenting his features. It wasn't to long ago when all those colors were black and white, odd shades of grey that had no meaning. The world around you was surreal, hypnotic, a dream.

You leaned against the bathroom sink to rinse off your face, the cold water hiding the stray tears that slipped passed your eyes. Your heart thumped against your ears, the line between panic and attack becoming increasingly prominent. The knock at the bathroom door made your body calm, only focusing on the voice from the other side.

You walked out of the bathroom, a quick apology to the lady giving you an annoyed glance before she scurried into the room. Your racing thoughts ceased before adrenaline kicked in, the warmth radiating at your finger tips increased as you rounded the corner. Your heart dropped, seeing a familiar hunched over figure standing by your booth. Sean and Mike making quick conversation with the towering man as you stood dead in your tracks. It couldn't be, your mind couldn't accept it. He was here, after all the wasted energy looking for him, he was here.

You felt your body go numb, admiring the way he slouched and gestured with his large hands. Your heart skipped a beat noticing the light brown hai hair, the way it sat curled at his shoulders. The jacket he wore was nowhere in sight, for a moment you questioned if it really was him. You could see the scruff of a beard at his chin, the familiar black medical mask pulled down to his neck gently tugging his ears down as he spoke. Then it happened, he smiled. His teeth showed through the thin of his chapped lips, you narrowed your gaze on his blue eyes watching the way the corner of them crinkled. A chill ran down your spin as you shuddered, loving the familiar warmth at the pit of your stomach. It really was him...

You watched as Sean turned his gaze toward you, a warm smile and loving gaze. It was to good to be true. Sean waved you over, at the sudden change of Sean's attention the man turned his attention toward you. You felt that same feeling from before. The existential crisis crawled down your spine in a bone chilling realization, it wasn't a dream. His soft gaze making you putty where you stood, his hand coming up to wave at you in a joyful manner. You couldn't deny the way your heart soared at his sweetness, nor could you control the way your body moved toward him.

Mesmerizing, that's the best way you could describe him. He pulled you in without even trying, capturing you in bliss at a single glance. Before you knew it you were standing in front of him, looking up at his nervous expression. His gaze was still soft as he stared down at you, the corners of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a large smile.

"Hello, Liebe. I'm happy to see you again." His voice was soft as silk as his small exhale of breath littered across your face.

Your nose scrunched at the faint hint of alcohol and fruit on his breath, finding the scent welcoming. You inhaled so sharply you could see him stiffen at the sound, you must have scared him. Without any warning, you quickly stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He let out a surprised sound at your loving embrace, his arms stiffening at his sides. You could feel the philophobia crawling around your mind, however, you kept your hold against him not letting go. Your hands gently clasping together as you nuzzled your face into the place between his stomach and chest. Loving the way your body melted into his.

You felt his finger tips tickle your back as his palms followed, one hand barely below your bra strap and the other nestled against the messy length of your hair. You felt the existential feeling subside.

"I looked for you everywhere. I'm so glad I finally find you uh..." your words drowned into the fabric of his long sleeve shirt, the muscles on his forearms flexed slightly as he tightened his grip.

"König, you can call me König." He spoke so softly, feeling the rumble of each syllable against your ear as he spoke.

"It's nice to finally meet you König-again I mean-we-I'm-" You felt his body bounce as he chuckled, cutting you off as you began to blush from embarrassment.

"(Y/n), right? Your friend Sean mentioned your name earlier. Sorry-" his words trailed off as you enjoyed his rambling, loving every few accented words that layered thick in German slang.

You nodded your head as you released your grip from around him, feeling your face hurt from how hard you were smiling. He seemed to have a similar problem as he tried his best to hide his smile by lifting up his mask. His teeth showing just before he turned his head away from nervousness.

König couldn't keep his eyes off the way you swayed back and forth on your heels, your nervous chatter being music to his ears as you pointed toward Sean and Mike. He couldn't help remembering the day he met you, watching from afar as you comforted a crying friend. The way you rolled your eyes and smiled playfully, or how your laughter would harmonize with the music playing.

He was going to be your savior when Mike had threatened you and Sean, but before he could even stand you had stopped him dead in his tracks. The way your once calm composure was quickly blinded by a hidden rage. The way you were quick on your feet to shove Mike back and using such force it had made his heart jump. He could see the fear in your eyes but the way you stood tall and confident he was at a complete loss for words with your courage. He couldn't deny he was envious of that.

Even when Mike charged for you, you were quick on your feet in dodging his attack, your sundress flowed along your curves perfectly. But you had let your guard down when Mike countered you with a shove of his shoulder. He just about lost his shit when he stood from his seat, his hands balling into fists but you surprised him again with the way you had wiped away the dust off your dress when you stood back up, that familiar fire in your eyes ready to take another hit protecting someone dear.

You were perfect in every angle, even when he had frightened you while giving back your purse. The warmth that radiated through his entire body when your hands touched, the world he once knew crumbled into pigments he was absolutely frightened to see. As much as he felt excitement he was also frightened at the sudden change in a new world. The fear didn't last long when he realized you were his soulmate, some good news he needed that day but when he seen the tears threatening to spill down your face or when you turned to run from him, his heart broke. Scared he had done something wrong or scared you off with how he looked, he wasn't stupid he knew he intimidated people with his height.

The existential crisis started right after he left your city, that night he laid awake thinking of you. When he did finally get some sleep you were dancing around his dreams with gentle touches and soft sounds, his heart would race at every breath and word your spoke. He couldn't drown you out, only when the blood littered across his mask and coated his gloves, only then was he able to drown you out. It wasn't healthy, it wasn't okay to become more of a blood lust beast when all he wanted was to be in your presence again.

When he was finally came back he sat in a hot shower hoping a night at the bar would keep his mind away from your tear stained face and tuning figure. Deep down he prayed he'd run into you again, even if it took his entire stay to get even a glimpse of you. But seeing you here, seeing a smile instead of tears was what he needed, it was what he ached for.

He couldn't fall for you more, watching at you tucked your flower covered sundress against the back of your thighs. Your hand gently tapping the spot beside you with a welcoming smile that had his heart melting. Even if you had been scared, he was taken away by the fact you looked for him after all this time. You were holding his hand in your own as you rolled your eyes at Sean's playful jokes and stories of your high school years.

He didn't know if you felt the same but having you leaning against his arm made his mind go crazy, his heart thumped against his chest when you looked up at him waiting for him to speak.

"König? You okay?" Your voice was smooth as silk as you linked your arm with his.

Your facial expression had him putty in your hands, the way your brows knitted together in worry and the way your lips formed in a slight tight lipped smile. He couldn't help but gently push the few strands of hair out of your face, feeling your cheeks burn against his finger tips. You melted into his touch as you leaned into the palm of his hand and looking up at him with those starry eyes.

In that moment König was finally grounded again.

~~~~••••~~~~••••~~~~

If this flops I'm never writing again💀

Spicy Pt 2 tho👀

[outstandingblue]

Promises to Keep

One - Idiots in the Forest

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na’vi oc

| Masterlist | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine |  Chapter Ten |  Chapter Eleven |  Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen |  Chapter Fifteen |

Man, Jiniraa just wanted to gather her leaves and go home. Not worry about these idiot boys trying to make a name for themselves. 

find it on ao3 here

content warning: a lil bit of anxiety

word count: 2k

The sounds of the forest brought comfort to her ears. While she had to remain somewhat vigilant for actual dangerous creatures, most of the life around her just wanted to be left alone. She was content, even though she was by herself, something she’d been scolded for time and time again upon her return to the Omaticaya stronghold in the floating mountains. 

A few more leaves, then I’ll have enough to last a couple weeks. She thought to herself, mindlessly humming a song. It wasn’t a Na’vi song, rather it was some human song that Norm introduced her years prior. While many members of the Omaticaya clan resented having certain humans living amongst their ranks, she loved living with them. She found them fascinating, much much kinder than any Na’vi she could ever hope to meet. 

After she was finally satisfied with her haul for the day, she began making her way back towards the mountains. There wasn’t any sort of urgency to her step, she was savoring her time in the forest. Along the way, she passed a small herd of Fwampops. They were drinking out of a small watering hole and she stopped for a quick break. Groaning as she bent at the knees, one of the smallest walked up besides her leg, leaning in for a pet.

“Little one, you are too cute. Also too trusting,” she smiled down at the young as it scampered back to its mother with a little yelp.

Continuing along, she found herself taking a shortcut towards the old battlefield from years ago. No harm, no foul. Right? Jake probably would yell at her if he knew of the route she decided to take, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt. The area was strictly off limits and no one was supposed to be anywhere near the zone, so wasn’t she surprised to hear four familiar voices in the distance. 

Making her way towards the voices, she decided to use it as a teaching moment for the Sully children and Spider. She took up the mantle as older sister or cool aunt to all of the young ones, so it was a perfect opportunity. Technically she was breaking the rules too, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Stalking her way behind the children, she got close enough to demonstrate they were being too careless. 

“Now what exactly are you all doing here?” She called out from the trees. All at once, four heads snapped her way. She smiled and jumped down, landing with a thud in front of Lo’ak.

“Jiniraa!” Tuk called out with a smile on her face. Kiri crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, as per usual. Lo’ak and Spider had their “oh shit, we’re in trouble” looks knowing they had been caught.

“Can’t we ask you the same question? You’re only a few years older than us” Lo’ak asked, clearly annoyed that an adult had ruined their adventure.

“No actually you cannot. A decade is more than a few years. I am more responsible than you. Why is Tuk here? I wouldn’t be as upset if it was just you two idiots trying to get yourselves killed. You need to be more responsible and thoughtful” Lo’ak’s ears lowered and he brought his gaze to the ground, he never liked being called out for his antics. At her tone, Spider and Lo’ak both muttered small apologies without making any eye contact. 

Jiniraa realized her tone was probably too harsh on the children, they were just learning anyway. With a sigh, she ran a hand over her face. “Look, let’s just head back home. I won’t bring it up to your parents if and only when you promise me you will stop this careless behavior.” She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at the group in front of her. 

A chorus of ‘yes, we promise’ came from all the children. Still feeling bad for the tone she used, she bent down, putting one hand on the shoulders of Spider and Lo’ak, “I just want you guys to all be safe. Let’s go.”

“Um, actually, Nira, we kinda found tracks,” Spider said as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Tracks?” She responded, clearly annoyed at the cryptic words of the human teen. “Care to elaborate?”

Lo’ak responded for his friend, “they were the size of Na’vi feet, but boots. Like military boots.”

Jiniraa felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. This area of the forest already gave her the creeps and the thought that they weren’t alone made it worse ten-fold. Although she felt anxiety beginning to coarse through her veins, she needed to keep her wits about her, for the sake of the children. 

She wasn’t a warrior like their parents. Sure, she could hold her own thanks to Jake insisting she learn at least the basics, but if it was an opponent with any skill she was done for. Knowing she was at a disadvantage skill wise, Jiniraa would die for the children standing in front of her without a doubt. She would fight until her dying breath to make sure they were safe.

Taking a deep breath, Jiniraa clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to center herself. “All the more reason to get out of here.”

“But-”

“Lo’ak absolutely no buts. We are heading home. Tuk, come.” Jinirara took Tuk on her back, something she had done since Tuk was just old enough to walk. Although she was trying to keep calm for the children, especially Tuk, her anxiety wasn’t covered as well as she hoped. Once Tuk was on her back, she felt the child’s arms tighten around her neck.

Jiniraa was leading the group with Tuk on her back, keeping the pace as fast as she could. Kiri was slightly behind Jiniraa while the two boys begrudgingly followed behind. 

“You’re limping again.” Kiri stated plainly. It was the first thing she said since Jiniraa had jumped out of the trees. “You know you aren’t supposed to be jumping to the ground like that. You could hurt yourself even more.”

Jiniraa sighed, knowing Kiri was right. “I know, I know. I’ve had this pain since before you were born, sweet girl. I’ll be fine. I was out collecting leaves to make wrappings for my hip. The old stuff isn’t working anymore.” There was a pause. “Just don’t tell Norm. Or Mo’at. I don’t know which one will be scarier about this.”

“Grandmother will be. Without a doubt.” The three girls laughed to themselves. Jiniraa looked over her shoulder to make a joke to Kiri about how scary Mo’at can be at times when she only saw Kiri. No boys. No idiot, idiot boys.

“Kiri, where are Spider and Lo’ak?” Jiniraa asked in a nervous tone, not even trying to hide it anymore. Kiri glanced around as well to no avail. Jiniraa tightened her hold on Tuk, “fuck. Alright let’s retrace, they just veered off. They’re fine. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Kiri and Tuk shared a glance at each other, both recognizing the signs of Nira’s anxiety, something that wasn’t a secret in the village. 

The group only had to walk back about a hundred yards before they found signs of where the boys ventured off to. To Nira’s dismay, she caught sight of those tracks Lo’ak described earlier. 

She paused for a second, “alright, I need both of you to stay as quiet as possible. Tuk, I’m going to put you on the ground, I can’t sneak with you on my back.” Nira quickly and quietly lowered Tuk to the ground, pulling her knife off her thigh at the same time.

The girls followed the tracks, Tuk safely tucked in the middle, holding onto Jiniraa’s tail for childish security. Within minutes, she spotted Lo’ak and Spider crouching up against a fallen log. Coming up behind the two, she grabbed an ear from both, pulling them towards her.

“Now, what the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” She asked. There wasn’t aggression in her voice. No, it was a cold anger. Coming from her, it was much scarier than her loudest of yelling. 

“Mom is going to ground you,” Kiri stared at her brother, receiving an eye roll as a response, “for life,” She emphasized. 

Jiniraa couldn’t care less about the childish banter happening behind her as she looked forward. Eyes widened realizing exactly where they were. In the distance, she could see one of the old links and where the Na’vi-human war came to a bloody end all those years ago. Not only that, she saw at least half a dozen Na’vi-looking beings surveying the area. Armed with large guns, dressed in camouflage, and fully decked out with gear, Jiniraa’s heart sank to the pits of her stomach. 

“We’re going. Now. One of you make contact with your parents. Now.” She gathered Tuk back up on her back as Lo’ak raised a hand to his throat. 

Jiniraa’s ears were ringing, so she only caught parts of the conversation.

“-I got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they have full camo and gear. There’s six of them. Over.” A pause, waiting for his father’s response. Lo’ak hesitated with his response, knowing how much trouble he was in. “Uh, we’re at the old shack. Me, Spider, Kiri… and Tuk. Nira is with us too, she found us.”

Only the older two Sully children had earpieces in, but Jiniraa could imagine exactly what Jake was saying.

“See, I told you,” Kiri whispered to her brother, but her words barely registered in Jiniraa’s mind as she felt her protective side wash over her. She was going to make sure these kids stayed safe and got home. Bouncing Tuk higher on her back, they all started sneaking through the forest.

The kid’s were arguing amongst themselves, causing Jiniraa to turn around and snap at them her nerves at an all time high. In that exact moment, a body came out from the brush and ripped Tuk off her back. Tuk screamed as she reached out for Nira, who was already lunging at the enemy in response. 

Within a few seconds, about a dozen blue bodies emerged from their hiding places, all with guns raised at the children. Nira did her best to push everyone behind her. In accordance with Jake’s lessons, they all lowered their weapons, knowing resisting and showing aggression was a surefire way to get killed. 

Everyone was grabbed and forced into submission. The male who grabbed Jiniraa kicked out at her bad leg, forcing her to grit her teeth together. She wanted to scream out in pain as the fire spread within, but she wouldn’t give the aggressors that satisfaction. 

Tuk was screaming out for Kiri. The sound made Jiniraa’s heart rate pick up exponentially, both in fear and anger. The adrenaline began pumping through her veins. She did a once over of everyone, making eye contact to give some reassurance that everything would be okay. It partially was a lie, for she did not know if everything certainly was going to be okay. Lying was bad, but she saw how it momentarily calms everyone down. 

She wasn’t a warrior. Hell, she wasn’t even a fighter. She was easily the shortest fully-grown woman in the clan and she walked with a persistent limp. She had no chance against these people, muscles and hardware on display, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying her damndest.

“What have we here?” 

Next Part - Two: Eyes Cannot Lie

●●●

i hope you enjoyed :))) 

cross-posting on ao3 at beanswolo!

[prettywhenibleed]

@lovedtodeth:

Okay so, I got this idea from the song “Dont know what you got (till it’s gone)” by Cinderella when I was listening to it. What if in this scenario, (y/n) has always had feelings for Paul but never grows the confidence to tell him. And maybe there’s instances where Paul would just be too naive to even realize that reader has a massive crush on him.  Reader overhears a convo with Paul and marko, where marko asks if Paul would actually catch feelings for someone and he’s like “naahhh” so, that’s the readers last straw? Reader decides to go away for a while in hopes to just get over him bc how hurt they were and the entire time the reader is gone, Paul starts to realize everything the reader did for him and all the good times. Ofc he starts to miss them, and …realizes that he indeed also had feelings for them.

I hope you like it and it is what you wanted.

𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝕶𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕲𝖔𝖙 (Don't Know What You Got)

Fem!Reader x Paul

TW: Weed, nothing else except sad boy hours with Paul

This is a request from my old account that I did.

You and Paul sat together on one of the beaten up couches in the cave, his arm laying across the back of the couch behind you as he took a hit from the joint he was holding. Blowing out the smoke, he passed it to you, to which you accepted and took your own hit. You and Paul would often just hang out together, smoke and listen to music, whether that was in the cave, out on the beach or under the boardwalk. You loved hanging out with Paul, he was so much fun, so sweet, funny and kind to you. Over the year that you had known him and the others for, you had developed feelings for him. Your feelings for him grew from just friends, to wanting more pretty quickly after meeting him for the first time. Though, you never told Paul about your feelings for him. You never had the confidence to. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you ruined your friendship by telling him? You couldn’t do that and you couldn’t take the rejection, not from him. 

Even though Paul had never realized it, the others did. It was pretty obvious to everyone except Paul that you had a massive crush on him. You thought that maybe one day he might see how much you cared for him and take the initiative and ask you out, but that never happened. Paul was too naive to even notice it. You were brought out of your thoughts by Paul nudging you. “Hey. You gonna pass that, sugar?” He asked, a goofy grin on his face as he watched your zoned out expression and you holding the joint in your hand. He just thought that you were really high and spacing out. You recovered by sending a grin back at him. “Sorry.” You said, laughing a little and passing it back to him. Paul took the joint off of you and gave you a shrug. “It’s all good, babe. I know you’re a weakling when it comes to my weed.” He teased, which promptly earned him a playful jab in his side from you as you feigned hurt. “Rude! I’m not a weakling!” You defended. The rest of the night went on and eventually ended with Paul dropping you off at your place. 

A few more days passed and you met up with the boys at the boardwalk. As soon as Paul spotted you walking up to them, he ran up to you, picking you up and spinning you around before putting you back on the ground. “Finally! We’ve been waiting for ages!” Paul whined, causing you to laugh. “Dude, we’ve only been waiting for like, ten minutes.” Marko said, laughing at his brother. You and Paul made your way over to the others, Paul’s arm slung over your shoulders. “Yeah well, it was ten minutes too long.” He said, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout, trying to gain some kind of sympathy from you and his brothers, to no avail. You turned to Paul. “Come on you big baby. Let’s get something to eat cause I’m starving.” You told him and the others. While they didn’t necessarily need to eat human food, they still enjoyed it. The five of you made your way to one of the food stalls to get some food. Marko and Paul were messing around in the line, playfully shoving each other and laughing, which caused a few people in the line to give them annoyed looks. 

You, Dwayne and David just watched on in amusement and their antics. Eventually, you all got to the front of the line and ordered. After getting your food, you all started to head back to the bikes, Marko and Paul starting up the shoving again. It would have been fine, if Marko didn’t shove him a little too hard, causing Paul to drop his food. He just stood there for a few moments, staring at his now dirt and sand covered food on the ground. Feeling bad for him and not being able to stand the sad look on his face, you handed your food over to Paul. “Here, have mine. I’ll go get some more.” You told him, giving him your food and as soon as he took it, you left to go get some more food before he could even thank you. While you were in line again waiting to reorder, the boys were standing in the same spot, waiting for you to get back. Paul was apparently so touched by your gesture, that he proceeded to cry as he ate the food that you had given him. Admittedly, he was also kinda really high too. 

When you got back to them, you gave Paul a concerned look. “Hey, Paulie. You okay?” You gently asked him as you watched him cry and eat. “Mhm.” Paul said as he nodded. “You’re just so nice to me, sugar! You were so hungry but you still gave me your food.” He said as he continued to cry. You pulled Paul into a hug, being careful of the food, to comfort him but you couldn’t help the giggle that came from you. “You’re welcome Paul but you don’t need to cry. It’s just food.” You told him. After you had all finished eating and Paul had finished crying, you guys went on some rides. By that you meant that you, Marko and Paul went on the rides while Dwayne and David just stood back and watched the three of you. The night went on and you all had a great time, as you always did and just like every night, Paul dropped you off at your house. He didn’t really have to, since you only lived about a fifteen minute walk from the boardwalk, but Paul always insisted since when you went back home, it was very late. 

The next night, Paul picked you up from your place and drove you to the boardwalk. You all went about with what you normally did. At some point, you, Paul and Marko ventured under the boardwalk to smoke but after a while, you told them that you would be right back as you needed to go get a drink. They offered to go with you but you told them that you would be fine. When you were headed back to them, drink in hand, you stopped. You were close enough that they hadn’t noticed you yet and close enough that you could hear a conversation that they were having. “Hey Paul?” Marko said, gaining Paul’s attention. “Yeah bud?” Paul replied, looking over at Marko. “Do you think you would ever catch feelings for someone?” Marko asked. Paul didn’t take too long to think of his answer. “Nah, I don’t think I would. Why?” Paul answered with a shrug. Marko gave Paul a shrug back. “No reason. Just wondering.”

It felt like a knife had just been plunged into your heart and you felt your body go ice cold. Paul would never have feelings for anyone. He would never have feelings for you. Tears started to well up in your eyes as you quietly turned around and walked away. Before, you at least had a little hope that maybe he could feel the same way about you as you felt about him but after hearing that, your worst fears were confirmed. Paul would never love you. How could you be so stupid as to think that he would even like you like that, let alone love you? You walked back up onto the boardwalk and made your way towards the exit. You couldn’t face them now. You couldn’t face him. That night, you walked home for the first time since you had started hanging out with the boys, crying the whole way and eventually, crying yourself to sleep. 

You were woken up by the sound of tapping on your window. You laid still for a few moments, listening and waiting, knowing it must be one of the boys. The voice that you heard only confirmed your suspicions. “Sugar? I know you’re in there. Why did you leave? Did something happen?” Paul asked through the window. You were glad that the curtains were drawn and the window was locked. You didn’t want to see or talk to him right now. Honestly, in all of your hurt that you were feeling right now, you didn’t know if you ever wanted to talk to him again. Paul continued to try and get you to talk to him and open up for a few hours before finally giving up and leaving you alone. 

The next couple days were a blur. You hadn’t been showing up to the boardwalk and had been ignoring the taps and calls from your window. You had had time to think and, as much as it pained you, you had decided that you needed to get away from Santa Carla. More specifically, away from a certain vampire. You had some family about five hours from here that had said that you could stay with them. After packing your things, you took one last look at your room before leaving and heading to the bus stop. You had decided it would be best if you left during the day, that way, you wouldn’t run into anyone that you were trying to avoid. You also decided to leave a note. In it, you explained your reason for leaving and told them that you loved them all and you would cherish their friendship forever. You also told Paul that, while you knew that he would never love you, you would always love him. 

That night, Paul woke up and headed straight to your house, intent on getting you to let him in or at the very least, talk to him through the window. Arriving at your house and finding your window cracked open, Paul was filled with relief. Finally, you were willing to let him in. Though, what he would find when he got into your bedroom, would leave him feeling something that he wouldn’t fully understand yet. After reading your letter, Paul didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t even know that you liked him in that way and if he was being honest, he never really thought about if he felt that way towards you. Paul left your house and headed back to the cave, suddenly not feeling like going to the boardwalk tonight. He now understood why you had suddenly left the other night and why you had locked yourself in your room, refusing to talk to him. You had overheard his conversation with Marko. To say the least, he felt horrible. He never wanted to hurt you, you were one of his best friends. He loved spending time with you. He loved making you laugh. He loved getting high with you, listening to music and talking about random things that, to others, may have seemed dumb. He loved that, even though he knew it to be kind of true, you never made him feel stupid. It was then that Paul realized what that feeling was. It was heartbreak.

The next few weeks were pure torture. Constantly reminiscing on all the good times he and you shared and there were many. All the little gestures, touches and compliments that you gave him, all the laughs you had together. Paul missed them all and it was over these few weeks that he realized something that he wished he had realized long ago. He was in love with you too and it killed him that it took losing you to realize it. The worst part was, he couldn’t even tell you any of this. He had no idea where you had gone and he had no way of getting into contact with you. As a way of torturing himself, Paul played Don’t know what you got (til it’s gone) by Cinderella on repeat, wallowing in his own self pity and thinking of you and all the things that he wished he could have said to you and would hopefully get to say to you one day if you ever came back. Luckily for him, and for the others who have had to deal with Paul sulking around, you did come back about a month later. 

Arriving back in Santa Carla was weird but it also filled you with butterflies. All the memories you had here with the boys still never failed to make you smile. Well, that is until you start to think about the reason you left in the first place. But you were back. It wasn’t long after you left that you started to regret your decision to leave. It felt like you had left a part of yourself here, though you tried to push those feelings away and focus on moving on. It didn’t work though. The longer you were away from here, away from your friends and away from Paul, your heart broke more and more. Finally, after almost two months, you admitted defeat and decided to come back. You would be lying if your first thought after getting back, wasn’t to go straight to the cave and see the boys. You missed them all so much but there was one particular boy you missed the most. Never being able to rid your mind of his goofy smile and contagious laugh. Or the way he made you feel. 

As you made your way onto the boardwalk, you rubbed your hands together out of nervousness. You were nervous to see them again and nervous to have to explain yourself and your letter. Walking through the crowd, you made your way over to where you knew their bikes would be and just like always, there they sat. Your heart fluttered at the sight but felt it sink a little when you saw a very miserable looking Paul. He wasn’t at all his usual, goofy, loud and wild self. Speeding up, you made a b-line for them and as you grew closer, you saw Paul’s head shoot up. He stared at you, his eyes wide and looking like he was in shock, though it didn’t last long as he quickly rushed to you and hauled you up into his arms. “Y/n! I can’t believe it’s you! You’re back!” He exclaimed, hugging you to him in a tight grip before pulling back slightly to look at you. “It really is you, right? I’m not hallucinating?” He didn’t give you time to answer before he pulled you back in. “Of course it’s you. God I’m so sorry, sugar. Please, please forgive me. I was so stupid. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’ve done a lot of soul searching while you were gone and I realized that I love you too. I was just too stupid to realize it sooner.” Paul basically blurted all of this out in one go, you never getting a chance to respond, but you didn’t mind too much, as what he said last made your heart pound. He loved you too. 

Finally putting you down and pulling away slightly, you were able to speak. “Paul.” You said, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, to which he leaned into. “You’re not stupid. I should have said something about how I felt. I should have talked to you instead of running off like that.” You told him. “I don’t care about any of that now. You're back and I’m not letting you go ever again.” He cooed at you as he brought you into a kiss. You were surprised at first, but quickly melted into the kiss. It was like a dream and if that was true, you never wanted to wake up from it. You wrapped your arms around Paul’s shoulders as his came down to wrap themselves around your waist. Lost in the kiss, you were both brought back to reality by obnoxious coughing from the boys. “Get a room you two.” 

Taglist: @6lostgirl6 @lovedtodeth @britany1997 @checkitoutmikey @bitchyexpertprincess @ghoulgeousimmaculate

Spam liking without reblogging = blocked

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

@demonzriti this song

I'm an engineer for a hundred rubles And I won't get any more. I'm twenty-five years old, and I still don't know I don't know what I want And I don't think there's any reason To be proud of my destiny. !!!But if I could choose myself I'd be me again.!!! I'm twenty-five, and ten of them I sing without knowing what I'm singing about And it's so hard for me to be afraid of the one Who's standing over my left shoulder* (*death) And even if my words aren't clear It's not my fault But as for the one behind my shoulder We're all equal before her (*her - death) It may be that tomorrow the hands of the clock Will begin to turn back And he who was taken down from the cross with weeping, Will be crucified again And tender lips will again Look for their Christ But I sang what I sang, and at least in this My conscience is clear I'm happy with the way things turned out Even if it wasn't Even with the wind in my head And my temple's a mess !!!I was just trying to grow my garden And not spoil the beautiful view!!! And the stationmaster will understand me And the careless fisherman will forgive me

y know this song always made me sad bc "I'm an engineer for a hundred rubles; And I won't get any more". makes me think bout desperation that is everywhere here in this country, it's so impossibly hard (genuinely!) to get a bright future, makes u think about this "my parents, grandparents, grand-grand etc never got a good life, how am i any better?". sense of inferiority and shit. but the thing is, there's no right or wrong way to live this life. i don't believe in the afterlife or reincarnation or smth other, i believe there's only one chance. i was a careerist for a very long time and since i was 19 my mindset has become absolutely wildly capitalistic (before that it was depressingly humble). work, money, success was the main thing. basically this is the reason why i ended up my 1st & 2nd relationships, this careerist mindset fucked up my life in many ways. but at some point you choke on this endless race and burn out. and all this year i was deeply burn out and in the last few months, i've been looking more at the people around me and life in general. I let go of a lot of things. i looked at my parents just drinking in the country and looking at the stars: they were just in the moment. they find these simple joys in life. when my art teacher died i had a little conversation with my mom and the gist of it was “it's too late, so all of your mistakes is the lesson for the future”. I never understood how they were so calm about death: then I realized what horrors they had to go through in life, much earlier than i did. they cried their tears and I have to cry mine. it's just life! loss is what unites us as human beings, I think. anyway, It all makes me think even more that there are no bad and good people, no good and bad life. it's all very complicated. very heterogeneous. in some years I thought I understood this life as a structure. but now I realize that I'm only 22 and I don't understand anything. because I can't understand it yet. life is a beautiful thing just by itself. I can't contradict myself and say that “this is the right way to live”. because there is no such thing! It is my personal understanding that the most important thing is to remain human and sincere. we inevitably make mistakes, we inevitably get hurt. “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is a choice" Now, in these last months, I have come to the point that I just want to live. accept everything that life brings. I have abandoned my ambitions. and sometimes it makes me incredibly sad and hurt, but I don't know. we discussed this with a friend, I was doing a test assignment for one gamedev studio and I was saying how happy I was to draw something to order again and I don't care that this order is absolutely tasteless. She didn't understand me at the time, and recently she had a similar thing with work. she says to me, "God, I'm writing about such an uninteresting thing for me, but I'm writing! it makes me happy." And that's exactly what I was telling her. I will probably live a completely ordinary, unremarkable life, maybe I will never leave this country, maybe I will never succeed (what is success? it's different for everyone), but I'm learning to appreciate what I have: my work, which I incredibly love, the people around me (I'm trying to learn not to run away from them), life in its small manifestations. I can only live in extremes and I'm learning to live smoother and more flexible. Life is very flexible itself. "I was just trying to grow my garden; And not spoil the beautiful view" I'm sorry, I can talk for a very long time. in short: a) get the fuck away from yourself!! b) accepting life as it is (ugly, tragic, unfair, hard, funny, kind, beautiful etc) c) remain human (One artist told me that he believes that you need to respect yourself and respect others. without respect for yourself, you will not respect others and vice versa) d) success is a very illusory thing. where is the imposed, and where is the real? e) be honest

i dont know fr. my mind is blurry and i'm afraid that i didn't find the right words. It all sounds like "put up with all the shit and eat it with spoons," but that's not what I mean. you don't have to give up and hang your head if you have goals. and you shouldn't go into indifference to the world around you and the events taking place in it. but at the same time, accept any losses and difficult events. It's just life. I don't know. It's so easy to say, "this is life in its diversity," and it's so hard to express what it means

"But if I could choose myself; I'd be me again"

"I sang what I sang, and at least in this; My conscience is clear" <- this is it. this is life

[adamruz]

Do You Love Him?

Summary: Torres helps Kim realize her feelings for Adam.

[This was inspired by the behind the scenes photo of Marina and Benjamin partnering up last fall and I just now finished that draft.]

Words: 759

AO3 link

The unit had been taking turns partnering up with Torres in his first official week as a member of Intelligence and today was Kim’s turn. She didn’t know too much about him yet, but she figured it would be a quiet uneventful day in the car with him. She usually has to deal with Adam singing along to every song on the radio or Kevin rambling on about all of his tenants’ issues, so she was perfectly okay with quiet today. Especially after the morning she had when her and Adam got into a minor argument that escalated after a disagreement about what new refrigerator they wanted to buy.

"Hey, I know it's none of my business, but is that your daughter in the picture on your desk?" Dante asked shyly.

"Yeah, her name's Makayla. She's eight."

“She looks well loved and happy in that picture.”

“She is, thanks.” Kim loved talking about her daughter, but didn’t envision where this conversation would go next.

"You and Ruzek…right?" Dante asked, unaware of their entire situation and backstory.

Kim paused a little before answering, wondering how he placed her and Adam together. He probably noticed them arriving and leaving work with each other or maybe Kevin filled him in or so she thought. "Yeah, we both found her wandering on the street and then Intelligence investigated the murders of her mother, grandmother, and uncle. I fostered her for a bit and then earlier this year, I fully adopted her. But Adam's been there every step of the way and we moved into his dad's old house together a few weeks ago."

"How long have you two been together?"

This really was turning into a not so quiet car ride as Kim expected. "We actually aren’t anything right now, but it's complicated…off and on for almost ten years."

"Do you love him?"

Kim was completely caught off guard and yet didn’t hesitate with her answer, "Yeah, but we..."

"Then it's not complicated at all,” he responded point-blank after cutting her off.

Kim couldn’t muster a response as she was wondering how this guy, practically a kid, that she just met pretty much solved her relationship with Adam in five minutes.

He followed up with another hard hitting question. “Does Ruzek know that you love him?”

Kim drove in silence pondering everything Dante had said to her until a call came over their radios.

“5021 Ida, suspect fleeing down the fire escape.”

“That's Adam!” Kim sped up a bit and drove to where Adam and Kevin were on surveillance. As they pull up, she sees Adam walking with blood seeping through his jeans on his left leg. She barely puts the car in park before she jumps out and runs over to him. “Adam oh my gosh, are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

He puts up his hand to attempt to calm her down. “Kim, I'm fine. I just scraped up my knee chasing this son of a bitch because my damn shoe came untied.” Kevin was chuckling over under the tree where he had the man in handcuffs.

“Oh thank goodness, I was so worried when I saw the blood.”

“I’m okay, I'm perfectly fine.” Adam was still not understanding the sudden freak out as there was very minimal blood. “What's going on with you? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me today after the ride into work this morning.”

“I’m sorry about that. I just…I love you.” She didn’t envision telling him that today when she woke up and after their argument, but Torres gave her some clarity in the car.

Adam smiled, still confused and reached for her hand, not wanting to cause a scene since they were still on duty. "I love you too, but where's this coming from?"

“I was talking to Torres earlier and he said something that really struck me and I had to not put it off anymore and just say it.” Adam and Kim both flashed a smile in Dante’s direction.

"Well he's a very smart guy if I do say so myself," Adam answered.

Torres and Atwater were standing off to the side by their cars, watching this exchange. "Man, what did you say to Burgess? I've been trying to get those two crazy kids back together for years and you’re here for what? A week?"

Dante laughed, "I just told her if she really loved him, there was nothing complicated about it."

Kevin held out his hand for a fist bump, “you did good, Rookie."

[zannolin]

🛒🎶 for the fic ask game :)

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

so i literally made a bingo sheet for my fics because i am truly writing the same fic over and over again. stand-outs include: talking about ribs and skinned knees, astronomical metaphors, compass references, oranges, the inherent tragedy of growing up, friendship or familial estrangement, rooftop bonding scenes, how fucking miserably angry being fifteen makes you, giving characters highly specific music or reading tastes (you can pry abba fan jason walker, owl city girlie billy batson, and annie dillard reader mike wheeler from my cold dead hands btw), jigsaw puzzles, grief, and the mug of stars.

thematically yeah i'm a bit hurt/comfort and grief girlie. i love to write about finding love and the desire to live in unexpected places. major character undeath and reunions are favs. found family, best friends, the works. basically i feel like you can look at any of the themes i consistently write about and realize i was someone who was fundamentally changed at ten years old when i went to see the muppets (2011).

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

yes but also no. usually i listen to instrumental music but lately it's become like, too much? bad stim. so either i'm listening to "good luck, babe!" by chappell roan or "don't come around here no more" by tom petty & the heartbreakers or "santa monica dream" by angus & julia stone on loop, because those are songs i can apparently write to without losing it, or i have nothing on. the only exception is my brain has been letting me play the stranger things ost sometimes, depending on what i'm working on, but i'm using my vinyl to do that because i love the sound quality, but that means i then have to get up and flip the record every 20 min so. that's a bit disruptive.

separate from whilst writing, i am of course always looping glb + the cxloe cover of it. i'm also on an "i love you, i'm sorry" by gracie abrams kick and "waiting room" by phoebe bridgers, as well as "brother" by the aubreys, "cleopatra" by the lumineers, the acoustic vers of "pink pony club", "every breath you take" by the police and i'm back on my john denver's greatest hits bullshit. begging someone to take these songs away from me (but also don't i NEED them).

fanfic writer emoji asks!

[kazhan-draws]

Harringrove, 7, 20 and 26?

Thanks for the ask Ihni 💙 This was really fun to think about and I think I went slightly overboard lmao

Feel free to send me more with those two or another ST pairing, I clearly have a lot to say 🤣

the meme

7. Who is more sentimental?

That one goes to Billy. 

He’s the one who gets stuck in the past: the life he had in California, his life before his mom left, that’s something he probably doesn’t allow himself to think about much—at least not until El reminds him of how happy he was then—because it hurts too much, but once he opens that window, it’s hard to get him to stop. 

Billy collects pictures, concert tickets, small trinkets that remind him of a moment when he was happy, of people he loves. He’s the one who listens to a song and feels all kinds of emotions about it, either because he remembers the first time he listened to it and who he was/how he felt back then, or because the song reminds him of someone. 

He’s the one who gets emotional or refuses to watch a specific movie because it reminds him of his mom.

He’s the one who wears Steve’s clothes when he isn’t around, because he needs the comfort and the reminder that he is loved.

He’s an emotional guy, so he’s definitely the one who feels the most sentimental.

Steve on the other hand is very much the kind of guy who lives in the present. He doesn’t care much about pictures, doesn’t really collect items, I mean just take a look at the guy’s bedroom, he clearly isn’t someone who needs to surround himself with pictures and items and thinks a lot about the past. It happened, it made him sad or happy, moving on.

A song is just a song, I’m not saying he’s never going to associate it with someone or a memory, but it’ll probably be a quick thing, he won’t linger. 

He lives in the moment, clinging to the past or old emotions isn’t something he does much, what’s happening right now is more important to him than how he felt ten years ago. 

(That doesn’t stop him from wearing Billy’s clothes too, but that’s something he does when Billy is around because it gets him all hot and bothered.) Next questions under the cut because it got long lmfao

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

Okay, this is a tough one, because I think it’s really, really hard to get Steve to the point where he’s going to be so mad at someone he’s going to actually hold a grudge. I mean, Nancy basically broke his heart calling him and their relationship bullshit, and he still tried to show up the next day with flowers to apologize. But that’s because even when he’s hurt, Steve probably always feels like he’s at least partly responsible, and he’s clearly ready to put his pride and feelings aside when he really loves someone and wants things to work out.

So you’d have to really, really fuck up for him to be mad forever. 

On the other hand, I think he absolutely is one to be awfully bitchy and petty over small things. 

Let’s say Billy makes the mistake of finishing the tub of Steve’s favorite ice cream once, a treat Steve was really looking forward to after an awful day at work. Billy better be ready to jump in the car and go buy a whole new tub the moment he realizes his mistake, and that’s not saving him from Steve bitching about it all night, and he’s never forgetting about it.

“Oh, you’re mad I finished the Chinese leftovers you were saving for lunch? Remember the Ice Cream Incident of ‘87?” “Steve, that was thirty years ago.”

Everyone knows about the Ice Cream Incident. 

On a more serious note, I also think Steve would definitely hold a grudge against someone who hurt the people he loves, which means it’s probably a good thing Billy started shit with the kids back when Steve didn’t care too much about them, or they might never have moved past it. 

Now, Billy… The easy answer is “yeah, he definitely is the kind of guy who holds a grudge forever and over the tiniest things” but I think it’s a bit more complicated than that. 

Someone he doesn’t really know and cares about pisses him off/annoys him/says or does something hurtful, he’s going to forever put them on his shit list and it’s going to be really, really hard to make him change his mind. 

It’s not so much holding a grudge, it’s more protecting himself. If someone he’s starting to get close to—which, you know, is already a pretty huge thing in itself because he’s really bad at letting people close—fucks up once, he’ll probably put an end to that relationship immediately, he’s never going to be the one to take the first step to fix it, and it’s going to take A Lot to get him to forgive.

Now, if it comes from someone he loves deeply…

Well, pain and betrayal coming from the people he loves and who are supposed to love him? What a surprise, it’s not like that’s literally one of the very first things he was taught in life. 

A part of Billy just expects it, so if—when it happens, Billy just takes it. Doesn’t say anything, goes numb, and would probably accept any apology as long as it means the person—Steve isn’t leaving. He won’t hold a grudge, but he won’t talk about it, and he’s definitely never forgetting it happened, so in a way it’s a thousand times worse than if he actually held a grudge and got mad about it, because it’s impossible to fix something if you can’t see it’s broken. 

I feel like this one got away from me and I don’t have a definite answer, I guess they can both hold grudges for a long time, but it depends on who, what, how, etc… 

26. How do they comfort each other?

The first and most obvious answer is touch. They’re both bad with words, don’t really like talking, most of the time they don’t even know what the fuck to say when the other is feeling under the weather, so kissing, hugging, small gentle touches.

Steve is pretty good at noticing when Billy isn’t feeling well, what he struggles with the most is figuring out when Billy needs to be left alone to deal with things or process shit on his own, and when he actually needs Steve to be there for him. It’s a hard thing to balance, because Billy doesn’t even know himself sometimes so that’s probably something they struggle with at first. Steve tries to fix things because that’s what he does and he isn’t always patient enough, or has a hard time accepting that some things simply can’t be fixed, and he gets hurt when Billy lashes out because he just wants to be left alone.

But once they figure it out, Steve learns to notice the small differences, he learns to give Billy some space, and to wait for him to be ready for some comfort, and that’s when Steve can shine. Wrapping Billy in a warm and soft blanket and getting him to lie down on the couch with his head pillowed on Steve’s thigh so he can card his fingers through his hair until he feels better; simply holding him quietly until Billy stops feeling like shit, etc… 

Billy hasn’t known comfort since his mom left, he has no idea how the fuck he’s supposed to comfort someone, it’s not something that comes naturally to him. You feel sad? Yeah, everyone does, you aren’t special, jeez. His first instinct is definitely to ignore it because he doesn’t know how to deal with it, and because that’s how he was taught to act. 

Steve showing vulnerability would probably make Billy feel awful at first, because you aren’t supposed to do that, and what the fuck does he expect Billy to do? He might even say hurtful things at first, because that’s all he knows. 

So I think he’d just mimic Steve at first. Steve hugs me when I feel like shit, I guess I’ll hug him when he feels like shit. And it slowly reminds him of what his mom would do, and it hurts to think about but he also remembers how good he felt when she’d hug or kiss him, so that’s what he does.

And then he remembers when she’d cook his favorite meal, or take him to the beach, out of the house and away from Neil, so he starts applying that too. He gets Steve his favorite food, does small things for him, gets him in the car and drives without purpose, just to get them far away from everything where Steve can breathe a little bit. Well, shit, this really got long, anyway, thanks again, I hope this was as satisfying to read as it was to write 🤣  

[cryptidsurveys]

Saturday, August 3rd, 2024.

(From Thursday's trip to the Mountain Park.) Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? Omg, yes. Summer is a miserable time for me. I'm an (extremely) "early to bed/early to rise" type of person, so the heat and the light really fvck with my sleep schedule. I sleep the best during the depths of winter when it's dark and freezing cold.

What is your favorite thing to do with your best friend? My best friend lives in California, so we don't interact in person. We mostly exchange memes and videos, and have random chats about whatever.

Are you easily offended? I can be easily hurt when it comes to personal matters and social interactions (although I've become much better at hiding/dealing with it), but when it comes to politics and things of that nature, I really could not give a hoot.

Have you ever acted as tour guide for friends/relatives from out of town? I haven't. I'm not even sure what I would show people.

Do you feel bored with your life? Not at the moment. If anything, it feels like it's become a bit too busy now that I'm at the animal shelter 40-ish hours a week. I'm realizing I need to restructure my home routines in order to get everything accomplished.

What's the most weight you've ever gained from a medication? I've never gained a significant amount of weight from any medication.

How old were you the first time you encountered God? Like, the concept of God? I was so young that I don't even recall it. But if we're talking about a profound spiritual experience, then...I'm also not sure. I do believe in God now, but I can't pinpoint a singular moment that did it for me.

Are you married? I'm not.

What was the best date you've ever been on? Idk.

Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? I don't use Facebook, but I feel relatively free to post whatever I want on Tumblr and Instagram.

Which stereotype do you fit the most? I have no idea. I'm so bland these days.

Who were your favorite celebrities as a child? I've never been into celebrities.

Did you go to prom? No.

If you could rewind time ten years, would you? No way. I do not want to go through all of that all over again.

What is the last song you played on repeat? Idk about a song, but the last album I had on repeat was Precession by Fifty Dollar Dynasty.

Do you own a CD player? I don't.

Do you think you could handle a job in the medical field? Why or why not? I'm assuming a job as a vet tech would count as the medical field. It's nothing I'm planning on doing any time soon, but I might go back to school for that in the future. It would allow me to continue working at the animal shelter, just in a different capacity.

Would you rather edit photos on your phone or computer? Phone.

What is one electronic device you own that you have not used in a long time? There's an old Xbox 360 in the basement that I haven't used for years.

When was the last time you wore a dress or a skirt? I have no idea.

What is your favorite thing about Instagram? I really like the concept of photo-blogging. Along with surveys, it's one of my favorite ways to document my life.

What is the first thing you think of when you see the rainbow emoji? 🌈? At this time, it would be a rainbow cat hide-away that someone recently donated to the animal shelter. It's so cute!

Do you prefer to play chess or checkers? Neither. I don't even really know how to play chess anymore. I used to know, but it's been so long since I last played.

If you had to go an entire week without using any technology, what do you think you would spend most of your time doing instead? I'd probably spend a lot more time at the animal shelter. I'm pathetically lost without technology (especially my phone for YT videos), but full days at the shelter consume basically all of my time from waking until sleeping. I just get up, shower, eat breakfast, chat with my dad for a bit, then head out. And when I come home, I shower, eat, chat with my dad again, and go to bed.

Would you rather travel to Asia or France? Asia (particularly Japan).

Did you have a New Year’s kiss? No.

Are there any words that you cannot pronounce or that you pronounce incorrectly? No.

How much older than you was the oldest person you have dated/had a relationship with? A couple of years.

Have you recently accomplished anything that you are proud of yourself for? Going full time at the shelter.

Are you still friends with any of your exes? Do you still communicate with any of them at all? No.

What is your opinion on people who shop at Sephora for makeup as opposed to buying makeup from the drugstore? It's not something I even think about.

Is marijuana legal for “recreational use” where you live? Also what is your opinion on the recent legalization of marijuana in certain states? It is legal here. Again, I don't really have an opinion. I don't smoke it anymore and probably never will again.

Do you live on your own or with your parents/a roommate? Do you think you’d like to live alone? I live with my dad. I am on a voucher waiting list to get my own apartment, but I have no idea when that will come through. I'm actually pretty excited about it. It's fun to daydream about creating my own little life.

How often would you say you use Microsoft Word? Never. If I need a quick word document type of thing, then I just use Rapid Tables (it's what I'm taking this survey with right now).

After doing your laundry do you leave it in your basket for a couple days, then put it away? Lmao, I never put it away.

When you do a puzzle do you find all the edges first? Usually.

When you’re in the car and you eat something with a wrapper, do you throw the wrapper out of the window? No.

List 5 things that have happened in the last 7 days. (They can be anything at all, anything that’s happened involving you, or your family, friends, partner.)

Volunteered. Alex and Cassie are leaving cattery. Libby and Lara are leaving the dog side. And Darrel is allegedly retiring in February, but he said that last February, so we'll see. Aside from Diane and the new hire Kristen, come September, there's basically going to be a whole new vibe in cattery. I'm kind of excited and kind of nervous.

Went to the Mountain Park on Thursday, then spent the rest of the day with a horrible migraine.

Went grocery shopping on Wednesday morning.

Touched the tip of the iceberg regarding all the current Amberlynn Reid drama (reaction channels + their comment sections are my guilty pleasure trash YouTube).

Made art.

If you found out your ex had a new partner, would you be upset? No.

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? Yeah.

Have you ever had sex on your bedroom floor? How about your living room floor? Possibly on my bedroom floor. Never on the living room floor.

When you kiss someone, do you like to play with their hair? Yeah.

Why did you hug the last person you hugged? I forget exactly who that would have been. I hugged a few people at that recent fundraising event for the shelter.

Do you regret sleeping with anyone? No.

Did anyone comfort you the last time you cried? What was your reason for crying? Yeah.

What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? What if I didn't.

Is there anyone that likes you, other than the person you love/like/are with? No.

Who is the 9th contact in your phone? Have you ever hugged/kissed that person? N/a.

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? Tired. Slight headache. Stiff neck. But that's about average for me, so I guess I was feeling okay. I felt even better after I showered and ate. I don't recall the first thing I thought about. Possibly the remnants of a fading dream.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? I sure do.

Random fact about the person you love/like? There is no such person.